The Killing Time
With The Killing Time, Elly Griffiths once again demonstrates her gift for blending crime, character, and high-concept storytelling into something both gripping and deeply enjoyable. The latest instalment in the Ali Dawson series finds its time-travelling detective grounded by bureaucratic caution—until curiosity, instinct, and a missing cat conspire to pull her back into danger.
At its heart, this is a cold-case mystery with a darkly contemporary edge. The suspicious death of a young man, persuaded by a charismatic psychic that he could fly, taps into modern anxieties about manipulation and belief. Griffiths handles this strand with sensitivity, allowing Ali’s scepticism and moral urgency to drive the investigation. The decision to pursue the case outside official channels feels entirely true to character.
The inevitable return to Victorian London is where the novel truly comes alive. The past is vividly realised, rich with grime, menace, and intrigue, and the reappearance of Jones—lost, presumed gone forever—adds both emotional weight and narrative momentum. Cain Templeton remains a compellingly unsettling presence, blurring lines between ally and adversary and deepening the novel’s sense of unease.
What sets The Killing Time apart is its tone. Despite the high stakes and moments of genuine darkness, the book is laced with warmth, wit, and humanity. Ali herself is a thoroughly engaging protagonist: sharp, flawed, stubborn, and often funny, particularly in her interactions with colleagues and in the small domestic details that ground the story.
Inventive without being gimmicky, tense yet playful, The Killing Time confirms Ali Dawson as one of the most original detectives in contemporary crime fiction. Griffiths balances paradox with precision, delivering a novel that is as thoughtful as it is entertaining.
