The genre which leasts holds my attention is the mystery/who-dun-it. But Karen recommended this book, saying the evocative period atmosphere and surprising Jewish content made this mystery unusually rewarding.
I’m about half way done with the book and Karen is, of course, right.
“1905, London. As a young constable, Sam Wyndham is on his usual East London beat when he comes across an old flame, Bessie Drummond, attacked in the streets. The next day, when Bessie is found brutally beaten in her own room, locked from the inside, Wyndham promises to get to the bottom of her murder. But the case will cost the young constable more than he ever imagined.
“1922, India. Leaving Calcutta, Captain Sam Wyndham heads for the hills of Assam, to the ashram of a sainted monk where he hopes to conquer his opium addiction. But when he arrives, he sees a ghost from his life in London—a man thought to be long dead, a man Wyndham hoped he would never see again. Wyndham knows he must call his friend and colleague Sergeant Banerjee for help. He is certain this figure from his past isn’t here by coincidence. He is here for revenge . . .”
Reading a period piece calls for a period wrist watch. This 1942 Hamilton was given to me by my father, z’l. As a small child I would frequently sit on his lap, he would put the watch to my ear, and I would listen intently to the tick-tock, time marching along. I treasure this watch more than any other in my collection, though I rarely wear it for fear of damaging the movement. But every once in a while—usually on Shabbat—I strap it on my wrist and feel, well, connected to the gears of the universe and my father’s spirit.
Beautiful.