Category: Historical Mysteries

The Reckoning by John Grisham

October 13, 2022

Originally published in 2018

Pete Banning was Clanton, Mississippi’s favorite son—a decorated World War II hero, the patriarch of a prominent family, a farmer, father, neighbor, and a faithful member of the Methodist church. Then one cool October morning he rose early, drove into town, and committed a shocking crime.  Pete’s only statement about it—to the sheriff, to his lawyers, to the judge, to the jury, and to his family—was: “I have nothing to say.” He was not afraid of death and was willing to take his motive to the grave.

In a major novel unlike anything he has written before, John Grisham takes us on an incredible journey, from the Jim Crow South to the jungles of the Philippines during World War II; from an insane asylum filled with secrets to the Clanton courtroom where Pete’s defense attorney tries desperately to save him. 

The Reckoning is far from my first encounter with the work of John Grisham though this is the first time I have written about one of his books for the blog. Like many, I first encountered his stories through the many film adaptations made in the late 90s and early 2000s and then went back to read the novels that inspired them. At his best Grisham is a highly engaging storyteller able to create tension and excitement in his stories about our legal processes and the search for justice.

Like much of Grisham’s output, The Reckoning follows a series of trials and legal processes connected with a crime: the murder of a pastor by a decorated war hero, Pete Banning. What is most notable about the murder however is that the killer initially admits his guilt but refuses to justify or explain his actions. While we will spend the novel following the legal processes connected with that murder and its aftermath, the mystery at the heart of his novel is what was the motive for the killing.

In other words, The Reckoning is an example of a mystery in the inverted style. We begin the novel witnessing the murder so we know who did it and the means used – what we are doing is searching for an explanation for its causes. I typically refer to stories in this style as justification narratives or whydunits. This is not always an easy type of story to do well but I think it pairs particularly well with legal thrillers because those stories tend to involve a lawyer looking for some good reason they can supply to try and prepare the best defense possible for their client. One example of that approach working well is Ferdinand von Schirach’s The Collini Case which was one of the first novels I reviewed on this blog.

Before I go much further though there is one way in which the book was a little atypical of Grisham’s usual style and that is it being a work of historical fiction. Grisham’s historical setting, rural Mississippi during the Jim Crow era, is convincing and important to the content of his story in several ways. For example, Pete Banning’s war service is very recent.

As you may expect, a novel set during this period and with those issues in the background can sometimes be quite uncomfortable to read. For instance the Banning family, we are told, treat their black workers better than almost anyone in Clanton yet there is an element of self-satisfaction in their thinking that is never directly explored. Grisham is far more effective when articulating how the legal system of that time was set up to protect the interests of wealthy, white landowners like Banning in ways it never would for the area’s black residents.

The scenario that Grisham creates for this novel is an intriguing one and I did appreciate that he does create and sustain some ambiguity in how we should think of Pete Banning. By not stating the reason for the murder until close to the end, all we have to go on is our perception of him as a man and his own sense of conviction that he has done the right thing both in committing his murder and then being prepared to be punished for his own actions.

Whether this is effective will depend on whether you consider Banning to be a sympathetic character or not. I think it is clear that Grisham considers him a hero, particularly from the book’s lengthy mid-section in which we follow his wartime exploits in far too much detail, but I personally struggled to warm to him or care what his reasoning was for the murder.

I was more sympathetic towards Pete’s two children and his sister who have to try to navigate the fallout from the murder. Both children begin the story at the start of their adult lives and so are stuck between their impulse to live their own lives and to return to Clanton in the hope they can do something to help their father. Given that they had no involvement in the situation themselves and everything they stand to lose, it is easier to invest in them and empathize with all they have lost.

Perhaps the character I sympathized most with however was a more minor one – Pete Banning’s attorney. He spends the entire novel being frustrated at every turn by his uncooperative client who blocks every avenue of defense open to him all while dodging paying his legal fees. Grisham does a good job of exploring the ways a client can frustrate their defender.

The other thing I found really interesting about the book was some of the historical background Grisham works into the first section. After reading more about Jimmy Thompson, a particularly colorful character, after encountering him briefly in the novel and I felt that the inclusion of some real historical figures helped bring the story to life all the more.

The mid-section of the novel covering Pete Banning’s war experiences is similarly well researched and features several real historical figures. His treatment of those is also very effective but here I felt Grisham gets lost in his enthusiasm for his historical research and loses track of the core of his story. Clearly the historical events Grisham covers were fascinating to him but given they are just providing background, I feel that far too much time is spent here, only slowing the story down.

Towards the end of the novel we do finally learn the reason for the murder. The circumstances described are interesting and expands on some of the themes Grisham had been exploring very well. Some important details are foreshadowed or clued pretty well which does make it feel pretty satisfying in how it ties some plot threads together, even if I don’t think it makes me feel quite the degree of sympathy for Banning that I think I was meant to.

While the book didn’t quite manage to prompt the emotional reaction I think the author intended, I think it has some interesting things to say about justice and also how unsatisfying that process can be. Even more powerful though is the book’s presentation of the period and place in which it is set. As much as I may grump about the book’s bloated midsection, the historical context of the story is important and Grisham does a really good job of exploring the ways that that the story’s setting affects how events unfold. It is that discussion that I think will stay with me longest when I think about this book.

The Verdict: Grisham is at his best with the sections of this novel focused on the legal processes surrounding the murder. I was less convinced by the book’s middle section which struck me as unnecessarily long and detailed, slowing down the story, but the ending was interesting enough to me to justify the journey.

Interested in purchasing this book to read it yourself? There is a pretty good chance you will be able to track down a copy of this book at your local bookstore or perhaps secondhand or thrift stores. If you need to special order a copy the ISBN for the US hardcover is 9780385544153, the US paperback is 978-1984819581 and the US mass market paperback is 978-0525620938.

Full disclosure: the links above are for Bookshop.org, an online bookstore where your purchases help support your local, independent bookstores. These are affiliate links so if you do purchase a copy through them I may receive a small commission.

Flying Too High by Kerry Greenwood

June 11, 2022

Originally published in 1990
Phryne Fisher #2
Preceded by Cocaine Blues
Followed by Murder on the Ballarat Train

Walking the wings of a Tiger Moth plane in full flight ought to be enough excitement for most people, but not Phryne Fisher, amateur detective, woman of mystery, as delectable as the finest chocolate and as sharp as razor blades. 

