My idea of detective fiction used to be the Marsh, Christie, Sayers variety, where the crime happens in a world insulated from reality. You witness the dead body and get your thrills by following the detective as he pieces the crime together. The murder is the plot, the detective is the star, everyone else is in supporting roles.
More recently, crime fiction authors have been exploring a bigger world, richer characters and all that lies between 'right' and 'wrong'. Motives and motivations are complex, and the truth is not an absolute, independent entity - it lies entangled with unpalatable facts, so much so that sometimes, it's better to not reveal it.
My first Reginald Hill is set in this world, and despite the haunting darkness, I enjoyed every minute. The acerbic writing is what will bring me back to this author. The plotting is impeccable, the interconnecting threads are well laid out and the characters are superb! Kay Kafka stands out, of course, but a few of the minor characters spring some surprises too! Despite a few predictable twists, the story worked very well as a whole. It's even inspired an interest in Emily Dickinson, because the extracts of her poetry used here are beautiful. Looking forward to the next one!