There’s not been much Nordic Noir in my life recently, so when I heard that Heidi Amsinck had a new Jensen/Jungersen novel I was straight on it. This series of novels is written in English, although Amsinck’s native language is Danish, and they are set, largely, in Copenhagen. The back cover of this fourth novel says that it’s ‘Jensen’s darkest case yet’ and at times I thought I should have hesitated before signing up. Having finished the book I realise I should have trusted Amsinck all along.

The premise is this: nine year-old Matilde goes missing. Henrik Jungersen comes to the conclusion that there’s a link between Matilde’s disappearance and that of Lea Høgh six years previously. Of course, there is, and it relates to the exploitation and abuse of children. I’m not comfortable with this topic being used as a subject for entertainment, but I’m fully aware that crime writers use their craft to speak up for the victims, and to make us all aware of what lurks often in plain sight. In the acknowledgements Amsinck points out that the book is meant to pay tribute to those in the Danish police who bring the real-life perpetrators to justice. It’s also of note that the nature of the crimes themselves is not the focus of this novel: our attention is centred on instances of coercion and the abuse of trust.

Trust is getting a kicking all over the Danish kingdom. Henrik and Jensen don’t, can’t trust each other, not since a long affair during which Henrik forgot to mention that he was married. Now they try to outdo each other in not even bothering to attempt to feign either trust or mistrust. Jensen’s sidekick Gustav betrays the trust of his aunt, Margrethe, but familial deception is only half of what is happening to the hard-pressed editor of Dagbladet. And an old woman on the fourth floor is betrayed by multiple people at least one of whom justifies it to himself. Meanwhile people are coerced – because they are stupid, or weak, or on the take.

I don’t know what’s going on, but I find both Jensen and Henrik considerably more sympathetic characters than in previous novels in which they were individually appalling but collectively tremendous. Henrik is a shell of himself, following the events at the end of novel 3, and Jensen is expecting, though I can’t remember who the father is (her pregnancy is announced at the end of novel 3). Every now and again I wonder if I should have a quick flick through the previous instalment, but the current mystery exerts too strong a pull.

There are enough red herrings provided for us to draw exactly the wrong conclusions and there is a moment where you really do nod with admiration for the stoicism of the branch of police that deal in these kinds of crimes: watching material that I’m sure they would really rather not focus on, one of the detectives finds an amazing clue by identifying a particular model of television that is in the background. Talk about telly addict.

As we now expect from this author, Out of the Dark is a thriller that draws on darkness but not in a way that is in itself exploitative. It’s a thick book but a quick read that has reminded me just what I’ve been missing from the Nordic Noir genre.

Thanks to Muswell Hill Press for the review copy and to Anne Cater for the blog tour invitation.