In this, the second Phryne Fisher mystery, the 1920s’ most talented and glamorous detective flies even higher, handling a murder, a kidnapping and the usual array of beautiful young men with style and consummate ease–and all before it’s time to adjourn to the Queenscliff Hotel for breakfast. Whether she’s flying planes, clearing a friend of homicide charges or saving a child from kidnapping, she handles everything with the same dash and elan with which she drives her red Hispano-Suiza.

After having a rough old time with The Institute earlier this week, I felt that I didn’t want to take any risks with my next read. Instead of trying something new I would instead revisit a book I had already read and hope that it would give me a much-needed lift.

I discovered the Phryne Fisher novels a little over a decade ago at a point where I was just starting to get back into reading mystery fiction. The books, as I noted in my review of Cocaine Blues, read more as adventures than detective stories and the reader should not expect to treat these as fair play mysteries. They are however enormously entertaining thanks to a broad cast of colorful recurring characters, the striking Australian settings, and the personality of our heroine, Phryne.

Phryne finds herself engaged in trying to solve two mysteries in Flying Too High. The first involves the death of a rather unpleasant businessman who has been bashed on the head by a heavy rock. The man’s son, whom he struggled to get on with, is blamed for the crime but Phryne points to some logical flaws with this explanation. Instead she commits that she will prove the man’s innocence and that she will track down the real killer.

The main focus of the novel however, or at least the source of the greatest drama and storytelling energy, is the other mystery: the kidnapping of a child. Once this story point is introduced, the urgency of that scenario dominates the story and almost all of the action and development occurs in this storyline. Greenwood will wrap up the other storyline by the end of the novel but it feels almost like an epilogue – the story reaches a crescendo with the resolution of this kidnapping.

One of the reasons that I think this second storyline comes to feel like the more significant one is the natural sympathy that the reader will feel toward the plight of a child. This is amplified by allowing the reader to follow the story not only from the perspective of the investigator but also from that of the victim, Candida, and her kidnappers. This adds to the sense of urgency, reminding us that Candida is in imminent danger and it also lets us into the thinking of her kidnappers. We know what they have planned adding to the desire to see Phryne succeed in rescuing the child.

As I suggest earlier, readers should expect the actual detection here to be quite slight. There are few clues to consider while the kidnappers’ motives and plans are known to the reader from the start, reducing the possibility of a surprise. The adventure angles here are great fun though, building beautifully to a rather memorable action sequence in which our hero comes by plane to try and save the day.

The only aspect of this story thread I didn’t love relates to an aspect of the resolution. I will try and treat as carefully as possible here to avoid spoilers!

Towards the end of the novel there is a point at which Phryne cuts a rather unsavory deal with someone to buy their cooperation. It’s a really odd moment, hitting a very strange and perhaps unsettling note in relation to the themes of the novel. What’s stranger, it doesn’t feel remotely necessary to the development of the story overall, nor its themes. In short, that part of the book just doesn’t sit quite right with me…

That first mystery plot, while receiving little narrative attention throughout most of the novel, is at least a little better-clued than some others – at least with regards a few points near the end. There are a few observations to be made, some very clever, concerning the murder method that the reader might work out before the sleuth.

The real heart of the book though lies not in the mysteries but in seeing the continuing expansion of Phryne’s circle of helpers. After the first volume gave us Bert, Cec and Dot, this one adds a pair of housekeepers into mix, amusingly each named Butler. This is nice firstly because it reflects that sense that Phryne is slowly putting down roots in the area but also because it allows for us to see Phryne once again through the eyes of someone who is not already accustomed to some of her behaviors, reintroducing some of her eccentricities and foibles.

It is this sense of an adoptive family building up around Phryne, comprised of a really unlikely blend of very strong but fun personalities, that I think is my greatest sense of pleasure when it comes to this series. There are still a few more elements to slot into place but overall I think it is very impressive how quickly this series comes to find a sort of rhythm.

So, where does that leave me with Flying Too High? I think it is often quite an exciting tale and I appreciated that it isn’t static but rather makes use of a range of backgrounds and settings. There are two barriers to me recommending it however. The first is that it doesn’t read so much like a mystery as an adventure. That may be just what you’re looking for. The bigger barrier though for me is that there are a few parts of the story that feel very, very dark, in one case bordering on being in rather uncomfortable taste.

For those that read and enjoyed the first in the series, Flying Too High is a solid choice for a next step. It’s quick, exciting and certainly worth a look – particularly for fans of historical stories.

The Tick of Death by Peter Lovesey

March 7, 2022

Originally published in 1974
Also titled An Invitation to a Dynamite Party (UK)
Sergeant Cribb #5
Preceded by Mad Hatter’s Holiday
Followed by A Case of Spirits

London, 1884: A series of bomb blasts in public places is causing mayhem throughout the city. Even Scotland Yard’s CID office becomes a target, throwing suspicion on Constable Thackeray. The primary suspects are Irish terrorists seeking independence, but could the villain be someone else? A beautiful Irish woman? An American athlete? Sergeant Cribb reluctantly enrolls in a bomb-making course and infiltrates the Dynamite Party. 
Based on the real events in London between 1884 – 1885, the story had its own resonance ninety years on.

The very first post on this blog was about one of Peter Lovesey’s Sergeant Cribb novels (The Detective Wore Silk Drawers) so it feels rather fitting to return to that series for post #501. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. I needed some motivation to reread a book I remembered as one of the weakest in the series which that reasoning just about supplied.

The book begins in the aftermath of several bombings that have taken place across London in apparent support of the cause of Irish independence. Sergeant Cribb is recruited not only to learn more about how to make bombs but to also learn more about the activities of his former subordinate Sergeant Thackeray who is believed to be involved in the campaign. He soon identifies a group of suspicious individuals and finds himself infiltrating their group.

One of the reasons I was not particularly excited to return to this book is that I regard its mystery elements as incredibly slight. The questions posed at the start of the book are pretty simple – who are the dynamiters and how is Thackeray involved with their activities? Neither question proves to be particularly puzzling – we just need to wait to meet the very obvious suspects in the case of the first, and talk with Thackeray a couple of chapters in for the second (this explanation is one of my favorite parts of the book but it comes very easily and early in the novel). From that point onwards there is no puzzle to speak of at all – we are simply watching the action unfold and wondering how Cribb will get himself out of trouble.

That is, of course, not a problem if you have come to this book in search of a pretty competent historical thriller. Lovesey moves quite quickly to put Cribb in an intriguing and dangerous situation where he is forced undercover and he manages to emphasize the risks involved quite effectively. It is not dissimilar in fact to some parts of The Detective Wore Silk Drawers which also played with the idea of putting a detective undercover. However I think the choice to use Cribb himself for that task, as Lovesey does here, is better than inventing a third party for a one-off adventure.

