Historical Fiction Archives

Skelton’s Guide to Suitcase Murders by David Stafford is a cozy historical murder mystery set in 1920s England and based loosely on a real case. Although it’s the second title in the series (preceded by Skelton’s Guide to Domestic Poisons), audiences can enjoy it without reading the first. Known for his propensity to win hopeless cases, Suitcase Murders follows barrister Arthur Skelton as he sets out to defend Dr. Ibrahim Aziz, who’s been accused of murdering his wife and packing away her remains inside a discarded suitcase. Armed only with a quirky array of characters and unconventional etymological forensic evidence, he’s got his work cut out for him to prove his client’s innocence and prevent a British-Egyptian diplomatic scandal.

Book cover for Skelton's Guide to Suitcase Murders by David Stafford.

Foreigners, unless they conformed to one of the acceptable stereotypes, rarely played well with juries.
David Stafford, Skelton’s Guide to Suitcase Murders

Despite the grisly details of the murder, Stafford’s whimsical voice and clever prose immediately set a light, easy tone. Skelton and Edgar, his long-suffering clerk, spend much of their time traveling to and from locations in their quaint little town to meet clients and discuss their findings, resulting in many memorable, hilarious exchanges. Their familiarity with one another also leads to several frank conversations about racism and international relations in post-World War I England. Stafford demonstrates a clear awareness of the problems with the rise of the British Empire while still portraying likable characters living within a system defined by it. On several occasions, Skelton must come to terms with strategies that work in favor of his European clients but simply won’t do for Dr. Aziz, regardless of his innocence.

Skelton’s role as a barrister is an interesting choice since most mysteries feature professional or amateur investigators solely focused on solving a single mystery. Skelton, however, juggles many cases over the course of the novel—the titular suitcase murder almost completely forgotten at certain points. It’s difficult not to view this as a flaw since readers are primed to parse through the text for clues about Dr. Aziz’s case only. Furthermore, Skelton’s role as a lawyer also means he seldom takes an active role in the investigation; clues seem to fall into his lap, and he receives conveniently relevant correspondence from friends precisely when he needs it. It is only in retrospect that readers can make sense of the various cases, letters, and acquaintances scattered throughout Suitcase Murders, but the process of getting there is tedious for those unaware of this reward waiting at the end of the novel.

Perhaps the ‘criminal mastermind’ was as much a myth as the ‘fair trial.’ Something we like to believe in because it makes the world a more comfortable place in which to live. The myth that there are good people and bad people. And bad people aren’t like ‘us.’
David Stafford, Skelton’s Guide to Suitcase Murders

While Skelton and Edgar are jovial and sweet with their bumbling ways, the diverse cast of female characters is the true highlight in Suitcase Murders. From Skelton’s wife Mila, who teaches archery and fancies flying a plane to Africa, to Rose, a bright young lady training to be a lawyer, to Phyllis Pitt, a positively ghastly woman who revels in causing trouble, Skelton manages to showcase a robust cast of women who anchor the story to the minutiae of everyday life. I only wish Stafford had included a similarly nuanced portrayal of Dr. Aziz and his Egyptian heritage. Unfortunately, readers never learn more than the fact that he’s Egyptian.

A charming, surprisingly funny murder mystery romp with memorable characters and dialogue, Skelton’s Guide to Suitcase Murders is perfect for unwinding after a long day. It’s a quick, engaging read, and the inviting setting of a quaint English town will draw readers in and leave them excited to visit again for Skelton’s next great adventure.

Thank you to NetGalley and Allison & Busby for sharing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling is a horror story built on a foundation of traditional gothic elements. The novel opens with Jane Shoringfield, a pragmatic and mathematically gifted woman who negotiates her own marriage of convenience to Dr. Augustine Lawrence to ensure her continued security and independence. The good doctor only has one request—that Jane spends her nights in a room above his surgery, and he in his labyrinthine home at Lindridge Hall. But that’s easier said than done, and Jane finds herself in Lindridge Hall on her wedding night, where she quickly discovers her new husband is hiding disturbing secrets about his past. That’s only the beginning of her troubles.

