A detective novel during Victorian London, personal (not private!) investigator Sidney Grice and his ward March Middleton take on a new case. William Ashby is accused of murdering his wife. While March is convinced of his innocence, Grice pieces of evidence lead to Ashbys convinction. But the inspector follows some loose ends, and its no so clear that Ashby really was guilty.
Grice is a really stubborn character, can’t admit any mistakes, stuck on his opinions. Whereas Marchs naivety allows her to be more open to alternatives. Most of the time, I wasn’t sure who’s the better detective of the two of them.
It was a long-winded narrative, but the ambiguous distribution of the roles, and the plottwists in the second part of the book, still made it a interesting and pleasant read.