The disadvantage with that approach however is that Cribb spends much of the book on his own, working under an assumed identity. Cribb’s personality is a huge part of what made the previous volumes in the series so much fun along with his interactions with Thackeray. While I think this has a tighter, tidier narrative than some of its predecessors, I found myself missing the lighter, more humorous exchanges Cribb would have in those stories. The few flashes we see of the old Cribb and a handful of appearances from Thackeray are certainly welcome but they also serve as a reminder of what is missing for much of the book. The material here is just less whimsical and fun.

As for the historical context, I do appreciate the author’s attempt to draw on some real events and the note included at the end of the book. The issue of home rule certainly defines the politics of this era, but I do not feel that I came away with a greater understanding of the period the way I normally do when I read entries from this series. Even the sporting elements, typically one of the strongest features of Lovesey’s early work, feel a little colorless and bland compared to the depictions of competitive pedestrianism in Wobble to Death or bare-knuckle boxing in The Detective Wore Silk Drawers. To be clear, I do not feel that the treatment here of those elements is bad but rather that there is little here to grab me beyond the core premise.

On the plus side, the author avoids unnecessarily stretching out the story and does a good job of keeping things moving forwards, building a strong sense of tension as we near the denouement. While there may not be much in the way of a puzzle for the reader to engage with, there are a few memorable sequences in the latter half of the book that have a page-turning quality.

The problem for this reader though is that the book simply doesn’t deliver on what I like about the Cribb stories. While Cribb may not be the greatest proponent of ratiocination, here he just seems to blunder through the case, getting carried to its end by accident, coincidence and coercion. As for the character himself, he feels conspicuously absent for much of the undercover portion of the novel, even though we are following his activities. Some detectives simply need a Watson and I believe this book demonstrates that Cribb falls firmly into that camp.

The Verdict: A competent historical thriller but it fell short for me both as a mystery and in the way it uses Cribb.

Rizzio by Denise Mina

October 4, 2021

Originally published in 2021.

The Blurb

On the evening of March 9th, 1566, David Rizzio, the private secretary of Mary, Queen of Scots, was brutally murdered. Dragged from the chamber of the heavily pregnant Mary, Rizzio was stabbed fifty six times by a party of assassins. This breathtakingly tense novella dramatises the events that led up to that night, telling the infamous story as it has never been told before.

A dark tale of sex, secrets and lies, Rizzio looks at a shocking historical murder through a modern lens—and explores the lengths that men and women will go to in their search for love and power. 

Rizzio first came to my attention a little over a week ago when I read a review of the work by Fictionophile while on my lunch break. Minutes later when I got back to work I came across a copy and, struck by the coincidence, I decided to check it out. It was fate, right?

The novella depicts the events of March 9, 1566 when David Rizzio, the private secretary to Mary, Queen of Scots, was stabbed to death by a group of conspirators in front of the Queen during an attempted coup. It’s a short work and rather than attempting to depict every moment of that night, Mina focuses on the most dramatic moments and those that best illustrate some of the motivations and tensions at play within the various groups of individuals that night.

The events of the evening are certainly dramatic and for those who do not already know the tale, will likely contain a few surprises as we follow how the events unfold and are ultimately resolved. As interesting as the events are however, I think the real point of focus is meant to be on the individuals involved in those events and exploring their motivations, thoughts and feelings at points during that night.

One idea that I think sits at the heart of this novel is that the idea that history is wrought by the ‘Great Men’ is a false one. Those people who viewed themselves as Statesmen were ultimately just men, often operating out of personal jealousies or for gain rather than the higher motivations they try to ascribe to their actions. They also rarely exercised the level of control over events that they believed that they had – history often comes down to fluke and coincidence rather than intentional planning and its effects are often wider than they may initially seem (we are reminded at the end of the novella that Mary’s child is James I of England).

I think Mina presents a pretty convincing case for that in the characters of Ruthven and Darnley, carefully exploring not only how these characters perceive themselves and their actions but how they are seen by those around them and some of the contradictions between what they say and how they act. By the end of the novella I felt I had a really clear understanding of these characters as well as several other figures around Holyrood at that time and I was struck by just how dimensional many of those portraits are given how short this piece is overall.

The other theme that resonated with me was the idea that history can easily be turned into mythology. The novella’s final chapter drives this notion home by bringing things forward several centuries and discussing how this moment in history was perceived by readers of Sir Walter Scott and has come to be viewed centuries after it happened. In contrast, Mina seems to want to strip it of that distance and some of the romance of history and to show it as borne of a relatable human desire and emotion. That this was something that happened to real people.

One method Mina uses to try and connect to these characters as people is to not try and reproduce sixteenth century language but to have them speak in direct, sometimes quite coarse or violent language. This emphasizes both the danger they are in but also the emotions that they were experiencing, even when they are not always entirely aware of them. A good case in point would be Darnley where the reader may well perceive subtext to some of his comments and concerns that he clearly does not understand or see himself.

While I know that some dislike the idea of historical fiction written in modern language, I do think it can be very effective and certainly here I think it is. Not only does it bring the violence of the situation quite vividly to life, it also helps to highlight and address many of Mina’s themes and the connections to issues still being experienced in Scotland today.

It helps too that some of Mina’s phrases are fantastically concise and effective. One of my favorites was the description of Henry Yair as ‘a killing spree looking for an excuse’ which conveys a lot about the intensity and attitudes held by that character.

Perhaps surprisingly, the least compelling character in the whole piece is the one who gives his name to it. While we learn a little of Rizzio’s background and more about his relationships with several of the characters, I never felt that the secretary made much of an impact at all as an individual. Instead, all we really get to learn about him is the fear he shows in the moments before his death.

It could be that was Mina’s point – that the murder was never really about Rizzio but that his arrest and murder was just a pretext for the events of that evening. Either way, this story quickly moves beyond the incident to explore many of the tensions within the Scottish court at this time.

One comment I have seen in several reviews of the work is that some wish that the work was longer. While I can understand that desire to have more, I am not sure that the additional detail would have benefitted the work. The reason that this worked for me was that it feels so tight and so focused on exploring those themes and ideas. I find it hard to think what could have been added that wouldn’t have just slowed the story down.

Rizzio won’t be to everyone’s taste. For one thing it isn’t really a mystery at all but rather a historical crime story. For another, I would suggest that it is a work where theme is more important than action as shown by the way it speeds through the conclusion to that night’s violence. It is an interesting piece though that I think has some intriguing things to say about how we view the past, the people who lived then as well as the political and social movements of long ago.