Book cover for The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling

She wanted Augustine to be who she’d thought he was. That man would not have lied. That man would have confided in her.
Caitlin Starling, The Death of Jane Lawrence

A problem solver by nature, Jane is doggedly determined to save her husband from the vagaries of his eerie family home, even as they become more and more unexplainable. Regardless, she persists, and it is her resolve that makes her relatable if not likable. The most interesting part of Jane’s character arc is the way she questions her own monstrousness from the very beginning. At first, it’s because she fears she’s focused too heavily on logic over emotion, but as the story progresses, Jane succumbs many times to emotional whims, and interestingly enough, it is only then she becomes unrecognizable. Was she a monster before? Or is The Death of Jane Lawrence the origin story of the monster she becomes?

Starling’s use of magic as a metaphysical concept that challenges Jane’s logical and orderly view of the world is fascinating. As Jane methodically deconstructs and revises what she knows to be true, readers settle into an understanding of how magic is meant to function in Starling’s novel. Particularly creative is Starling’s use of the concept of zero as “everything and nothing,” which serves as the backbone for her depiction of magic. However, I wish Starling had done more to explain the greater role magic plays in her fictional world and why physicians, in particular, practice it. Perhaps it’s meant to parallel the arguably god-like role they take in attempting to cure or reverse injuries and illnesses. Even so, considering Jane manages to learn magic, surely physicians aren’t the only ones who practice. How common is magic in this world? It’s difficult to tell, given Jane’s humble upbringing.

Zero…an empty nothingness, but a nothingness that went on forever, for nothing could have no bounds. The infinite and zero were one. Except that the infinite was the greatest thing in the world, and zero was nothing at all. They were opposite. They were the same.
Caitlin Starling, the Death of Jane Lawrence

Starling’s prose is melodramatic and overwrought, which at first does wonders to establish the picturesque scenery of a gloomy little town in an alternate version of post-war England. However, this strength becomes a weakness during the second half of the novel, where it often feels as though readers could skip pages at a time without losing a sense of the overall plot. The extremely redundant nature of the seven-day spell Jane casts at one point was particularly tedious to read. In general, the prose is beautiful, the details unsettling and gruesome and delightfully spooky, but they’re truly unnecessary after a certain point. Kill your darlings, as they say.

The final “revelation,” which occurs in one particular chapter near the end of the novel, closes the loop with regards to several plot points that seem misleading or arbitrary until readers are plunged into that chapter. It is deeply satisfying…until the novel just keeps going! The Death of Jane Lawrence would’ve been so much spookier if everything had ended right after the revelation. I almost thought that’s where it all ended until I turned the page! Nevertheless, the actual ending is unsettling in its own right. In proper gothic fashion, readers reach the conclusion and wonder how much of it was real and whether the supernatural elements can or should be rationalized. That’s one of my favorite elements in gothic literature, and Starling executes it so well.

A magician gets what she asks for, whether she meant to ask for it or not.
Caitlin Starling, The Death of Jane Lawrence

The Death of Jane Lawrence is a creative take on gothic literature and boasts some of the creepiest scares I’ve seen recently in a novel, especially towards the beginning, when suspense is at an all-time high. I couldn’t walk past reflective surfaces at night for nearly a week without fretting a little! However, the dense prose and excessive, rambling explanations to validate the pseudo-science behind the magic only disorients the reader and makes the second half of the story drag. Despite my misgivings, it is worth checking out if you enjoyed Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Mexican Gothic, yet another novel that puts a modern spin on the horror-gothic mash-up with a deliciously slow and suspenseful exploration of the uncanny, or other familiar gothic stories like Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Fall of the House of Usher,” Edith Wharton’s “The Lady’s Maid’s Bell,” or Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw.

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for sharing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Tag: Historical Fiction

Skelton’s Guide to Suitcase Murders by David Stafford

The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling

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