This was a compelling read, full of surprises and populated with interesting people.

Set in London in 1930, (the same year that Christie published 'The Murder At The Vicarage‘ and Sayers published ‘Strong Poison‘) it combines period accuracy with a storytelling style that is more robust than that of the novels of the time. We have multiple murders, some gruesome and some simply efficient, torture, sexual exploitation, routine punishment beatings, corrupt police officers and a secret society of evil men, all described with an openness that would have shocked readers in the 1930s.

At the centre of all this violence and venality is the enigmatic figure of Rachel Savernake. She is far and away the best thing about the book. Trying to understand her propelled me through the book in an unbalanced stagger of constant surprise.

We see Rachel directly in 1930 and through the pages of a journal written in her childhood home decades earlier. The two views were discordant. This dissonance raised questions about who Rachel was and what she wanted. Was Rachel a psychopath? A hero? Both? Neither? Did she want power, revenge or both? Was she a good person doing bad things or a bad person being herself? I loved that I kept changing my mind about the answers to those questions.

The second clever creation in 'Gallows Court' was the character of Jacob Flint, a young reporter working for a scandal rag through whose eyes we see a lot of the action and whose observations and doubts shaped my view of Rachel Savernake. I loved that Jacob wasn't a clichéd hardnosed, ethics-free scandal seeker. He was, apart from his insatiable curiosity, an ordinary sort of man, still capable of empathy and kindness and still vulnerable enough to be shaken by violence and death when he encountered it. Jacob kept the story human and real and provided a filter for assessing Rachel Savernake.

The plot is so complex that it's more like unfolding a piece of origami than following twists in a road. There are secrets within secrets and almost nobody is who they first appear to be.

There is a lot of violence, some of it theatrically spectacular and some of it, the worst of it, vicious but banal. What kept me reading was that, like Jacob, I had a strong need to know why all this was happening and who was doing it.

Through most of the book, I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Then, towards the end of the book, there was one final reveal that was too much for me. I was reminded of the original Mission Impossible TV series which regularly had a moment when someone would rip off a full-head mask and transform into a member of the team. I never found that convincing. It didn't work for me here either. With that last transformation, the thread with which I'd been suspending my disbelief snapped and fell into a crevasse of 'You have to be kidding me'.

Even so, the book was entertaining and Rachel Savernake was compelling so I'll be back for more in this series. ( )

*This review contains spoilers*

Ambitious journalist Jacob Flint doesn't know what he's letting himself in for when he asks the mysterious Rachel Savernake for an interview. Far be it from granting him one, she nevertheless manages to give him his scoop by ensuring he's in the right place at the right time when the body of a well-known banker is discovered. This is the beginning of a sequence of events that sees Jacob reporting on a number of deaths of well-known men; however, when you play with fire, you risk getting burned ...

This book wasn't quite what I was expecting, which was a whodunit set in 1930s London; instead, it is a somewhat convoluted tale of revenge with the mysterious character of Rachel Savernake at its heart. While the story is entertaining enough, there's no denying that the premise is rather far-fetched and the showdown very much over the top, so that I found it difficult not to roll my eyes in irritation.

However, the central character, though always deliberately remote, is intriguing enough to warrant reading at least the next sequel, Mortmain Hall, since she doesn't comply with the usual image of a heroine, for want of a better word, as she comes much closer to being an anti-heroine, in some way. It'll be interesting to see where Martin Edwards takes the story next. ( )

(10) This took me a while to get into, but then when I read in big chunks it was quite entertaining. Lots of twists and turns. Extra-judicial justice and the origin story of I guess the lead 'detective' in what will be a series set in post WW1 London, featuring Rachel Savernake. A sort of female version of Lord Peter Wimsey from Dorothy sayers Golden Age detective series from which the author likely drew inspiration. Although this is much darker. And let's just say, Rachel would chew Lord Peter up and spit him out if the need arose...