The Verdict: A thoughtful exploration of how history is made and later interpreted.

A Study in Crimson by Robert J. Harris

July 31, 2021

Originally published in 2020
Sherlock Holmes 1942 #1

London, 1942.

A killer going by the name of “Crimson Jack” is stalking the wartime streets of London, murdering women on the exact dates of the infamous Jack the Ripper killings of 1888. Has the Ripper somehow returned from the grave? Is the self-styled Crimson Jack a descendant of the original Jack—or merely a madman obsessed with those notorious killings?

In desperation Scotland Yard turn to Sherlock Holmes, the world’s greatest detective. Surely he is the one man who can sift fact from legend to track down Crimson Jack before he completes his tally of death. As Holmes and the faithful Watson tread the blacked out streets of London, death waits just around the corner.

I have previously revealed the role that the animated movie The Great Mouse Detective played in my becoming a mystery fan. It was not just an entertaining adventure in itself, it also introduced me to some of the story beats and ideas of mystery storytelling and specifically to the character of Holmes. It did this well enough that when I happened upon one of the Rathbone Holmes movies a few years later I couldn’t resist watching with the series quickly becoming appointment viewing for me whenever they were repeated on weekends or during school holidays.

For me, at least during my early childhood, Holmes was not a Victorian gentleman who travelled by hansom cab but someone pitching into Britain’s war effort, matching his wits against the Nazis. I loved those movies because of, not in spite of, the setting and pulpy style and I determined I would watch them all. In those pre-internet days I had little idea just how many there were so whenever I spotted a new one listed as showing in the Radio Times it was particularly exciting. Not that it stopped me rewatching those ones I had already seen.

Little wonder then that when I discovered A Study in Crimson, the first novel to my knowledge that specifically features that wartime Holmes incarnation, I set everything else aside and immediately started reading…

The novel opens with a short adventure in which Holmes and Watson are summoned to a scientific research installation to investigate the disappearance of a scientist from within her locked bedroom. This is actually one of two short impossible crimes within the novel and I was entertained but neither case is substantial enough on their own to justify fans of that form seeking it out. Both cases do serve an important role in demonstrating Holmes’ gifts are methods before we delve deeper into the central mystery.

That case concerns the murder of several young women in the streets of London. The first two murders occurred on the anniversaries of the corresponding murders committed by Jack the Ripper and there are some other similarities in the crimes that seems to suggest that there may be a copycat. That is particularly worrying given, as Holmes points out in the quote above, it seems to suggest that further murders will follow on the anniversaries of the subsequent murders.

The idea of taking Holmes and having him come face-to-face with the Ripper, or someone deliberately emulating him, is not exactly unprecedented. I remember playing a PC game called The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes in the mid-90s which featured a murder that Lestrade wants to attribute to the Ripper (spoiler: it isn’t) and there have been plenty of other stories such as Big Finish’s Holmes and the Ripper or the movies A Study in Terror and Murder by Decree. Still, while it may have some familiar elements, I think there is enough novelty introduced here with the time gap between the original crimes and those being investigated that it avoids feeling derivative.

One of the reasons that I think this works is that the period setting contributes to the sense of fear surrounding the killer being at large. This was the era of the blackout meaning those who cannot help but be out at night will feel all the more at risk. This also helps build a sense of tension later in the book as our heroes attempt to patrol the streets in the dark in the hopes of preventing subsequent murders.

I think this is just one example of how the novel uses its historical setting well, drawing on elements of the period such as radio broadcasts, American GIs and air raid patrols to create a strong sense of place and time. It was this sort of material I most hoped to find in this book so I was happy to see that Harris made effective use of it and made the setting important to the story.

Harris’ Holmes similarly feels like a pretty solid evocation of the Rathbone portrayal of Holmes. He has the familiar moments of prickliness and brilliance but there are some moments of patriotism and advocacy of his principles that make him feel like that more conspicuously heroic version from the movie series. Similarly the language this Holmes uses reminds us that he is a mid-twentieth century man rather than a Victorian (or Edwardian) one.

Watson on the other hand has been presented with some slight differences from the Nigel Bruce portrayals in those movies. Harris’ Watson is still a little old-fashioned and formal in some social interactions but he never appears to be foolish or an overtly comedic creation which is, I feel, to be welcomed. He is however the warmth and the heart of the novel – something I feel he has in common with the Bruce portrayal of the character.

Several other familiar characters from the Holmes universe make their appearances with different degrees of attention. These include Mycroft, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson, all of whom struck me as not dissimilar from their traditional roles. I was far more interested in learning about the members of the Baker Street Irregulars, particularly their leader Wiggins who remains in London. This once again tied nicely into the novel’s historical setting but I also appreciated hearing how he felt about Holmes and the enormous sense of respect he feels for his hero.

These elements, combined with the novel’s setting, go a great way toward evoking that sense of the original movie series. This story offers some lighter moments, including a sort of awkward romance for Watson, as well as a solid hook in the idea of the copycat Ripper killer. As much as I enjoyed those elements however and the sense of nostalgia I felt, I did think that the novel was a little disappointing in the way it presents the investigative portion of the novel itself.

I know from my own readings (and re-readings) of the Doyle canon that Holmes’ stories often feel like they would be better labelled as adventures than mysteries. This is not much different. While there are some clues dotted around as to what has been happening, I feel much of the crucial work happens when we are not following Holmes and that we learn about some elements after the fact which can be unsatisfying at times.

I would also add that I found the solution to be a little disappointing, in part because the case ends up feeling quite simple with limited suspects and surprisingly few clues. While there are a few interesting applications of logic to make some deductions, the case felt over a little too quickly and seemed to be begging for another twist for its resolution. That being said, I was not unhappy with the pulpiness of the resolution which did at least seem to fit the general tone Harris was clearly aiming for.

In spite of those disappointments, I still enjoyed much of what this book had to offer. The central concept of writing more stories for this incarnation of Holmes is a great one and based on the evidence here and Harris’ confident handling of the character, I think it could easily sustain a series and I would certainly be interested in checking out any subsequent installments.

The Verdict: An entertaining, if rather light, read with a solid handle on its version of Holmes and the era he lives in.

