Hard one to sum up. Probably my least favourite Reginald Hill book. It’s a reissue of a twenty year old not-exactly-a-mystery, set in occupied Paris during 1940-1945. Quite different from his usual stuff.

It wasn’t the different-from-usual that put me off - the story just got off to a really slow start, seemed to be populated with indistinct characters and din’t engage me at all. I kept going hoping it would get better, and it did. Occassionally it felt like a really good book, but mostly I found it mediocre.