Swedish-born DI Inga Larsson stood in the barn that chilly morning looking down at the body of the poor young wretch. It may now be a world of phones that are too smart and Beats headphones, of kissy-kissy greetings and social media the British public get fussed about. But in some aspects, life has not changed one iota. Being dead is still as dead as it has always been.
Two squabbling factions come to the attention of Larsson and her team - not the usual hoodlums or drug gangs. These two outfits are Lincoln's amateur dramatic groups, both overflowing with odd balls, antagonistic miscreants, and eccentrics who refuse to see eye-to-eye.
As Larsson digs deeper, she comes face-to-face with homophobic and racist attitudes, with unadulterated snootiness served as a side dish.
Has an innocent young woman become embroiled in their dispute in the name of art and paid the price with her life?
As Shakespeare put it: Murder most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
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