In his second novel, Love Story, with Murders, Harry Bingham brings back the quirky but endearing D.C. Fiona Griffiths. Fiona has never been your standard British police officer—or your typical person, for that matter. Subject to Cotard’s syndrome, or "walking corpse syndrome," she admittedly associates more closely with the dead than the living. Fiona’s odd disorder and unorthodox investigation methods make her a standout character among police procedurals.

Fiona’s day goes from simple to complicated when an illegal dumping turns up a severed leg at the bottom of a freezer. The foot’s pink suede pump identifies the victim as Mary Langton, subsequently opening up a 10-year-old missing persons case that could possibly involve Fiona’s father, strip club owner and ex-criminal extraordinaire. As the police search the quiet Cardiff neighborhood for more of Mary, they come across more body parts belonging to another person, turning their macabre murder investigation into two.

Despite starting off slow, the story’s second half is fast-paced and gripping. Bingham does an excellent job of balancing several plotlines and developing Fiona’s character. Due to her disorder, which makes her more curious about than sympathetic to the dead, she has an unpredictable nature and uncanny humor, which entertain and baffle at times. Only when she experiences her own brush with death does she admit, “Fear has a color. A taste and a feel.” Her character blooms and becomes easier to understand, especially as she confronts other intense emotions, such as love.

Throughout the novel Bingham teases the reader as Fiona seeks to solve her own mysterious past, but unfortunately, nothing is developed or executed on this front. Perhaps readers will have to wait until the third installment in this series to see what makes Fiona Griffiths tick.

Readers who haven’t yet discovered Elly Griffiths’ wonderful mystery series set on the remote and scenic ocean sands of Norwich, England, have a delayed treat in store. Griffiths’ newest, The Outcast Dead, continues to pique our interest in her continuing characters: forensic archaeologist Ruth Galloway and the stable of marvelous, scruffy characters that inhabit her life, including DCI Harry Nelson, the father of Ruth’s 3-year-old daughter. (This is mostly a secret, though not to Nelson’s wife, Michelle.)

Not the least of the major characters in these novels is the picturesque though vaguely scary setting. Ruth chooses to live in relative isolation near the edge of a salt marsh, amid sand dunes, sea grass and ocean light. Notably, in the series debut, The Crossing Places, the remains of an ancient henge are discovered amid the sands, setting the tone for the entire series.

In The Outcast Dead, while on a dig near Norwich Castle, Ruth uncovers what appear to be the remains of a Victorian child murderer known as Mother Hook, infamous in Norfolk history, nursery rhymes and horror tales for the iron hook she wore in place of a missing hand. Though she was executed for the crimes, there’s some historical evidence that suggests she may have been innocent, and Ruth is asked to participate in a popular British TV series exploring the notorious events.

Eerily and coincidentally, Nelson and his police force have arrested a local woman suspected of killing her own child, and there are limited but striking connections to an old child murder case in which both Nelson and Ruth were involved. Tensions mount when two local children go missing, and one is the son of a member of Nelson’s police team.

Among this series’ best features are its many moments of wry humor, as we’re witness to characters’ inmost thoughts and sometimes-outward rants. Storylines wander and then converge, as we’re drawn into the lives of the colorful individuals that Griffiths paints so well. There are just a few too many characters floating around—most notably, children—and it’s sometimes a challenge to keep them straight and to remember whom they belong to and who has begotten whom. But we never lose sight of the action, which is purposefully written and always enhanced by a setting that manages to be both enticing and dangerous.

Who knew that in 2014, with the book world awash in knit-and-craft cozies, Scandinavian noir and genre detectives competing with hot new sleuths of every description, there’d be room for a couple of fresh, intriguing characters, or a series with both dark local realism and laugh-out-loud moments? It’s all here, in M.R.C. Kasasian’s immensely pleasurable debut mystery, The Mangle Street Murders. Set in London of 1882, the first in a new series introduces 21-year-old March Middleton and her guardian, the celebrated private detective Sidney Grice. They find themselves sharing Grice’s London townhouse after March’s father dies and she has need of a new home.

Move over, Holmes and Watson. Kasasian's debut mystery introduces our favorite new detective duo.

They seem ready to turn the science of detecting on its ear. March is outspoken and smart, and in a brief introduction she writes for the book, she appears to be a kind of chronicler of Grice’s life and escapades. But when we meet her in chapter one, we sense that she’ll be much more than that, as she takes an active role in her new life from the get-go, listening in on cases, accompanying Grice and making her opinions known—at a time when women were properly seen but not heard. There’s a mysterious past love that haunts her days and provides a hint for future intrigues.

As for Grice, he’s one for the ages, with his short stature and unpredictable glass eye. Irascible, vain to a fault, lacking social skills to the nth degree (and terrified of umbrellas to boot), he’s made a name for himself in the great city and is called upon to solve some of the day’s knottiest crimes. After March arrives on the scene, they are soon investigating the brutal murder of a young woman whose husband is the major suspect. Grice thinks he’s guilty, while March wants to prove his innocence. Guardian and ward set out to seek a killer on London’s streets and in its murky canals, visiting places where ladies never travel, in back alleys, mortuaries and the unsavory East End, all the while tossing back banter and clues in this marvelous get-under-your-skin story.  

Kasasian describes Victorian London in all its vibrancy—never sparing us the dirt and details of its dingy, teeming streets—but couples this grit with an underlying sense of fun and outlandish humor. This book should hit the “favorites” list of readers who seek new criminal ground and tantalizing characters to savor.