When a man in Australia dies and leaves a bundle of 200 year old documents to an English college, Tim Lacy is hired to bring the documents back to England. But two suspicious deaths in the college may be related to the attempted theft of the papers, and Lacy starts to look into the mystery when the police refuse to see any connection.
Derek Wilson has been a writer of historical fiction and non-fiction for 50 years. His much acclaimed prize-winning works have largely centred on 16th and 17th century Europe. He has used various pen names for his fiction, his current Thomas Treviot Tudor crime series being written under the name D.K. Wilson. The first 2 books in this series - The First Horseman and The Traitor's Mark are based on real unsolved Tudor mysteries and have received enthusiastic plaudits. Readers have favourably compared this innovative series with the books of C.J. Sansom and S.J. Parris. Recent non-fiction triumphs include The Plantagenets, Holbein: Portrait of an Unknown Man, and Charlemagne: a Biography. Derek Wilson graduated from Cambridge and spent several years travelling and teaching in Africa before becoming a full-time writer and broadcaster in 1971. He has frequently written and appeared on radio and television and is popular as a public speaker having appeared at several literary festivals,British Museum, Hampton Court Palace, The British Library and other prestigious venues.
Three and a half stars: An easy to read story that succeeds half of the time. It's one of those books that jumps back and forth between times -- the present in England as the murders take place at Cambridge, and the past as a reading of the Hellfire Papers, which recount the exploits of the rowdy bunch of royal court hangers-on in the early 18th century.
The modern mystery story is satisfying, but I found myself skipping lots of the old story, which seemed superfluous and -- to me -- boring. (Although British readers may get more out of the old writings.)
While this book held my attention from start to finish, it wasn’t what I would call a riveting read. The shifts back and forth between the 20th and the 18th centuries was occasionally jarring as there was little warning in either case which I would be reading. It also promoted this aura of suspension in time, which robbed the book of any urgency. While one character mused that matters were coming to a head, I never experienced the kind of nail-biting, finger-tapping, pulse-pounding sense of risk, excitement or danger.
Instead, the book bogs down in discussions of the kind of internecine backbiting, political machination and jealousy that attends most cloistered human endeavors. Thus, in spite of the so-called salacious nature of the titular papers and the two murders, the novel seemed more like a lens on collegiate rivalry and political squabbling than the unraveling of a mystery.