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William Monk is a man who doesn't know who he is. An accident cost him his memory, but in this book facts and vague memories combine to help him reconstruct part of his past. Now, he earns a living as a private enquiry agent in Victorian England. He is married to the redoubtable Hester who runs a charity clinic for ladies of the night in one of London's worst neighborhoods.
As the story opens, a famous railroad entrepreneur and financier is found dead inside a notorious house of ill repute. Outraged by the apparent murder, the police are expected to cure the age-old problem of men and one of the oldest professions. Soon, everyone is starving, and the violence increases against the women. Hester is kept busy trying to sew up their wounds and setting their bones. She soon realizes that she needs to solve the murder if she is really to help her patients.
William is hired by Katrina Harcus, the fiancée of a well-to-do Londoner, who wants to be certain that her fiancé is not involved in something untoward. She's overheard scraps of conversation that make her feel that a great crime is about to happen.
The plot bogs down as William is seemingly blocked by both his amnesia and a psychological inability to draw conclusions from the plain words that Katrina shares with him. It's one of the most block-headed investigations you will ever have to read about. The story is saved at the end by the tale finally unfolding in dramatic fashion.
Hester's tracking down of the murderer of the magnate is the better part of the story. If William's part had been left out or edited down, this would have been a four-star book. As it is, you will have to enjoy reading lengthy self-examinations by a confused amnesiac to avoid falling to sleep as you read this slow-moving story.
What makes the book fascinating are the marvelous details and local color about London's seamy side and the development of England's railways. It almost makes you wish Ms. Perry wrote nonfiction books.
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