At the start of British author Southey’s excellent second mystery set in 18th-century Newcastle (after 2007’s Broken Harmony
), harpsichordist Charles Patterson, newly dumped as city musical director, is teetering on the verge of starvation when cantankerous organ builder William Bairstowe makes him an offer he can’t refuse—to discover the source of threats against Bairstowe’s life. The plot, as intricate as a fugue, intriguingly counterpoints Patterson’s detection of mayhem and murder with his unresolvable attraction to his wealthy and flagrantly breeches-wearing music student, Esther Jerdoun, aged 38 to his 26. The book’s major appeal, like Hogarth’s, lies in realistic but wickedly pointed characterizations and the convincing evocation of the sounds and stink of a preindustrial city. Southey deserves an encore for this ingenious satire of a society as full as ours of nefarious predators—and for her bittersweet sympathy for the underdog. (Jan.)
