A series called The Misty Isle sets its weather before it sets its plot, and in British crime writing that is a deliberate kind of promise. J M Dalgliesh appears with us through that sequence, filed across crime and thriller and general fiction, the standard shelving for detective novels that want to be read as novels.
The Missing Dead is a title in the plain declarative style the genre has always favoured. No cleverness, no misdirection, just a phrase that raises a question and then leaves it hanging.
Place-anchored crime works by accumulation. The landscape stays put, the cases change, and the listener comes back for both in roughly equal measure.