A Small Death in the Great Glen

A. D. Scott is a new author to me but she has written six or seven books in the "Highland Gazette" series which features Joanne Ross as the protagonist. This is the first book in the series. Scott was born and raised in the Highlands of Scotland so her descriptions of towns, geography, weather, and the people are rich and evocative. The setting is a smallish town in 1956 which is still overshadowed, to an extent, by the losses of WWII. This means that outsiders, whether they are the Italian family that now runs the chip shop or refugees fleeing the strictures of Communism in Poland, are "outsiders." So when a young boy is found in the canal, and it is determined that he was dead before being found in the water, suspicion is easily directed towards those outsiders by a bigoted DI Tompson. Joanne's two daughters were the last to see the boy alive but they are reluctant to talk given that the older daughter had coerced the boy into a forbidden prank of ringing doorbells and running away. All they will say is that he was taken away by a "hoodie crow"-- large black birds signifying evil in children's tales--and their story gains no traction. But when the youngest sees the local Catholic priest, Father Morrison-Bain, at a town festival and shrieks in terror "hoodie crow," at least some people being to suspect his involvement. Joanne is "just a typist" at the Highland Gazette, the local paper, and it is against the express wishes of her verbally and physically abusive husband.  She would like to be a real reporter, though, and have a life of her own, so she is constantly trying to keep her husband (and his parents) appeased by playing the good wife and mother while still doing a little investigating on her own. She enlists the help of other newspaper staff and her friends in town and, collectively, they begin to accumulate a less than savory history on the good priest, even though the thought of his involvement is anathema to the townspeople, especially once it's revealed that the child was "interfered with." Still it isn't as straightforward as it would be in today's environment of huge scandals around sex abuse in the Church.

In spite of the dark subject matter, Kirkus concludes by saying  the book is "A rollicking, cozy escapade, too lighthearted to call Tartan noir." The Historical Novel Society lauds her character development, authentic voice and her ability to "tie up the many ends of her introductory tale with aplomb." Booklist calls it "captivating on every level." I'm looking forward to reading more.