DEATH IN THE EAST

The reappearance of an unwelcome figure from his past in 1922 India leads Capt. Sam Wyndham to an impossible case of murder.

Finally acknowledging his addiction to opium, Wyndham journeys to a remote ashram to take the cure. As he approaches his destination, he spots a man who tried to kill him 17 years ago, when he was a freshly minted constable in Whitechapel. Two days after Bessie Drummond, a housekeeper who’d stepped out with Wyndham before his superior pressed him to drop her and she instantly made an unsuitable marriage, was attacked in an East London street, she was beaten to death in her own room, which was locked from the inside. Wyndham’s own investigations, and his devil’s bargain with a pair of crime lords from Yorkshire, led the police to a suspect who swore he was innocent. Struck by his sincerity, Wyndham raced to pursue new leads, but all in vain. Now the man he’s convinced actually killed Bessie has turned up in the most unlikely place, and there’s every sign that he’s recognized Wyndham. The disappearance and death of one of his fellow residents at the ashram is only a prelude to a second fresh murder—an unholy echo of Bessie Drummond’s death in another locked room, with the added complication that the obvious manner of death seems to have been physically impossible. Mukherjee juggles his two time frames effortlessly, brings both the East End and upcountry India to vivid life, wittily places his hero under the thumb of his own sergeant, and supplies an improbably logical conclusion to Wyndham’s most baffling case to date.

Every time you think you know where he’s going, Mukherjee pulls the rug out from under you with pleasingly insolent ease.