I wanted to like this--the premise was interesting. But the writing and plotting are messy, with the writing changing in tone frequently in unnecessary and sometimes confusing ways, and the narrative being a bot long, often dull, and sometimes convoluted. The romance element read like it had been added in after the rest of the book was finished--it appeared here and there but never really got anywhere, and then popped up at the end as if it had been there all along. It was a slog to get through.

2.5 stars

**This book was provided to me by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for a fair and honest review.**

A detailed, methodical historical thriller for fans who wanted more ‘whodunnit’ in their Hilary Mantel.

There’s a lot to like in this book, particularly for those who love highly-researched historical fiction. Lloyd takes great care with his depiction of late-17th-century life, and he pays particular attention to the scientific thought and advances of that time period, which is fascinating. The post-civil-war politics of 17th century England are also integral to the plot, which will delight readers of more conventional historical fiction. The attention to details—names, places, and inventions of the time period—is meticulous.

As a thriller, however, the book is lackluster. The premise—young boys found drained completely of their blood—is great. However, the big mystery (how exactly the blood was drained) is solved almost immediately, so from there on it’s just a matter of figuring out who killed the boys and why, which is somewhat more usual of a puzzle. There are still plenty of twists and turns, but few that a reader can track or attempt to anticipate, which creates a much more passive experience than thrillers usually evoke; even moments of danger feel rather distant.

That lack of urgency is in part because our hero, Harry, is the biggest disappointment of the book. The Observator of the Royal Society, Harry is supposed to be the precursor to a modern crime-scene investigator, someone who can piece together the evidence to understand not only what happened but why and how. The problem is, Harry has no real personality. He has no real ambition, no real personal history, no real vices or foils, no real virtues. He’s quiet, he’s hardworking, he’s curious… but mainly he’s just kind of there. Harry is like an obliging doll for the author to move through his detailed scale model of 1678’s London, but he is in no way a compelling character, and as a reader I never feel anxiety or worry on his behalf. He’s just tough to care about.

In sum, this is an ambitious historical novel about the science and politics of late-18th-century London, burdened by a bland main character and a rather slow and stumbling mystery plot. The set pieces and side characters are wonderful, but the story itself does not compel.

The story hinges around the discovery of one young boy's body, surgically drained of blood, entrance wounds dated to imply multiple blood lettings. The milieu, London, the Age of Enlightenment (ironically, under clouds of coal smoke.) All the characters (and there are many) cough, choke, wheeze, spit, and etc., in varying degrees.

The boy is found, exsanguinated, (good word, that,) and enter the great scientists of the Royal Society, their assistants and mentees, authorities of London, and even the King Himself. Many more bodies are found, and the crimes are blamed on the Whore of Babylon - if not the Pope. Is it Catholic mischief, or science run amuck? More will be revealed.

All in all the book is a fascinated look at the period following England's civil war (Cromwell, et al,) and a (dare I say it?) illuminating view of the political and scientific establishments.

The fly in the ointment is the author's fondness for lists that supply little texture, and slow the reading - but, you can skip - especially after the second rendering. Harry Hunt, (ach, the aptronym) research assistant to Robert Hook, and jack of all trades, is the prime mover of the investigation, and finds himself in quite a few life threatening scrapes. He's slight, and as it's winter, encumbered with a hand-me-down full length leather coat that somehow doesn't hinder his working through the stunt-man's fx book. i.e., he leaps, spins, and whirls with the greatest of ease, and when that doesn't work MacGyver's his way out of danger. Strains belief, but...

Three stars (bordering on four) because I liked it, and might even read the sequel if it ever gets back into print.