Tag: Susan Grossey

DETAILS:
Series: Cambridge Hardiman Mysteries, #1
Publication Date: August 21, 2023
Format: eARC
Length:274 pg.
Read Date: October 8, 2023

A Vocabulary Lesson and The Title

Let’s start with the word “Ostler”—what is that? It’s apparently a variant of hostler (which doesn’t help me at all), someone who tends to horses at an inn. Words like “archaic” show up when you look and various dictionaries.

Now, I have to wonder—why entitle your novel with an archaic term that many people aren’t going to be familiar with? There’s a certain charm to using a term like that with a historical mystery. Also, maybe the term is a bit more familiar to readers in the U.K. Still, it seems risky to me. Who’s going to be drawn to that?

Sure, Grossey knows her audience—so it’s probably a smart move. Also, for Grossey fans, they’re going to be drawn to her name rather than the book’s.

Let’s move along to the more important things:

What’s Ostler About?

Our titular Ostler is Gregory Hardiman, a veteran of the war against Napoleon and other things—he has some sort of obvious facial injury, and more than a few memories he’d rather not have. He didn’t return home when his time was up, but took up residence in Cambridge and started working as an Ostler. He has a way with horses that garners him (and the inn he works for) a great reputation.

He’s also a reader—a big one. He’s constantly trying to educate himself—he carries a notebook of words he’s trying to learn with him and is frequently updating it. This, as much as his injury, seems to mark him as an oddity, and endears him to some characters as much as it will the reader.

Anyway, a coworker is found killed and his widow wants answers. Too many people (particularly the officials) write his death off, but neither his widow or Hardiman are convinced. Haridman finds himself assuring her that he’ll get to the bottom of it. On the one hand, she’s desperate for answers, so she’ll take the help of anyone who takes her seriously. But I’m not sure why either of them think he’s the right man for the job.

Naturally, as this is the first of a series, he clearly is, but Hardiman doesn’t strike me as the best candidate at the beginning. He starts by looking into the brother of the dead man—he’s familiar with the outskirts of the law, and just seems shifty.

This leads Hardiman to some dealings with Clement College and officials there—he uncovers some shady dealings and earns the trust of the faculty. While continuing to look into the murder, he ends up taking on another investigation for the College.

Hardiman—and an interesting hodgepodge of allies—uncovers a lot more than he expected to. Including some dangerous men who aren’t intimidated by an ex-soldier.

As Historical Fiction

So, what I know about this time period in England—particularly about the way colleges functioned, life in Cambridge and its environs, and so on would fit on the back of a postage stamp. With room for a florid signature left over. So Grossey could’ve made everything up out of whole cloth and I’d buy it—worldbuilding worthy of Rothfuss, Martin, or Jemisin.

But I’m certain* that’s not what happened here. Grossey paints a detailed picture of life in the time, a robust set of characters from a variety of socio-economic classes and professions. It reeks of authenticity. I want to read whatever books come next in the series just so I learn more. I jokingly told Grossey that I felt like I should ask her for a reading list to understand the time/setting—and she volunteered to provide such a list, but I think I’m just going to let her spoon-feed me things as I spend more time with Hardiman.

* 98.7% certain, anyway. I feel like I should leave a little room for cynicism.

So, what did I think about Ostler?

This succeeds on multiple fronts—as a mystery, as a piece of historical fiction, as a showcase for a unique (and potentially fascinating, time will tell) protagonist, and as a series start. I don’t know that this book has it all (few do), but it certainly has enough to heartily recommend.

The story is compelling, the pacing isn’t quite what you’d want in a contemporary Crime Novel, but it fits for the time—which isn’t to suggest it lags at all. You really do want to spend more time with most of these characters again (including most of them on the wrong side of the law)—few more so than Hardiman. The circumstances in his life undergo a significant change by the end of this book, and I’m eager to see how he adapts to them (his life seems to be a series of adaptations already, he’ll do fine).

As a slice of early 19th-century life, I found it most intriguing, and I wager most who at least dabble in historical fiction will as well. As with her Sam Plank series, Grossey is able to bring things to life in a way that gets even the uninformed 21st-century reader to see things and to immerse yourself in the period.