Cocaine Blues by Kerry Greenwood

April 23, 2021

Originally published in 1989
Phryne Fisher #1
Followed by Flying Too High

The London season is in full fling at the end of the 1920s, but the Honourable Phryne Fisher―she of the green-gray eyes, diamant garters, and outfits that should not be sprung suddenly on those of nervous dispositions―is rapidly tiring of the tedium of arranging flowers, making polite conversations with retired colonels, and dancing with weak-chinned men. Instead, Phryne decides it might be rather amusing to try her hand at being a lady detective in Melbourne, Australia.

Almost immediately from the time she books into the Windsor Hotel, Phryne is embroiled in mystery: poisoned wives, cocaine smuggling rings, corrupt cops, and communism―not to mention erotic encounters with the beautiful Russian dancer, Sasha de Lisse―until her adventure reaches its steamy end in the Turkish baths of Little Lonsdale Street.

Earlier this week I realized I was in the mood to revisit a previous read rather than try something completely new so I reached for my copy of Kerry Greenwood’s Cocaine Blues, the first of her Phryne Fisher adventures set in late 1920s Australia. I first read this, and many of the other novels in the series, over a decade ago and since then I have enjoyed watching the television adaptation of the series. I was curious to see how I would feel about it knowing the solution.

Phryne Fisher arrives in Melbourne as a result of a request made by an acquaintance that she visit his daughter who is living there and who appears to be suffering from inexplicable bouts of sickness. Keen for adventure she agrees and upon arriving in the city promptly finds herself caught up in another investigation into a cocaine smuggling ring and to find a brutal back alley abortionist.

The novel begins with a chapter that not only introduces us to Phryne but also shows her powers of observation at work as she cracks a jewel theft case. It is an effective way to introduce us to a character, also demonstrating her unconventionality in addition to her quick thinking, and it also helps explain the unusual commission she receives. In witnessing her abilities, the woman’s father realizes that she has a better chance of getting close to his daughter and learning the truth of what is affecting her than a male detective ever could.

Another smart choice Greenwood makes is to let the reader get to know who Phryne is and what her values are through her actions rather than exposition. Once we know who she is then Greenwood begins to fill in some of the information about the incidents and experiences that made her the woman she has become. This not only allows us to jump into the cases earlier, it also means that when exposition comes it feels more natural.

I really enjoy Phryne as a character, finding her amusing and pretty admirable in the way she puts her life on the line for others. She trusts her instincts and her own sense of values, relying on them to help her make decisions quickly – something she has to do at several points in this story. She might not be typical of the age in which she is supposed to live in – she is certainly liberated and often shocks the characters around her – but one of the things the book also makes clear is that Australian society in this period offers her a level of freedom she would not have enjoyed in English society. We also see that similarly reflected in the character of Dr. MacMillan, a doctor who qualified at Edinburgh but found she had she move to Australia to be able to practice.

Dr. MacMillan is one of a number of characters that Phryne will regularly use to support her activities as a detective. This book has to introduce us to all of them, establish their characters and help explain why they are willing to put their lives on the line for Phryne at times. Greenwood does this really well, giving each character a memorable entrance and a strong reason for trusting her or wanting to support her. At times this can feel quite fast – the employment of Dot, her maid, is very sudden and rather trusting given its circumstances but as it reinforces Phryne’s tendency to make decisions quickly based on instinct (and Phryne does reflect afterwards on the risks taken), I accepted it.

Greenwood packs her stories with lots of interesting historical details, helping the setting come to life. Some of the most interesting here related to that history of the Queen Victoria Hospital, the women’s hospital ‘established by women for women’. I similarly appreciated the discussions of women’s roles in the Police force of the time.

The cases themselves are each interesting and move quite quickly. I would characterize the stories as being more adventurous than deductive in nature and each is packed with incident and moments of danger. Of the various threads the most powerful for me was the story of the hunt for Butcher George, the backstreet abortionist. This part of the story not only illustrates several characters’ personalities and values, it tells a compelling story of one victim and explores the ways women would find a provider in this period. It is really well done and the resolution of this thread felt particularly satisfying.

As for the other story threads – the cocaine ring and the quest to learn what is wrong with Mrs. Andrews, I appreciated many of the exciting twists and turns and found the payoff entertaining. I particularly enjoyed a sequence in which Phryne herself comes under police suspicion. I am afraid I cannot really judge whether I expected the final explanation as I remembered it too well from my first reading, though I appreciated it as a piece of adventure writing and think it felt fitting.

Overall then I enjoyed Cocaine Blues. Revisiting it was just what I needed this week, particularly given my poor attention span, and I appreciated getting to know Phryne and her friends all over again and to rediscover their origins as a team.

The Verdict: More adventure than detective story, this is an excellent introduction to Phryne Fisher who is a marvellous creation.

A Red Death by Walter Mosley

April 16, 2021

Originally published in 1991
Easy Rawlins #2
Preceded by Devil in a Blue Dress
Followed by White Butterfly

It’s 1953 in Red-baiting, blacklisting Los Angeles—a moral tar pit ready to swallow Easy Rawlins. Easy is out of the hurting business and into the housing (and favor) business when a racist IRS agent nails him for tax evasion.

Special Agent Darryl T. Craxton, FBI, offers to bail him out if he agrees to infiltrate the First American Baptist Church and spy on alleged communist organizer Chaim Wenzler. That’s when the murders begin….

It has been a number of years since I posted about Walter Mosley’s first Easy Rawlins novel, Devil in a Blue Dress. That post was designed to be a comparison between the book and Carl Franklin’s movie and, looking back on it, I feel I ought to have given the novel more focus in its own right. Perhaps I will get around to doing that in time but for now I prefer to push forwards and start to read some of the sequels which have been on my TBR pile for years!

First, a word of warning: the events of A Red Death directly and frequently refer to the ending of the previous novel. Enough of the backstory is given to follow what is going on but I would suggest that were you to skip over the first book you would likely not get as much out of it. Not only would you spoil some developments at the end of the last book, you would also miss out on the character development between the novels both of Easy and also of some of the other recurring figures in his life. That would diminish the experience in my opinion.

In the five years that have passed since the end of Devil in a Blue Dress, Easy has become a landlord and secretly invested in three properties using some undeclared income. He has gone to lengths to disguise his ownership of those buildings, hiring a man named Mofass to act as a property manager on his behalf in exchange for a cut of the rent. He keeps an eye on the buildings himself and the residents think of him as a handyman. The arrangement seems to be working pretty well for him until he is suddenly approached by an IRS agent who believes he has tracked down ownership of the properties to Rawlins and wants to audit his financial records.

