moon-over-soho

London is dancing to a darker tune…

“It’s a sad fact of modern life that if you drive long enough, sooner or later you must leave London behind.”

It’s always a risk when you spend a long time away from a series. I read Rivers of London back in 2015, and at the time felt something was missing but over time I have found myself looking back with fondness at it. Clever and funny, it’s the very book I would want to write, but never quite as well. Several people told me it had a lot in common with my novel, although I’d never be so bold to claim they are of similar quality. Anyway, while my fondness for it increased, it turned out that when I started this one, I had forgotten rather a lot about the actual details of the plot. Whoops. Never mind, we soldier on and find ourselves now in the underbelly of Soho.

Peter Grant is a constable in the Metropolitan Police, and also a trainee wizard. Following on from the disastrous results of his last case, his closest colleagues are all recovering from spell damage, so he seems to be working alone. When two more bodies are found, men with their genitals bitten off and laying in a pool of their own blood, Peter and his boss Thomas Nightingale are called in to assist given that this is probably more their area.

Elsewhere, it becomes apparently that jazz musicians all over Soho are dropping dead after gigs with an efficient regularity. The only link seems to be their music, but Peter is no expert on jazz. Fortunately he knows someone who is – Richard “Lord” Grant, Peter’s father. Meanwhile, Peter has found himself smitten with a groupie called Simone, who has an insatiable appetite for sex … and possibly for something else too.

Once I’d untangled all the threads from the last novel (I’d remembered that had happened in the very last chapter of the first book, which at the time seemed like a throwaway epilogue but becomes very important here), I found myself enjoying the book. Aaronovitch writes with ease and charm, and Peter Grant is a wonderfully enjoyable protagonist. The jokes come think and fast, but are tempered with some truly graphic scenes of body horror.

Grant aside, there are some great characters here, too. Nightingale and Peter’s colleague Lesley both seem to take a back seat given that they’re dealing with the fallout from the first book, so we get to spend more time with some others. I particularly like Miriam Stephanopoulos, a no-nonsense lesbian who runs the murder team and seems to have a grudging respect and fondness for Peter. Although she seems tough, there are also moments where it’s quite clear that she likes him, and the development of their relationship is really rather joyful. Peter’s parents are also great fun, and Peter’s sex-obsessed girlfriend Simone reminds me of someone I once knew, but that’s a whole other story.

While I enjoyed it, the book is very clearly part of a series now, and so there seems to be little in the way of a resolution. There’s a nice ending, with a smart cliffhanger, sure, but there are so many details that have yet to be explored and a lot of questions that require answers, so with any luck they’ll turn up in the third book. I’ll try not to leave it so long this time.

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