Review: "A Study in Revenge," Kieran Shields

By Paul Carrier

In this newly published sequel to The Truth of All Things, Deputy Marshal Archie Lean of the Portland, Maine, police is reunited with private investigator Perceval Grey in 1893 as they try to solve the murder of small-time crook Frank Cosgrove, who was gunned down while en route to deliver a stolen, mysteriously marked stone.

The case quickly takes on bizarre overtones when someone digs up Cosgrove’s corpse, transports it to an abandoned building in Portland, sets portions of the body on fire and writes “Hell Awaits” on a door, with a drawing of a devilish face.

When the investigation prompts Lean and Grey to search out Chester Sears, Cosgrove’s underworld pal, the lead takes them to Boston. There, Sears falls to his death from a roof after Grey catches him ripping pages from an obscure library book about supposed Viking settlements in New England.

All of which should be baffling enough to keep any detective running in circles for a while, but Grey, who is part Abenaki Indian, has to divide his time between this case and his search for Madeline Webster, the missing granddaughter of deceased Portland businessman Horace Webster. Is the young woman’s disappearance tied to the theft of a strange “thunderstone” that the Webster family has long treasured . . . the same exotic heirloom that Cosgrove was carrying at the time of his death?

The stolen stone is at the heart of the novel because of its obscure history, baffling symbols and unexplained significance. Is it a mystical source of power? A coded guide to hidden treasure? A hoax created by a long-dead member of the Webster family? An ancient artifact that rightfully belongs to the Abenaki Indians? Or something else entirely?

A word to the wise: don’t grab A Study in Revenge unless you’re a real history buff. Not only is this mystery set in the late 19th century, but author Kieran Shields takes occasional detours down alleys filled with references to alchemy, the occult, the Rosicrucians and the so-called philosopher’s stone.

That’s in addition to tidbits about the real or fanciful North American travels of the Vikings, the legendary city of Norumbega, Portland’s fate during the American Revolution and a battle that occurred off the coast of Maine during the War of 1812.

Still, the reader who patiently negotiates these byways is rewarded once the complex plot resumes its normally brisk pace.

In an essay that appeared on readitforward.com, Shields explained that he decided to write a sequel to The Truth of All Things because he “wasn’t ready to part company” with the characters he introduced in that book.

“Every book is a separate little journey that we take because we want to see where it leads. But alongside that desire to discover something new is a competing force, the pull of the familiar, that urge to search for a familiar face in a crowd, even when you’re in a strange new place. As intriguing as it is to start down a new road, it can feel all the richer for knowing that you’ll see old friends along the way.”

The Watson-like Lean and the Sherlockian Grey are well-drawn characters. Grey, in particular, has more than his share of adventures involving escapades of both the life-threatening and romantic varieties. Shields does a good job of keeping the reader guessing about the baffling thunderstone, Cosgrove’s murder and Madeline Webster’s disappearance, until he finally pulls the strands together.

A Study in Revenge can be read as a stand-alone, but with recurring characters and periodic references to story elements from the earlier novel, readers will find this one more enjoyable if they first read The Truth of All Things. The latest novel’s closing pages make it all but certain that a third book is in the offing, so you might as well start at the beginning.

Review: "The Truth of All Things," Kieran Shields

By Paul Carrier

Portland, Maine, 1892. On the bicentennial of the 1692 Salem witch trials in Massachusetts, a prostitute is gruesomely murdered and mutilated in a ritualistic attack, raising the curtain on Kieran Shields’ gothic mystery The Truth of All Things.

Maggie Keene is found in a machine shop, her half-naked body laid out like a pentagram. She has been pinned to the ground with a pitchfork. A cross-like mark has been slashed on her chest. And her right hand is missing.

Deputy Marshal Archie Lean spots a message at the scene written in what later proves to be the language of the Abenaki Indians. It translates as “thy kingdom come” from the Lord’s Prayer. But Perceval Grey, a half-Abenaki criminalist and former Pinkerton agent who is called in, doubts that the killer is an Indian, as the search begins for a murderer who has killed before and may plan to kill again.

This brooding novel, with its occult overtones, has a fine Sherlockian feel. Grey’s precise speech, condescending attitude, keen intellect and analytical bent conjure up comparisons to Arthur Conan Doyle's creation.

“Everything that can be observed offers the opportunity to draw conclusions as to what must have occurred previously,” Grey tells Lean after Grey displays a particularly brilliant piece of deductive reasoning. But Grey needs, and accepts, the assistance of others. Lean’s instincts and street smarts, coupled with the research know-how of Portland historian Helen Prescott, buttress Grey's skills as the investigation progresses.

In a 2012 interview with mainecrimewriters.com, Shields said he initially envisioned telling the story “almost entirely from Lean’s point of view. As the book progressed, Grey forced his way forward to the point where I actually contemplated whether Lean was even necessary to the story. Of course he was necessary, as was Helen Prescott, who also insisted on injecting herself further into the book. In the end, I think they all settled into place nicely and it’s the interactions among them that I enjoyed writing the most.”

As time passes, the investigation suggests a link between the murder and the Salem witch trials, which were partially rooted in Maine.

Seventeenth-century Indian attacks against frontier settlements in Maine reinforced Puritan fears of the devil and his supposed Indian servants, especially because some Mainers who had escaped Indian attacks had relocated to Salem and environs before the hysteria broke out there. (Historian Mary Beth Norton examines these ties in her 2003 book, In the Devil’s Snare.) George Burroughs, a 17th-century minister and accused witch who spent time in both Maine and Massachusetts, figures prominently in the novel.

"I liked the trials as an historical back story because most people have some familiarity, or at least spooky associations, with Salem. But not many readers would have an in-depth knowledge of all the weird details and elements of those tragic events," Shields said in that interview with mainecrimewriters.com.

"I chose 1892 since my original plot outline was tied to the anniversary of the 1692 witch trials, so I looked at the bicentennial year," Shields said. "That period had a lot of appeal in terms of the gothic feel of the age, being a period when gruesome murders  (e.g., Jack the Ripper, Lizzie Borden, and H.H. Holmes at the Chicago World’s Fair) were coming into the public consciousness . . . ."

A Portland native with an obvious interest in history, Shields presents the geography of that city in convincing detail, with a sharp eye for points of reference that will please readers familiar with Maine's largest city. One prominent landmark, in particular, plays a key role in Shields’ tale.

It’s a credit to the author’s skill that even when the case appears to have been solved, that denouement is exposed as a novelist’s ruse. The reader is in for more plot-twisting shocks as this complex story races toward a breathtaking, and very satisfying, resolution.