readingomnivore
Well-Known Member
THE MEMORY OF BLOOD is the ninth book in Christopher Fowler’s Peculiar Crimes Unit series. It was published in e-book format in 2011. Its protagonists are Arthur St John Bryant and John May, the Senior Detectives of the Peculiar Crime Unit.
The Peculiar Crimes Unit is called in when eleven-month-old Noah Kramer is killed during an opening-night party given by his father Robert Julius Kramer to celebrate the opening of the New Strand Theatre and the premiere of of its first production The Two Murderers. Young Noah had been severely shaken, then strangled, and his body thrown out a sixth-floor window; the marks on his neck fit the carved wooden hands of a Victorian Mr. Punch puppet found beside the baby’s crib. The door had been locked, and there’s no evidence that anyone had been in the room. The reason the PCU is to cover the death is the presence at the party of Gail Strong, Assistant Stage Manager for the play and the notorious daughter of the Minister for Public Buildings, who wants his daughter excised from the investigation. As the case continues, Kramer’s accountant dies by hanging, with a puppet of The Hangman from Punch and Judy left near the body; later one of the actresses in the play, Mona Williams, dies from being placed in a scold’s bridle, one used in the play, and finally, Kramer himself is killed. Bryant has an idea who’s guilty, but there’s no evidence. While the Kramer case develops, Anna Marquand, the biographer who’s working with Bryant on his memoirs, dies of what’s identified at autopsy as blood poisoning. She has his correction notes to the galleys, some of which are covered by the Official Secrets Act, and someone besides the PCU is looking for them. Re-examination shows death from strychnine poisoning. What did Bryant say that is worth killing her for?
I enjoy the Peculiar Crimes Unit for several reasons. One is the community of extremely different individuals who make up a unit that, despite its differences and dubious status, manages to sustain a clearance rate considerably better than the traditional police. Bryant and May are as different as chalk and cheese, but together, they’re successful. It’s been interesting through the series to see the members of the team change and evolve into a cohesive unit. I enjoy Bryant’s obsession with obscure subjects; as he says of himself to May, “ ‘You missed out my key attribute...my eidetic memory. It’s unconventionally arranged, but more useful than any of your fancy computers. The world seems so intent on erasing its past that someone has to keep notes. That’s why I’m good at my job. I make connections with my surroundings. It’s like throwing jumper cables into a junkyard and sparking off the things you find there. No-one else can do that. It’s why we’re still in business.’ Bryant was being a little disingenuous, and knew it. In truth, his mental connections were extremely haphazard and just as likely to short out.” (28)
The plot in THE MEMORY OF BLOOD is typical of the series, a series of seemingly impossible and/or improbable happenings that do turn out to have a logical explanation. This one involves much esoteric information on the evolution of Punch and Judy and on the development of the automata, once a major form of public entertainment. The killer in the Kramer murders is foreshadowed briefly, but the motive isn’t revealed until after the capture. The subplot of the missing notes is solved, the book closing with Bryant and May resolved to go after the person responsible despite his high place in the British power structure.
Fowler’s ability to evoke place is outstanding: “The gabled gingerbread house behind the graveyard of St Pancras Old Church was finished in orange bricks and maroon tiles, and appeared to have been designed by the Brothers Grimm. Plane trees and rowans hung over it with branches like claws that scrabbled at the windows, leaking sap and dripping rainwater so that moss and lichen grew in abundant clumps above the eaves, gradually consuming it. A miserable-looking heron balanced forlornly at its gate, and a pair of moorhens had bundled themselves against the downpour inside a bucket by the door. This bucolic night tableau was all the more remarkable for being just two miles from Piccadilly Circus, and no more than a three-minute walk from Europe’s largest railway terminus.” (65)
I enjoyed THE MEMORY OF BLOOD. (B)
The Peculiar Crimes Unit is called in when eleven-month-old Noah Kramer is killed during an opening-night party given by his father Robert Julius Kramer to celebrate the opening of the New Strand Theatre and the premiere of of its first production The Two Murderers. Young Noah had been severely shaken, then strangled, and his body thrown out a sixth-floor window; the marks on his neck fit the carved wooden hands of a Victorian Mr. Punch puppet found beside the baby’s crib. The door had been locked, and there’s no evidence that anyone had been in the room. The reason the PCU is to cover the death is the presence at the party of Gail Strong, Assistant Stage Manager for the play and the notorious daughter of the Minister for Public Buildings, who wants his daughter excised from the investigation. As the case continues, Kramer’s accountant dies by hanging, with a puppet of The Hangman from Punch and Judy left near the body; later one of the actresses in the play, Mona Williams, dies from being placed in a scold’s bridle, one used in the play, and finally, Kramer himself is killed. Bryant has an idea who’s guilty, but there’s no evidence. While the Kramer case develops, Anna Marquand, the biographer who’s working with Bryant on his memoirs, dies of what’s identified at autopsy as blood poisoning. She has his correction notes to the galleys, some of which are covered by the Official Secrets Act, and someone besides the PCU is looking for them. Re-examination shows death from strychnine poisoning. What did Bryant say that is worth killing her for?
I enjoy the Peculiar Crimes Unit for several reasons. One is the community of extremely different individuals who make up a unit that, despite its differences and dubious status, manages to sustain a clearance rate considerably better than the traditional police. Bryant and May are as different as chalk and cheese, but together, they’re successful. It’s been interesting through the series to see the members of the team change and evolve into a cohesive unit. I enjoy Bryant’s obsession with obscure subjects; as he says of himself to May, “ ‘You missed out my key attribute...my eidetic memory. It’s unconventionally arranged, but more useful than any of your fancy computers. The world seems so intent on erasing its past that someone has to keep notes. That’s why I’m good at my job. I make connections with my surroundings. It’s like throwing jumper cables into a junkyard and sparking off the things you find there. No-one else can do that. It’s why we’re still in business.’ Bryant was being a little disingenuous, and knew it. In truth, his mental connections were extremely haphazard and just as likely to short out.” (28)
The plot in THE MEMORY OF BLOOD is typical of the series, a series of seemingly impossible and/or improbable happenings that do turn out to have a logical explanation. This one involves much esoteric information on the evolution of Punch and Judy and on the development of the automata, once a major form of public entertainment. The killer in the Kramer murders is foreshadowed briefly, but the motive isn’t revealed until after the capture. The subplot of the missing notes is solved, the book closing with Bryant and May resolved to go after the person responsible despite his high place in the British power structure.
Fowler’s ability to evoke place is outstanding: “The gabled gingerbread house behind the graveyard of St Pancras Old Church was finished in orange bricks and maroon tiles, and appeared to have been designed by the Brothers Grimm. Plane trees and rowans hung over it with branches like claws that scrabbled at the windows, leaking sap and dripping rainwater so that moss and lichen grew in abundant clumps above the eaves, gradually consuming it. A miserable-looking heron balanced forlornly at its gate, and a pair of moorhens had bundled themselves against the downpour inside a bucket by the door. This bucolic night tableau was all the more remarkable for being just two miles from Piccadilly Circus, and no more than a three-minute walk from Europe’s largest railway terminus.” (65)
I enjoyed THE MEMORY OF BLOOD. (B)