Several of London's most wealthy powerful men are turning up dead in scandalous circumstances. Are the deaths related? And Rachel Savernake, a beautiful young heiress, and her hand-selected cub reporter, Jacob seem to have the inside scoop on all the mayhem. The story behind the story and who is actually pulling the strings is quite convoluted. Interwoven into this narrative are diary entries from a girl named Juliet Bretano, a cousin of Rachel Savernake. Rachel seems to take pains to be sure no one finds out about said cousin. So many plot lines, but the author does a commendable job holding it all together and telling an intriguing tale. For the most part.. .

Some details surrounding the illusions and the over-the-top nature of the goings on at Gallows Court did not quite work. It is fine to have a mystery get bizarre and evil but the pact with the reader is that they willingly suspend their disbelief because you have crafted the atmosphere so successfully. I think all the characters seemed like cardboard cut-outs in this novel though which left me cold and feeling a bit eye-rolly about some of the more climactic scenes.

That being said, I think I will read the few sequels that have come out. Good escapist easy reading in the mystery genre with some light historical backdrop, ( )

Jacob Flint, a young man on the make in 1930 London, has a way of winding up at murder scenes before the police do. For an ambitious journalist, such luck can be a gold mine, the source of scoops that rock the city and make his name. However, that particular happenstance also rouses suspicions from the police, who, though unimaginative — aren’t they always? — assume it’s no coincidence at all. Further, the perpetrators of these crimes, whoever they are, seem methodical, persistent, and absolutely ruthless, so that witnesses have a way of disappearing. Consequently, Jacob’s good fortune could be hazardous to his health.

Further, as he tries to piece together the killings, which seem to multiply before his eyes in the most unlikely circumstances, he keeps crossing paths with the mysterious Rachel Savernake — or almost does. The wealthy, reclusive Miss Savernake shows her lovely face only when she wishes, for as long as she wishes, and to select few. Jacob tries frequently to get in touch with her, but he succeeds only when she grants permission, and only on her terms.

Jacob believes she’s the thread that connects the murders; she even presented the solution to one of them to the police. Her ability, intelligence, and boldness make her an object of fear, admiration, and bafflement. Rumor says that as a teenager, she had her half-sister’s parents disposed of, on a whim. So what game is she playing? And why does she take an interest in Jacob, leading him — he thinks — to the scene of the next crime?

This is the elaborate premise for one of the most ingenious, Byzantine mysteries I’ve ever read. Normally I dislike mystery narratives in which bodies fall like overripe apples from a tree, especially if I sense that the story needs another corpse to keep the tension thrumming. Not so, here. Everything fits, and Jacob’s emotional reactions matter, not just how he plans his next move. Edwards doesn’t rush through those emotional transitions, and the novel benefits greatly.

I wouldn’t call Gallows Court character-driven or deeply thoughtful, yet Jacob has an inner life, with ambition warring against a sense of morality and fair play. He has an appealing urge to connect with other humans, even if he doesn’t always know how, and his shock when people in whom he’s placed his trust wind up betraying him feels genuine. When people he knows wind up dead, some of whom he called friend, he takes stock — not for long, necessarily, but so that you see his impulses. He also struggles to put forth his better nature when self-preservation or convenience pulls in another direction.

Rachel’s much harder to figure, and though that follows logically from the author’s need to keep certain secrets, I could better understand Jacob’s fascination with her if her character came across more clearly. As it is, Rachel risks being a trope, the beautiful mastermind whom no one can get around, let alone fathom. She has a mission, it seems — which the reader divines before Jacob does — and which explains the profusion of deaths. That the mission attempts to strike a blow for justice helps some.

More importantly, Rachel provides the overriding sense of the novel, the confusion, uncertainty, and danger infusing the very air of the story. Just when Jacob believes that he sees how the wheels turn, he realizes that there are wheels within wheels. At best, he’s a minor cog, one that may intersect with a larger, more significant mechanism, but only as long as he’s useful. When pursuing a lead based on information given him, he never knows whether his informant has hidden motives or means him ill. This atmosphere of fear and uncertainty feels pervasive, as in Hitchcock, and the ever-present reversals apply the framework. But the workings are entirely psychological.

The last two turns of the wheel feel a little contrived, the only ones that do. Nevertheless, Gallows Court delivers a tense, wild ride, and if the ending seems a bit contrived, it’s also satisfying. ( )