Easy is clearly in some pretty big trouble. Fortunately he is thrown a lifeline when he is approached by an FBI agent who promises he can make these legal troubles go away and get him on a payment plan for those back taxes. First though Easy would need to do a job for him and for his country. He is asked to worm his way into the confidences of Chaim Wenzler, a community organizer at a local baptist church to try and find proof that he might be a communist spy. Easy agrees, though he is wary of the agent, but his problems soon multiply as he finds himself discovering several bodies…

One of the things that interests me most about the Easy Rawlins books is Mosley’s really thoughtful exploration of the changes taking place in post-war America and how race affected people’s experiences of those changes. This story, set at the height of the second Red Scare, deals with the growing paranoia about the idea that Communist spys and sympathizers could destroy America. The portrayal of that paranoid attitude is done very well but equally effective is Mosley’s portrayal of how those issues did not necessarily extend throughout all of American society. This is both because of limited media access (a character’s first interaction with a television here is quite memorable) but also that it is hard for some to get animated about protecting the American dream when they are prevented from achieving it.

Another aspect of the setup here that I think it particularly effective is the use of the threat of the IRS audit. Informal, undeclared sources of income are a frequent feature of the hardboiled story and I cannot remember the sudden influx of capital ever being commented on in this sort of story before. This not only serves as an effective source of motivation for Easy to get involved in the case, it is also used to comment on the way authority is used.

As in the first novel, the character of Easy is thoughtfully developed here. Easy soon finds himself feeling increasingly conflicted about his role in this case. He finds unexpected common ground with his target, Chaim, and guilt about his duplicity in getting close with him and his family. I enjoyed these characters’ exchanges a lot and felt that the development of this relationship was rich and nuanced, providing a strong center for the novel.

Easy is not a perfect man – some will take issue with his simultaneous proclamations of love for a woman while he sleeps around with several other characters – but he is always an interesting one. Similarly I think that some of the backstory we get around his life before he enlisted in the US army is interesting and futher fleshed out the character.

There are several characters who return from the first novel and I feel that each receives similarly rich development. Mouse’s struggle to understand how to be a father when he had such a toxic relationship with his own is simultaneously fascinating and horrifying while I think Etta Mae feels more richly rendered than in her previous appearance. The overlap between those relationships is intriguing and handled thoughtfully – especially as Easy tries to navigate an awkward situation with Mouse.

A Red Death is not only a historical novel and a piece of character study though, it is a hard-boiled mystery story. Unfortunately the genre elements of the book were, in my opinion, its least compelling features. My issue with it as a mystery is not that it lacks incident but rather than the various incidents we experience feel quite disconnected for much of the novel and so it is hard to focus on a central question or plot problem. Mosley does, of course, bring everything together at the end but I felt that process of consolidation and resolution was a little rushed, reducing its impact.

While I think that the crime plot is less satisfying than that of its predecessor, I appreciated the way Mosley developed his themes and characters. I enjoyed my time with this one overall and look forward to learning what happens next to Easy in White Butterfly.

The Verdict: Though the mystery plot feels a little unfocused, the setting and themes are handled well. Do make sure you read Devil in a Blue Dress first though!

The Devil’s Wind by Steve Goble

January 29, 2021

Originally published in 2018
Spider John #2
Preceded by The Bloody Black Flag
Followed by A Bottle of Rum

1723–Spider John, longing to escape the pirate life he never wanted, has an honest seafaring job at last, aboard a sailing vessel, and is returning to his beloved Em and their child. But when Captain Brentwood is murdered in his cabin, Spider’s plans are tossed overboard.

Who killed Redemption’s captain? The mysterious pirate with a sadistic past? The beautiful redhead who hides guns beneath her skirt? One of the men pining for the captain’s daughter? There are plenty of suspects. But how could anyone kill the captain in his locked quarters while the entire crew was gathered together on the deck?

Before he can solve the puzzle, Spider John and his ex-pirate friends Hob and Odin will have to cope with violence, schemes, nosy Royal Navy officers, and a deadly trap set by the ruthless pirate Ned Low.

It has been a little over two years since I read and thoroughly enjoyed The Bloody Black Flag, the first book in this series. I noted in that review how that book blended elements of the mystery and adventure story genres together very effectively and I am happy to report that this is similarly successful.

This book, like the last, is set in the early eighteenth century in the years following the Golden Age of Piracy. Famous pirates like Blackbeard, Calico Jack Rackham and Charles Vane are all long dead and while their legends are widely known, there is a sense that piracy will soon be on the decline.

Spider John, an unwilling pirate, had long been wanting to return to his old life and we join him as he lies low under an assumed identity while waiting for a ship to set sail. We learn he has enlisted as a ship’s carpenter aboard the Redemption, a merchant vessel headed for Boston, and is keen to see his wife and son who he has not seen in some years. The first couple of chapters are rather leisurely paced and remind readers of John’s backstory, while also serving to update us on what has happened since the last book and reintroduce us to his friends, Odin and Hob, who will join him on the journey.

The ship sets sail as planned but things take a bloody turn when a gunshot is heard from inside the Captain’s locked cabin. The door is broken down and they find him dead with a gun in his hand and a short apologetic note on his desk. It appears to be suicide and yet John notices a few things that seem wrong with the scene leading him to believe it was murder.

As I noted in the review of the first installment, Spider John interests me as an investigator because of the challenges and limitations he faces in that role. To give an example, he is unable to read which means he is unable to properly evaluate and consider the letter as evidence, relying instead on others’ thoughts. Another is that he draws upon his own experiences rather than any formal training. That sometimes means the things he notices are a little unusual but it also helps to make his investigations feel more credible.

Spider John identifies two key questions that he will need to answer. The first is why anyone would want the Captain, who appears to be widely liked by his crew, dead in the first place. The other more technical one is that we must work out how anyone could leave the cabin after firing the gunshot. The only door was under observation from the moment the shot was heard while a hatch was locked from the inside and was also observed within a few seconds. Escape seems impossible so where did the killer go?

The problem is an interesting one, helped by Goble’s thoroughness in showing that those exits were observed by multiple characters within moments of the crime taking place. That helps to establish the reliability of the witnesses, making it clear that the room really was properly locked and that no one could have left without being observed. In short, it clearly establishes the parameters of the room.

As with the first book in the series, the fact that the murder takes place while on the water adds a little novelty and intrigue to the case a well as serving as a very effective way to close the circle of suspects. The change in setting does force Spider John to act cautiously to guard his identity but it does not fundamentally alter his nature or that of his friends. Expect plenty of salty language and occasional bursts of violence which all helps to conjure up a sense of the historical period it is set in.

