Nancy Herriman has done it again with the latest in her historical mystery series. Set in San Francisco in 1867, nurse Celia Davies once again finds herself accidentally on the trail of a killer, along with will-she-won’t-she possible romantic interest, Detective Nick Greaves.
This novel falls squarely in the cozy mystery genre—murder happens “off page”, there’s no swearing or anything vulgar, and there’s a bit of romantic tension between Celia and Nick. But I also find it unique and much more interesting than the average cozy mystery. To begin with, Celia is not the usual nosy, curious heroine who inserts herself where she shouldn’t be and gets herself into dangerous situations by her own stupidity like so many other heroines I find annoying. Celia is a nurse, at a time when that was a difficult profession for a woman, who offers a free clinic to poor women and children, particularly those who are rejected by San Francisco society of the times—the Chinese (in spite of rampant “anti-coolie” sentiments), the hated Irish, and other struggling immigrants. Celia thinks she destroyed her own marriage because she has a heart of stone. The reader will quickly learn that the opposite is true, even if Celia doesn’t see it herself—she actually cares almost too much for her friends and patients.
It’s one of those castoffs she’s taken under her wing who gets her into trouble in this latest mystery, when the young man stumbles over a dead body. Celia, unlike so many cozy mystery heroines, doesn’t dig around entirely on her own, wandering into dark alleys without telling someone where she’s going, although she takes enough chances to give Nick Greaves heartburn. Which is half the fun of this series, and one of the things that sets it apart: Nick genuinely worries about her, but he also respects her. He never treats her like an idiot, he shares information with her, and he respects her intelligence and insights on the suspects.
And oh, there are so many suspects, including a man with whom Nick has a past—a past that has caused much bitterness between them. Nick would love to find a reason to hang the murder on this man; Celia, however, is friends with him. I loved the way Ms. Herriman gave both points of view. I constantly found myself changing my mind as to his guilt or innocence.
As in the first book, Ms. Herriman’s secondary characters are well worth watching as well. Nobody is there just to fill in the scenery—from Celia’s adorable housekeeper, Addie, to her troubled and troublesome half-Chinese cousin. Every single one is fully fleshed out, with their own stories to tell. And the small, telling details the author uses are so delicious. In describing one character, the man props his elbows on a desk, and shows that the undersides of his sleeves are shiny with wear. Nick notes that this is not because the man is poor and can’t afford a new suit—he’s quite wealthy. He’s also quite scrawny, as if he refuses to spend money on food, either. What a perfect way to demonstrate that the man is a cheapskate, unwilling to buy a better suit. Those tiny details told me a lot about this particular character and cemented him firmly in my mind’s eye as I read. Ms. Herriman does that kind of thing with all the characters.
What I found utterly captivating was the way Ms. Herriman sets the scene. While you’re rushing through to find out “who-done-it”, pause and take time to appreciate the richness of the historical setting. The author describes the sights and odors and sounds of a street car ride (drawn by horses, of course) in such a way that I felt like I was right there, seeing shopkeepers sweeping the street, hearing church bells, or smelling the mud and manure of the streets. I felt like I could use this book as a walking guide to find every run-down warehouse or stately mansion in the book.
I loved going along with Celia and Nick as they unraveled this mystery in old San Francisco. I’m especially grateful, as such a tremendous fan of Ms. Herriman’s work, that I was offered an advance reading copy in exchange for a fair and honest review.