I love historical fiction and I always enjoy a decent mystery, so Anne Perry is always a solid choice for some rainy-day reading.
This is one of a series of books about a Victorian detective (William Monk) with complete identity amnesia. He has had a terrible accident and he no longer knows his name, his job or his relatives/acquaintances. Throughout the series, he gradually rediscovers himself and who he was. In this book, his friend (well, in a manner of speaking)Hester, a nurse who served in the Crimea, is accused of murdering her patient. Monk then frantically tries to discover the real murderer before she is found guilty and executed.
The quality of the writing is good – definitely a cut above the average for the genre. Perry's prose is solid and fits with the Victorian setting, without becoming overly flowery, and her attention to historical detail makes the book feel really authentic. This authenticity also spills over into her characters, who are a good bit more subtle than the kind of stereotypes that inhabit your average detective novel. The mysteries are seamlessly interwoven with their lives and their reactions to the crimes they face are natural and well depicted. Their relationships with each other are also well-developed, with the protagonists, Hester and Monk, alternating between convoluted arguments and lovely little moments of odd tenderness.
The downside is that these books tend to be fairly formulaic. There's the murder, the beginning of the investigation, the initial arrest, the court case, and then the verdict or the big reveal, or both, not necessarily in that order. It can get wearing at times, but the interactions of the characters and the enjoyable plot twists more than make up for it.