Charles Todd
A Test of Wills (1996)
Inspector Ian Rutledge has returned from the Great War a far different man than when he left Scotland Yard for the Army. He returned to England suffering from shell shock and only with after a great effort was he able to return to Scotland Yard.
Unfortunately for him, he is given first case in hopes it will break him.
Colonel Harris has been brutally murdered–part of his head all but blown off by a shotgun blast. Mixed up in the case are Harris’ young and beautiful ward Lettice, the man engaged to marry Lettice, Captain Mark Wilton, and a possible witness whose word is none too sound.
I quite enjoyed A Test of Wills. I’m a fan of historical mysteries, and although I haven’t read much fiction set in the WWI era, I did like the setting, and thought it was a nice setting–we have some modern technology–but much is not in a form we are used to (for instance the car engines you have to hand crank to start.)
There are also allusions to the important events of the time, including the flu pandemic that was so deadly.
But we also have the tail end of the Victorian era, with “proper” women and wards and sensibilities that would be gone by WWII.
I also liked Rutledge’s personal demons, and his battle to remain functioning and sane amidst a case to which he was sent to be broken. It was interesting to see his history unfold as well, and just how the war broke him and continued to try to destroy him long after he was home.
There was one thing that bothered me, and that was how part of the solution seemed to come from out of nowhere. I quite literally had to re-read two pages at least three times before I could figure out what was going on. Yes, things made sense after I parsed it out, but it felt like it came from left field.
It wasn’t necessarily unrealistic mind you, I just couldn’t quite see where it came from, given the what we’d been told. (In other words, the resolution came as much of a shock to Rutledge as it did to me.)
Surprisingly, it wasn’t enough to turn me off the story at all, and after the holidays I’m going to look for more books in this series.
Rating: 7/10
Wings of Fire (1998)
Wow. Just like the first book, A Test of Wills, the second book, Wings of Fire was also quite depressing.
Which leads to me to wonder: why am I surprised that a murder mystery is depressing? After all, the very premise of a murder mystery is that someone has developed such hate, or is so lacking in compassion, they take the life of another–or the lives of several others. There’s not much there to be cheerful about when it comes right down to it.
Which leads to the question: what is so different about Charles Todd’s mysteries about Ian Rutledge that make them so dark?
Rutledge is a very dark character. He came out of The Great War diagnosed with shell shock. As in the first book we continue to learn about Rutledge’s war experience and how it shaped the man he is now.
Of course that darkness, that slow recovery is what makes him so compelling. How fragile does he remain? How far can he bend before he breaks? Is he ever going to truly recover? How much can he take of his situation?
And that is why despite the darkness I have found these mysteries so compelling. Even if I have no desire to read them one after another, I still want to know what happens to Rutledge.
So what did happen to Rutledge in this book? He’s discovered that Chief Superintendent Bowles has no good will towards him, which is why he’s sent to Cornwall to appease the Home Office and a member of the upper class, who are suspicious that three recent deaths–two suicides and an accidental death–may be more than they seem. Bowles thinks this is a dead end case, and so sends Rutledge to Cornwall so he won’t make a name for himself in the current case that’s absorbing Scotland Yard.
Although you should be able to read Wings of Fire without having read A Test of Wills, since the mysteries are not related, I think you’ll be missing out on the continuing unfolding of Rutledge’s past.
Rating: 8/10
Inspector Ian Rutledge: A Test of Wills (1996), Wings of Fire (1998)
