In the seven years William Monk (Funeral in Blue, 2001, etc.) has plied his trade as an inquiry agent, his fear of what he might find has prevented him from ever inquiring very closely into his own past, curtained off by amnesia. Now a new pair of cases holds a dark mirror uncomfortably close. Eminent railroad builder Nolan Baltimore has been found dead near a brothel in the London neighborhood of the shelter Monk’s wife Hester runs for abused prostitutes, with every indication that he was killed by a lady he’d engaged for the evening—perhaps a recent debtor to a usurer like Squeaky Robinson who recoiled in murderous horror when she realized the price of interest service on her debt. Katrina Harris, all but engaged to Baltimore’s partner, Michael Dalgarno, comes to Monk with suspicions that cast Baltimore & Sons in an even more sinister light. She wants Monk to refute the evidence she’s uncovered that links Dalgarno to a construction fraud that could lead to a hideous accident just like the train crash 16 years ago that killed 40 children—a crash that sent Monk’s mentor, banker Arrol Dundas, to die in prison, and one that Katrina’s evidence suggests Monk himself may have been more closely implicated in than he cares to remember.
Perry (Southampton Row, 2002, etc.) is so intent on tracing the fatal misalliances her Victorians forge across class lines they pretend are sacrosanct that she neglects to flesh out her passionate muckraking with characters worth caring about. Only Monk, Hester, and their crusades shine through the period trappings.