The sixth, and sadly last, Frost novel sees the irascible Inspector having to juggle more cases than ever before. A young girl is reported missing the day before her birthday, and her boyfriend appears to have disappeared as well. The search only turns up unrelated body parts in Denton woods. But whose? A blackmailer is threatening to poison produce in a local supermarket if his demands are not met. A woman's dead body is found on a railway embankment. A new rape case provides DNA that sheds light on an old murder. A man arrives at the station claiming he's killed his wife and chopped up her body, handily scattering it around Denton. Could the body parts that keep turning up perhaps be hers? Frost would think they were, if only for the fact that he's sure the man is lying. And, in the background to all this, the slimy, unpleasant DCI Skinner has arrived at Denton CID, armed with a plan to get Mullet his long-standing wish and have Frost shipped out of Denton once and for all. And then another young girl, from the same school as the first, is reported missing…

If it did not seem so effortless, you would stop to wonder how in Hell Wingfield could possibly write these novels, with their multiple strands, multiple plots and multiple cases all juggled to absolute perfection. The craft it must take is almost beyond comprehension, and, like the best of all crafts, it goes unnoticed. Not only does Wingfield juggle all the multiple cases, with their constant background of police politics, perfectly, but he doesn't confuse the reader either, and I for one have no idea how he does it. Part of the reason must be the clarity of the writing, the directness of the delivery, and the quality of the dialogue. But these are only piecemeal reasons. Just seeing all the cases unfold and individually twist is masterly and nearly beggars belief. Most novelists could tease a good three novels out of the material in A KILLING FROST, but Wingfield, with his outstanding skills of organisation and compression, serves them all up in one amazing police procedural feast. His books are, I suspect, the only ones which truly convey the reality of the workings of a police station, with many investigations all going on at once, all jostling for supremacy, all demanding attention from a thinly-stretched manpower. Were it not for the relatively few novels Wingfield wrote, I'm quite certain he would be considered along John Harvey as the greatest writer of English police procedural novels.

Because of the many plots all happening around each other, the pace is relentless and the book can be a very quick read indeed if you wish it to be. Take it slower, though, and you'll savour the humour, the great laugh-out-loud lines delivered by Frost, occasionally so bawdy that he reminds you of Reginald Hill's Dalziel. A heavy dose of obvious humour is quite rare really, but with the Frost novels it's always been pleasingly overt, and helps balance the tone of what is otherwise a very dark novel indeed.

A few things do slightly jerk the reader out of the story every now and then, it must be said. From the fact that Frost still openly smokes in all manner of public buildings is testament to how long ago the book was likely begun (the gaps between them have always been lengthy), because surely not even Frost would have the nerve to smoke in many of the places he does! However, all that does is mark the story in a certain time, it's hardly a damning criticism. Indeed, even the bitterest of critics would have to look hard to find any of those.

A KILLING FROST is a brilliant send off for Frost, and for Wingfield as well. All the plots eventually tease themselves out, with varying degrees of success and justice, and it's the one you don't expect to, which provides the explosive climax (always a pleasure with these novels, guessing which of the more minor plots will turn the book on its head!) Despite that explosive climax, the book ends on a good pleasurable note. Overall, it's a dark book, but thanks to the many pleasures it offers, it's a very entertaining one as well. If you've only seen the TV series, you are really missing out, because the novels are something else indeed. We can only be sad that there won't be any more.