Winterkill by Ragnar Jónasson

Orenda Books, 276 pages, $15.95 (paperback)

Ari Thór Arason began his stint as a police officer in Siglufjör∂ur, Iceland, in 2009’s “False Note,” according to the venerable website Stop, You’re Killing Me (www.stopyourekillingme.com). Although that volume has not been translated into English, the rest have been and Ragnar Jónasson has amassed an English-speaking following.

Unlike books set in the main Icelandic city of Reykjavik, Jónasson’s Siglufjör∂ur books may seem slow-moving and quaint. The northern town of Siglufjör∂u is slow-moving and, especially before the new tunnel was opened to allow traffic during the snowy winter months, was trapped in time because of its isolation. Now there are ski venues attracting winter tourists and quaint shops attracting summer tourists.

Ari Thór is a city boy from Reykjavik. He was dismayed with his assignment to Siglufjör∂ur but grew more comfortable with the help of his superior, Tómas. Now Tómas has left for Reykjavik, in an irony not lost on Ari, and Ari is the boss, such as it is. Even after seven years or so, Ari still doesn’t feel much like a local. The “real” locals know family histories and stories going back generations. It appears, however, that Ari has finally shaken the sobriquet of “The Reverend,” awarded him when he first arrived because he once attended a seminary. Progress is in baby steps in that part of Iceland.

Another thread flowing through the books is of Ari Thór’s love life. He has had an on and off relationship with Kristín. They share a three-year-old son. Kristín and Stefnir (which the handy guide tells us is pronounced “STEB-neer”) have come for a visit over the Easter holiday. Ari has some unrealistic hope they will want to move back from Sweden where Kristín is studying currently.

That’s the background. Now here’s the mystery.

Late one night, a nineteen-year-old girl, Unnur, is found on the sidewalk below a house which was converted into apartments. It very much looks as though she jumped from the balcony. Unnur’s mother, Salvör, insists her daughter was a good girl with no problems. When Salvör’s ex-husband shows up he is aggressively insistent that someone has murdered his daughter and Ari needs to find the murderer or heads will roll. It is the first major crime for Ari to solve without his mentor by his side.

Unnur was studious and shy. She apparently didn’t have a good reason to be in the apartment building except to jump off the balcony. There is nothing to indicate murder. But Ari’s conscience will not let “I don’t know” suffice as an explanation to the distraught parents. Through luck and perseverance, he digs toeholds into the case and discovers anomalies.

One of the reasons Ari and Kristín broke up was supposedly because his job took up too much time. What appeared to be a straightforward suicide seems to blossom into something more when a patient with dementia in a nursing home writes, “She was murdered,” on his wall. How will Ari balance his growing case with the short amount of time he has to re-bond with his young son?

In the process of describing Ari’s case, author Jónasson gives us a little more of a tour of the surrounding area — something at which he is very good — and makes the cold, forbidding north seem more like a wilderness paradise than ever. Then, of course, Jónasson throws in a wicked snowstorm. Not even the intrepid locals want to venture out.

This is not a cozy mystery, but the winter storms, power outages, most excellent bakery, fancy hotel, and polite locals would all be at home in a cozy mystery. Take everything you can from this book, because it may be the last Ari Thór episode. I have liked everything he has written, especially the Hulda Hermanssdottir series.