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In 1940s London, nearing the end of heavy German bombing, life is filled with violent and seemingly arbitrary death. An entire city block may lay smashed into rubble with a single shop left standing. One house may be razed while its neighbor stays virtually untouched. One child dies, another miraculously lives. Sixty years after the final bomb has fallen, the bones of an infant are unearthed in the ruins of the pub it tore apart. Records list the remains as those of a nanny's child who died in the arms of the household's mistress while the heir survived unscathed. Yet another unreasoning twist of fate? It was a time of such confusion and uncertainty - could the records have been wrong? Could the children's identities have been switched? When a City Police DI calls in a personal favor, Jury is pulled into an investigation of orphans, war, history and memories that hit a little too close to home. Ultimately, there is murder. This seventeenth entry in the Richard Jury series finds him more introspective and brooding than ever. It has the feel of a book written mostly for existing fans, with frequent references to previous cases but little or no explanation. All the usual characters are there, but they seem to be devolving into caricatures of themselves. The originality is gone, and eccentric has strayed into cartoonish. Melrose Plant takes all the best dialogue, Diane Demorney runs lacquered fingernails around the rim of her martini glass, Trueblood delights in creating his own drama. Cyril the cat continues to wreak havoc with Chief Superintendent Racer's blood pressure and Racer threatens to kill him. Nothing new here, folks. The pacing was too uneven for my taste, starting at a crawl and dragging along through the labyrinthine plot lines until enough pressure built up for an extremely suspenseful yet ultimately unsatisfying conclusion. If I really wanted to know how this book ends, I'd have to read the next one. Fortunately for those who care, it just happens to be available. It's called THE GRAVE MAURICE, and I recommend checking to see if your local library carries it before you hit the bookstore. There are things Ms. Grimes does extremely well in this novel. No matter how far she strays, the story always winds back around to war and memory, the uncertainties thereof, and trust. She illustrates these themes in myriad ways, both small and large, without ever giving the impression that she is trying to knock a square peg into the proverbial round hole. She also gives the characters very believable motivations, and describes the emotional and physical environment beneath the Waterloo bridge especially well. I was in my teens when I first read this author. The book was called JERUSALEM INN, and I was entranced. I could imagine myself stomping through the cold and snow with Jury and sipping drinks with the gang in Long Pidd; I wished Wiggins would finally get over his various ailments and laughed at Aunt Agatha's obviousness. Unfortunately, the series just hasn't lasted the test of time. The magic is gone, and I won't be visiting any more of Ms. Grimes' pubs in the future. Sometimes, it's just better to remember things the way they were.
Reviewed by Jenifer Nightingale, February 2003
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Contact: Yvonne Klein (ymk@reviewingtheevidence.com)
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