There are an interesting mix of crew members and passengers aboard the Redemption, several of whom seem to be carrying their own secrets. I think it is arguable that we do not spend enough time with some of them for them to feel truly credible as suspects but I enjoyed the variety regardless and appreciated the various backgrounds and personalities they had.

While I missed some of the atmospheric touches of life aboard the pirate ship from the first book, I did appreciate that the fresh setting offers a look at piracy from a slightly different perspective while still including plenty of references to pirate lore and some of the most notorious figures from the period. Those with an interest in piratical history will find plenty to appreciate here and for those less familiar with it there is an author’s note at the end of the text that provides a little context on a couple of the names mentioned.

After the midpoint of the novel the book introduces some more adventure-themed elements, building to a pretty memorable action sequence that serves as a sort of interlude in the mystery. Goble writes this type of material really well, creating a sense of credible peril for the characters while reinforcing the setting and theme of the series. As in the first book, I really enjoyed this blend of the mystery and adventure styles and I think without it the setting would never truly come to life.

The mystery does play fair with the reader who will be given all of the information required to solve the case prior to the final accusations being made. Fans of locked room stories will no doubt recognize the significance of one of the last clues to be shared but I thought it was a fun reworking of a familiar concept that felt appropriate to the setting. It struck me as being quite credible, both in terms of someone being able to imagine it and being able to pull it off. While I had worked out who did it, why and how, I realized that there were some clues given that I had overlooked that made me appreciate the solution all the more.

Overall then I thought that this was a pretty enjoyable second installment in the series that recaptured the things I enjoyed about the first. The third volume, A Bottle of Rum, is already out and the fourth is expected in a few months so clearly I have a little catching up to do. Based on this experience I am sure I will be doing so soon.

The Verdict: An enjoyable blend of mystery and historical adventure. As good as the first installment.

Monk’s Hood by Ellis Peters

January 20, 2021

Originally published in 1980
Brother Cadfael #3
Preceded by One Corpse Too Many
Followed by Saint Peter’s Fair

Gervase Bonel is a guest of Shrewsbury Abbey of Saint Peter and Saint Paul when he suddenly takes ill. Luckily, the abbey boasts the services of the clever and kindly Brother Cadfael, a skilled herbalist. Cadfael hurries to the man’s bedside, only to be confronted with two surprises: In Master Bonel’s wife, the good monk recognizes Richildis, whom he loved before he took his vows—and Master Bonel has been fatally poisoned by monk’s-hood oil from Cadfael’s stores.

The sheriff is convinced that the murderer is Richildis’s son, Edwin, who hated his stepfather. But Cadfael, guided in part by his concern for a woman to whom he was once betrothed, is certain of her son’s innocence. Using his knowledge of both herbs and the human heart, Cadfael deciphers a deadly recipe for murder. 

One of the most exciting things to happen to me last week was the release of a boxed set of radio adaptations of Brother Cadfael stories. I have been waiting for this for years, ever since I first heard the previous CD release of Monk’s Hood under the Radio Crimes label and fell in love with Philip Madoc’s rich, booming interpretation of the part. Now this post is not a review of that excellent radio adaptation which incidentally is one of the three stories featured in that set, but I feel I ought to mention my history with that story as background to this review. While I read the book for the first time this week, I am very familiar with the story from its adaptations and so I came to this knowing the solution.

Master Bonel plans to enter into an agreement with the Shrewsbury Abbey of Saint Peter and Saint Paul in which he would gift his estates to the monastery in exchange for lifetime food, stabling and lodgings in one of the abbey’s buildings. The transaction should have been quickly wrapped up but Abbot Heribert’s authority has been suspended until he appears before a Legatine council in London to explain his decision to back the Empress Maud in the recent hostilities. While the paperwork awaits completion it is decided that Bonel and his family should be allowed to complete their move into their new home.

When the Abbey receives a gift of a partridge Prior Robert, who hopes to replace Heribert, decides to send a portion of the bird to Bonel to welcome him and in the hope of currying his good favor. Bonel falls ill shortly after eating it and Cadfael is summoned but he is unable to save him. He does however detect the distinctive odor of a liniment he prepared on both Bonel and the remnants of the stew and deduces it was used to poison him. Suspicion quickly falls on Bonel’s stepson who argued with him and would have been disinherited by the agreement with the Abbey but Cadfael believes in the young man’s innocence and searches for a different killer.

Like many of the Cadfael stories I think that the plot itself is relatively straightforward. We can trust that Edwin, that stepson, is not the murderer based on Cadfael’s generally sound judgment of people and because if the only suspect was the killer it really wouldn’t be much of a case. Once you look past Edwin I think it is relatively easy to spot the figure who seems most suspicious but the problem is understanding exactly why they commited the crime.

There are some clues but as with the other volumes I reviewed here, there are not many and the deductions made from them are usually quite simple. In several cases Cadfael acts based on his instincts rather than firm information meaning that some possible ideas are never really tested. This is understandable based on the character and the time he is living in but it means that the story won’t reward those who may approach this in search of a puzzle.

That is not to say however that there isn’t a clever idea at the heart of this story. I appreciate that this is a story in which the setting feels genuinely important to the story. Crucial information is given to the reader in advance of the solution, though its significance is not spelled out, and I enjoyed that this is another story that incorporates some elements of travel at one point.

For those who enjoy the exploration of the sleuth’s background, this story is a treat as it incorporates aspects of Cadfael’s past and uses them to inform the reader about his history and character. The device of bringing Cadfael face to face with a former lover unexpectedly is a clever one and Peters uses it well. Previous volumes had begun to explore this aspect of his character and certainly hinted at his understanding of romance but what we get here not only helps us understand much more of who he was prior to entering the Abbey, it also illustrates the ways he has changed since doing so (as well as some of the ways in which he hasn’t).

I think the other thing this book does in relation to Cadfael’s character is better define his values in contrast to the other members of his order. We had seen some of this in the first novel, A Morbid Taste for Bones, when the monks were disagreeing about what to do about St. Winifred but that felt quite tightly focused on Cadfael’s Welsh background. This novel also has moments that explore his Welsh identity but it also discusses his values more broadly and how his views on what is godly or appropriate sometimes differ from those of his fellow monks. He is, we are reminded, someone who has lived in the real world and experienced things that the others have only thought about in a more hypothetical sense. These are not new ideas but I think they are refined and become more potent here.

I also enjoy the politicking we see take place within the order about the possibility of Abbot Heribert being replaced and the tensions that flare up between the brothers. Peters gives this a comical tone, showing both Prior Robert’s obsequious behavior when speaking with Abbot Heribert and his enormous ambition which becomes clear when he is left in charge. Rest assured that subplot has a nice resolution at the end that left me quite satisfied.