Give this one a shot—at least one thing in this book will appeal to you, probably several.

Disclaimer: I was provided with a copy of this book by the author in exchange for this post and my honest opinion.

3.5 Stars

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A Few Quick Questions with…Susan Grossey

By HCNewton

On September 13, 2022

In A Few Quick Questions With...

I talked about the first of Susan Grossey’s Sam Plank mysteries, Fatal Forgery earlier today. Grossey was kind enough to take part in a Q&A with me, too. I really enjoyed these responses and hope you do to, and hopefully they make you inclined to check out the book.

Your website talks a little about your background and how you got into focusing on financial crime professionally—how did you get from writing Non-Fiction about it to writing Fiction about it?
Like most bookish people—and those who study English at university—I had always harbored dreams of writing a story book. In my professional life I wrote many technical books on the subject of money laundering and financial crime, and one day I came across a short account of a banker who had stolen all the money from his own bank and then inexplicably confessed to it quite readily. I started writing a straight biography of him, but then decided that fictionalizing it would be more fun—and that became, after many false starts and different iterations, “Fatal Forgery”. And once I’d written one fiction book, I found I couldn’t stop! It’s the temptation of hiding from the world in a fictional environment that I can control…

I don’t want to ask “where do you get your ideas?” But out of all the ideas floating around in your head, how did you latch on to Regency-era Financial Crimes? Can you talk a little about the decision to make this a series instead of just one novel?
Once I had come across the story of Henry Fauntleroy, I started to research his era more closely. And I found that the late Regency—the 1820s specifically—was a time of great upheaval in two arenas that fascinate me: finance and policing. In finance, paper money had just been introduced, and much as we today are having to come to terms with cryptocurrencies, people in the 1820s had to learn to trust paper money instead of weighty coins, where you had value in the actual metal. And stories of rogue bankers didn’t help! And in London—a growing city with escalating rates of crime—thoughts were turning to improving policing. Everyone has heard of the Bow Street Runners (founded in 1749) and their work tackling crime, but having men who are paid bounties according to who they arrest brings certain problems. In 1829, the world’s first organized police force—the Metropolitan Police—was created in London. Between the two, London had a system of “magistrates’ constables”—and Sam Plank, the narrator of my series, is one of these. As far as I have found, there are no other novels with a magistrates’ constable as the hero!

As for the series decision, it was actually Sam’s idea. When I first wrote “Fatal Forgery” I wrote it from the point of view of the banker, but it didn’t really come alive. As an experiment I tried a couple of chapters with the arresting constable telling the story, and it just leapt off the page. And I am afraid that by the time I finished I was hopelessly in love with Sam and couldn’t face saying goodbye. Just one more Sam book, I thought—as the first one was set in 1824, I’ll do one for 1825. And then Sam suggested that it would be logical to see what he would make of the arrival of the Met Police in 1829, and so I needed to write a book for each intervening year…

I have zero previous knowledge of the criminal justice system in this era of English history, but I really never felt too lost during this case. How did you approach weaving just enough information into the book to keep it authentic (or at least relatively authentic) without turning this into an information dump?
I am a research addict—I would happily spend the rest of my life in archives and libraries! But I once read a review of a book (sadly, now forgotten) which said, “The author wears his research lightly”. And this is what I strive for. I try to drop in just enough information for the reader to feel oriented, but not so much that it’s like reading a history book. I like to think that I hold all the information in the background, so that if a reader said to me, ah that’s interesting, but what would have happened in this instance, or where did that street actually go to, I would have the answer. I like the reader to feel that they can trust that I have done the research on their behalf and am sharing with them only the bits they actually need. And you should see my research files—they are ENORMOUS!

Who are some of your major influences? (whether or not you think those influences can be seen in your work—you know they’re there)
At the formative age of about twelve, I discovered that the “Poldark” stories I had loved on television were in fact books – and lots of them! I read them at a gulp, and I think my preference for historical series (rather than standalone books) started there, with author Winston Grahame and his dashing Cap’n Ross. In more mature years, I admire the historical writing skills of Antonia Fraser and CJ Sansom. And for sheer volume and sticking at it, there are few to beat Agatha Christie, Catherine Cookson and Barbara Cartland—all women, as it happens. When I am feeling lazy, I gee myself up with thoughts of their astonishing output: 66 novels for Agatha, 104 for Catherine and an unbelievable 723 for Barbara!

