Having finished Helen Fitzgerald’s magnificent The Cry yesterday, I dove straight into James Oswald’s Natural Causes. Only 70-odd pages in and I’m loving the dynamics between the police characters, and the subject matter is suitably unsettling. There’s something about old mysteries resurfacing that really holds my interest, so I’ll be ploughing through this one apace, I feel. Oswald’s story himself, as a writer and farmer, is just charming and inspirational too.