While I enjoy the mystery and the solution, I think enjoyment of this and other books in the series depends to what extent you are interested in the historical elements or in exploring the lives of these characters. Those elements of setting and character are given as much prominence as the murder plotline meaning that some will find the pace slow or possibly resent that they come at the expense of the complexity of the case itself.

For me however this proved a pleasant blend and one I enjoyed rediscovering. Peters is comfort reading for me and so returning to this story felt particularly pleasing to me in these stressful times.

The Verdict: A simple but effective story. The mystery is not complex but it sits nicely alongside the exploration of Cadfael’s character.

Do you have any mystery series you love to return to?

This counts towards the Vintage Scattegories challenge’s Murderous Methods category as a Silver Age read.

The Lord of Misrule by Paul Halter, translated by John Pugmire

December 23, 2020

Originally published in 1994 as Le Roi du Desordre
Owen Burns #1
Followed by The Seven Wonders of Crime

We are in Victorian London, with its gaslight and fog, not long after the Jack the Ripper Murders. A mysterious cloaked figure wearing a hideous, leprous mask and sleigh-bells is stalking the countryside outside the capital, committing murder wherever it goes, yet leaving no footprints.

This is the first Paul Halter novel featuring amateur detective and aesthete Owen Burns, who regards the impossible crime as an art form.

The Lord of Misrule was the subject of a bit of a mystery for me last week when I sat down to start reading it. As I opened up the ebook for what was apparently the first time I found that my copy contained multiple annotations including highlighted passages and notes about aspects of the book. This went from the first page to the very end of the book and, what’s more, each thought was largely in line with the things I was thinking and feeling about the book.

Had I perhaps read the book before and, for some reason, decided not to review it and mark it as unread? If that was the case, why had I no memory of any part of it? Were those notes and highlights somehow transferred from the future? If so, given that I didn’t make any new ones should I expect to find myself in a Back to the Future-type situation where those notes would fade from my ebook when I failed to create them… Or was there some sort of Kindle glitch that gifted me the notes of a kindred spirit? Alas, I will never know. Rest assured however that the opinions that follow are my own – those notes were only consulted after forming them!

The book begins by recounting the story of how the narrator, Achilles Stock, got to know the amateur detective Owen Burns shortly after arriving in England for the first time. That first encounter, while somewhat tangential to the story, is quite amusing and does give us a strong understanding of both men’s personalities and characters. This in turn will help to explain the rather far-fetched circumstances by which the pair come to get involved in this crime story.

The next chapter jumps forward a year as the pair renew their acquaintance and Burns seeks a favor from his friend. Judging him to be a man who enjoys intrigue, he asks Stock to take his place at the Mansfield family’s Christmas at their estate on the outskirts of London to enable him to spend time with a young woman he is enamored with. He is supposed to attend in the guise of the fiance of Catherine, the sister of Samuel Piggott, the man engaged to Mansfield’s older daughter Sibyl.

The reason for the deception is that Catherine fears that for the safety of her brother because of a family curse that strikes fatally when the family occupy the estate at Christmas. It appears that the Lord of Misrule, a killer with a white mask and wearing jingling bells, has been responsible for a number of murders in the family over the centuries including three years earlier when Sibyl’s brother was murdered by an assailant who did not leave tracks in the snow. Achilles agrees to Owen’s request and attends the gathering only to find that further inexplicable events occur, all credited to this Lord of Misrule…

Let’s start with the legend of the Lord of Misrule because I consider it to be the most intriguing part of the book. The concept dates back to an old tradition by which someone is appointed to be the figurehead of the Christmas revelries, organizing games and jokes to entertain the party. While this custom may not be familiar to many today, it does help ground the story around the festive celebrations as well as emphasize that this family legend has been around for some considerable time.

The story of the origins of this Lord of Misrule, when it is relayed to the reader, is actually rather chilling and speaks to the idea of wild excesses being committed by the nobility. While we will know given that this is a detective story that a supernatural explanation will not be the correct one, it is understandable why the historical event would cast such a long shadow over the family and why it would be a very effective idea to revive in the present day. Similarly I love the image of the frightful face appearing at the window – it is creepy and fits in with the older concept of Christmas as a time for ghost stories.

I have more mixed feelings about some other aspects of the setup for this adventure. The circumstances in which Stock becomes involved in the case are quite convoluted and while I enjoyed some of the subterfuge this involves, the story does dance around describing what actually happened all those years ago for quite some time. This does mean that we then get a lot of detail compressed into a few dense chapters which meant that the book read more slowly than you might expect for a 180 page story.

On the other hand, I do quite like the mechanism of having Stock on his own at the start of the adventure and I also appreciate that the business with needing to pretend to be part of the family does mean that he experiences events from the perspective of part of the party rather than as an adversary. This had echoes for me of The Hound of the Baskervilles in its structure of allowing the reader to witness things through the unqualified eyes of the Watson-figure with the knowledge that a more brilliant reading of the crime will be given later when the Great Detective character arrives on the scene and explains it all. Just as with that story, the structure does build our anticipation for that happening.

In the meantime, Stock’s account of his misadventures is often quite entertaining and does manage to emphasize how startling and inexplicable many of the incidents that take place during the festivities are. Halter does do a fine job of creating situations that do seem to be genuinely impossible which only built my interest and left me wondering just how he could craft a solution that would pull everything together in a satisfactory way.

Rather unfortunately I think the solution misses the mark. There are certainly some strong ideas here, not least with regards the explanation for the strange circumstances surrounding Edwin’s death, but the crime that takes place in the present has some elements that struck me as highly unsatisfactory. Particularly the reveal of an critical element on the very last page that had me groaning and feeling frankly a little cheated.

Reading this I was reminded what I look for in impossible crime stories. I want a fantastic premise that becomes breathtakingly simple and logical when viewed from a perspective that would never have occured to me. Halter gives us that with the death of Edwin. The setup is superb while its explanation, viewed on its own, would be quite strong. Were that crime allowed to be the focus of the story I would no doubt be writing a very positive review right now.

The book’s problems lie in attempting to weave additional crimes into the mix. While those present day events add some additional complexity and interest to the investigation, they also make the solution significantly more contrived. Instead of taking a fantastic situation and making it simple, the result is that the reality of that seemingly fantastic situation is even more bizarre than it seems, leaving me rather frustrated and disappointed.

The Verdict: The chilling seasonal elements work nicely but the solution feels rather contrived.