Sholto Lestrade was much smarter than Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson put together. At least, that is the premise of this delightful series of books—part detective novel and part historical fiction. For fans of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the revisionist version of the Holmes legend would be damnable heresy. Doyle himself makes an appearance as a hack writer, murder suspect, and questionable physician. If I were casting the part for a BBC series, it would be tremendously tempting to cast a younger Stephen Fry in the role with occasional cameos by his old comedy partner, Hugh Laurie, as “The Great Detective.”
This mystery could just as easily have been entitled “The Struwwelpeter Murders” as the theme running through the recounted events are laboriously tied to a series of bizarre, sometimes macabre, children’s rhymes by Henrich Hoffman. (I’m told that a reference to these rhymes appeared about three years ago on an episode of Family Guy.) In an homage to the Jack the Ripper case, Lestrade keeps getting notes in doggerel that tie the murders to Der Struwwelpeter, a doggerel that allows Lestrade to interview the unbalanced poet, Algernon Charles Swinburne ("Death, if thou wilt, fain would I plead with thee: / Canst thou not spare, of all our hopes have built, / One shelter where our spirits fain would be / Death, if thou wilt?").
As with Swinburne, some of the most delightful (and comic moments) in this mystery are tied to cameo appearances by well-known personalities of the time: General William Booth of the Salvation Army, Swinburne, Doyle, and others. And, as with any historical novel, some of the joy is found in the detail where public works projects have begun, reform efforts are taking place, and advances in technology (in this case, forensics) haven’t caught up with the institutions which need them. Most particularly, I enjoy the characterization of the literary efforts—not just Doyle’s The Strand, but the ridicule dumped on the Metropolitan Police by Punch and the news organs of the time.