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This week’s Best Translated Book Award post is from Amanda Nelson, managing editor of For more information on the BTBA, “like” our and And check back here each week for a new post by one of the judges.

I once heard a theory that the American South (where I live) has such a higher crime rate than the rest of the country because of the weather. That because itÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s so hot and muggy and disgusting here for so much of the year, people are extra on-edge, extra cranky, extra mean and prone to lashing out. ThereÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s so much thatÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s nonsensical and completely not based in fact about the idea, of course, but it stuck with me. Maybe thatÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s why IÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™m so obsessed with cold weather whodunits. What would make someone commit a violent crime in a place with such soothing, cool, dark weather? Where you could, instead of hurting someone, sit in a cozy sweater and drink a beer?

When the books started rolling in for the BTBA judging, I snatched up the Northern European murder mysteries first. ItÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s hard to write a noteworthy one after the success of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, but that isnÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™t stopping anyone from trying. And while cold weather murder mysteries have a reputation for being very Which Pretty Young Girl Is Going To Be Murdered Next (hello, Dragon Tattoo influence), that hasnÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™t really been the case with this yearÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s crop:

by Nele Neuhaus, translated by Steven T. Murray

The body of a 92 year old Holocaust survivor is found in his home after heÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s been shot, execution style. When his autopsy is performed, a blood marker tattoo for HitlerÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s SS is found on his arm. Soon after, two similar murders of elderly people occur, and investigators realize all the victims are friends of one wealthy baroness who fled the second World War. Now sheÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s an elderly philanthropist and matriarch of her old family. The investigators follow the murdererÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s trail back to the end of WWII and into Poland. The sleight-of-hand here is pretty heavy: youÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™re so focused on the obvious choice for the murderer that you donÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™t see the real one coming at all . . . to the point that you might feel a little cheated. But still an interesting read, especially for history buffs.

by Arnaldur Indridason, translated by Victoria Cribb

The Inspector Erlendur series is famous already, and this prequel takes us back to a look at Erlendur as a newbie detective. This one also has a victim who isnÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™t a pretty dead girl (yay, letÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s stop doing that altogether!) and is instead a homeless, alcoholic middle-aged man. Erlendur comes to recognize the man after he runs into him a few times while patrolling the city at night, and when heÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s found dead, Erlendur is the only person who cares enough to find out if it was foul play. He chases his leads into the underbelly of Reykjavik to find out the truth. This one is a slow build: thereÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s no big car chases to speak of, no real glamour or ultra-violence. But thatÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s what I appreciated about it—itÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s a good lazy Sunday book.

by Joakim Zander, translated by Elizabeth Clark Wessel

A political aide raised in the middle of nowhere in the Swedish archipelago by her grandparents (sheÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s an orphan) discovers a secret via an old lover. An aging, worn out spy who abandoned his newborn baby after watching her mother die in order to keep his cover wrestles with his past by doing laps all day in the swimming pool. When the political aide has to go on the run and the old spy finds out who she is (you can guess, surely), the two of them run for their lives across Europe. ItÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s a Bourne-style adventure without the amnesia, but with the thrills and political intrigue. This one is a dash of WHOdunit, with a sprinkling of whichCOUNTRYdunit, or whichCORPORATIONdunit. Thrillers are so often about what a spyÌÇÐÄ´«Ã½™s life is like in the thick of it, it was refreshing to encounter one nearing the end of his tenure.