The Cuckoo's Calling

‘'Why were you born when the snow was falling? You should have come to theCuckoo's calling, Or when grapes are green inthe cluster, Or, at least, when lithe swallows muster For their far off flying From summer dying.Why did you die when theLambs were cropping? You should have died at theApples' dropping,When the grasshopper Comes to trouble,And the wheat-fields are Sodden stubble,And all winds go sighingFor sweet things dying.''Christina G. Rossetti, ‘'A Dirge''

Tight plot, extraordinary dynamics (and chemistry) between Strike and Robin, clever twists, fascinating depiction of the unique London atmosphere. My only issue was the overly ‘'long'' dialogue and the disgusting character of Rochelle. Ι skipped most of her interactions, I can't stand witnessing English being brutally raped...

On to the next one...

>‘'This was the hour when he found London most lovable; the working day over, her pub windows were warm and jewel-like, her streets thrummed with life, and the indefatigable permanence of her aged buildings, softened by the street lights, became strangely reassuring. We have seen plenty like you, they seemed to murmur soothingly, as he limped along Oxford Street carrying a boxed-up camp bed. Seven and a half million hearts were beating in close proximity in this heaving old city, and many, after all, would be aching far worse than his. Walking wearily past closing shops, while the heavens turned indigo above him, Strike found solace in vastness and anonymity.''