We start on the Island of Møn in 1987. A police officer is called out to a farm, where reports have emerged that a farmer has let his cows escape. This innocuous matter turns into something far more terrifying, when the attending police officer finds three people brutally murdered. In the basement, he finds a little girl cowering under a work bench. Around him – and her – are figurines made from chestnuts and twigs. As he surveys the scene, he’s hit from behind and his life ends.

Fast forward to present-day Copenhagen, and Naia Thulin (Danica Curcic) is about to leave the homicide division in order to take on a new position in cyber crime, a job that will allow her to spend more time with her daughter. However – wouldn’t you know it – a new case is reported and she’s paired with reluctant Europol agent Mark Hess (Mikkel Boe Følsgaard) to investigate.

When they both visit the crime scene, they find utter barbarity – a woman has been trussed to a post, her left hand amputated and her eyes gouged out. At the scene is a figurine made from chestnuts and twigs.

As the series progresses, Thulin and Hess desperately try to find a link as more of bodies are found. Soon, they zero in on a theory that the victims are all mothers who have had difficulty maintaining parental duties. The killer, it seems, is sending in anonymous reports to the authorities claiming abuse of some kind or at the very least what he or she perceives to be neglect.

We’re also introduced to Rosa Hartung (Iben Dorner), the country’s Social Affairs minister, who has returned to work after recovering from the abduction of her daughter. Kristine is presumed dead after a year disappeared and the investigation has been closed.

The two investigations become intertwined when Kristine’s prints are found on one of the chestnuts found at one of the crime scenes, and suddenly it’s game on – the Hartung family suddenly have new hope and and Thulin and Hess have to deal with another dimension to the perplexing case.

That’s when this series really starts to get going. In episode one there was a lot of scene-setting and markers being laid down in terms of plot and characters, but once Thulin and Hess got on it, The Chestnut Man really started to move.

And yet, as slick as the production is (complete with scary music at the right times), the plot twists nicely staged and as engaging as Thulin and Hess are (no surprises that after their initial misgivings about working together they begin to form a close bond… although what’s missing in their relationship is the ying and the yang you get from The Bridge), you do get the feeling that you’ve seen it all before.

Judged in isolation, it’s a very solid, entertaining six-part series and is clever in the way it links the reasons for the crimes with Thulin’s own neglect as a parent. But you do recognise the tropes, both from Nordic Noir and the horror genre, and it was pretty gruesome with some arguing that the framing of the ceremonial murder crime scenes were gratuitous in the extreme.

But the thing that really bothered me were the chestnuts. In the end it all came down to those little nuts and their provenance, which felt strange after such a big build-up.

Still, The Chestnut Man will entertain and provide plenty of creepy thrills and spills if you’re a lover of Nordic Noir.