There are strong performances across the board, particularly the scenery-chomping Bean, but this is Hughes’ show. He imbues Shardlake with a flinty-eyed pragmatism that clashes with the cheeriness of his companion, Jack Barack. He’ll need it: as he digs further into the mystery of the deaths at St Donatus, the mists and marshland upon which the monastery sits seems to close in on him and danger seems to lurk around every murky shadow.
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