I've found myself frustrated with what I perceive to be a lack of women as leads in detective fiction. We have Amelia Peabody, daring Egyptologist who scales sand dunes and eschews social expectations with equal aplomb. We have Phryne Fisher, sharp-witted flapper and amateur sleuth who doesn't let anyone tell her what's what. These are fine women who get the job done, but I wanted someone more relatable. Enter Mary Russell.
The Mary Russell series, beautifully written by Laurie R. King, caught my attention some years ago, when a professor assigned "O Jerusalem" for my mystery class. I loved her from the first few chapters of that book and have been following her ever since.
Ms. King's latest book (and the 14th book) in the series is "The Murder of Mary Russell."
As a longtime fan of the series, the title of this book came as an immense shock, and I spent most of my time reading it coiled and waiting for absolute disaster.
Mary Russell, professional theologist, amateur sleuth and wife to Mr. Sherlock Holmes, is alone at her cottage in Sussex one day when her doorbell rings. It is a man, a stranger, who spends several unnecessary minutes speaking pleasantly with her. The longer the conversation continues, the more uneasy Russell feels. When the man claims to be the son of her long-suffering and trusted housekeeper, Mrs. Hudson, Russell fears he must be mistaken. Then he pulls his gun, and Russell finds, despite herself, that she believes him. A gunshot, a pool of blood, and she is gone.
Holmes, struck with grief at the disappearance and apparent murder of his young wife, must use every bit of his talents and experience to uncover the truth of one Mrs. Clara Hudson and unbury the secrets she has long kept at bay.
Sparkling with intrigue, clever characters and two incredibly strong, capable women, I believe "The Murder of Mary Russell" (and the rest of the series) will add some much-needed female detectives to the "to be read" pile.
Megan Mehmert is the teen programming associate at Missouri River Regional Library.