Is there a genre that you particularly enjoy reading, but could never write? Or are you primarily a mystery/suspense/thriller reader when you’re not doing Financial Research?
For relaxation, I enjoy what are sometimes disparagingly called “Aga sagas”—slice of life family dramas by authors like Joanna Trollope and Maeve Binchy. I could never write them myself, as I am childfree and know very little about that sort of family life, but perhaps that’s why I enjoy learning about it. I actually read very little in the crime/thriller genre as I am rather squeamish and frankly have had enough of nasty things being done to women, which seems to be a trope these days. I do like more gentle whodunnits, but have no interest at all in gore, torture or psychological horrors.

I’ve often heard that writers, or artists in general, will forget hundreds of positive reviews but always remember the negative—what’s the worst thing that someone’s said about one of your books, and has it altered your approach to future books?
I don’t know whether I’m lucky or mercifully forgetful, but I honestly can’t remember a poor review. Someone once gave me one star on Amazon because “Amazon always asks for reviews too soon and I haven’t even started this book”, which was rather annoying – but it was no reflection on the book. After about book two in the Sam Plank series, a couple of readers asked for “more Martha” (she’s Sam’s wife) and so the later books have given them just that, albeit within what would have been realistic for a working class, uneducated woman in the 1820s.

This year you released the seventh and final book in this series. What’s next for your fiction?
I am already knee-deep in research for my new series, and have written about six chapters. I just can’t leave the 1820s so we’re still there, but this time we’re in Cambridge (my hometown) and our narrator is a university constable called Gregory Hardiman. There will be five books, each—again—with financial crime at its heart. It’s interesting knowing from the outset that this will be a series, as I’m allowing myself to wallow in the research (it will pay dividends down the line) and also I’m choosing my characters carefully as I know I’ll have to live with them for a long time! So far, Gregory’s friends include a coroner and an innkeeper, so we’ll see both life and death in action. I’m hoping that “Gregory 1” (with a much better title) will be out in spring 2023.

Thanks for your time—and thanks for Fatal Forgery and for introducing me to Sam Plank!

Fatal Forgery by Susan Grossey: A New Type of Crime Calls for a New Type of Investigator

By HCNewton

On September 13, 2022

In Fiction, Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller

I’ve got a Q&A with the author coming up in a little bit, be sure to check back later for that.

Fatal Forgery

by Susan Grossey

DETAILS:
Series: Sam Plank Mysteries, #1
Publication Date: December 17, 2018
Format: Kindle Edition
Length: 282 pg.
Read Date: September 3-5, 2022

But the theft of that which represents money—of pieces of paper that can be exchanged for money—well, there we have something new. Mr Fauntleroy is not accused of going into his bank’s vaults and taking money belonging to others, but of changing pieces of paper to make it look as though their money belonged to him. We police officers will have to learn new skills to catch such people.

What’s Fatal Forgery About?

It’s 1824, and Henry Fauntleroy is one of the leading bankers of London—it’s a smaller bank, but it has a stellar reputation. Fauntleroy is the son of one of the founders, and while he’s an utter and complete cad in his personal life, he earned both his position and reputation—it wasn’t handed to him.

But then evidence comes to light that he’s been forging documents and moving large sums of money around in some sort of complicated scheme. He’s determined to plead guilty and avoid a trial. While the winds of reform are blowing, this type of offense is a capital crime. Fauntleroy knows this and is still ready to plead guilty and accept the sentence.

At least one magistrate involved wants to make sure that the investigation is handled properly and there isn’t a rush to judgment/punishment. Sam Plank is a constable that works for him and has the same concerns–he is the one who arrested Fauntleroy and becomes somewhat invested in the investigation and his welfare (beyond what’s called for in his duties). Plank is convinced that everyone is missing something vital in this case, but he’s struggling to see what it is.

Will he be able to put the pieces together in time to save Fauntleroy’s life?

Financial Crimes

I get the impression that the monetary system was in a time of transition at the time the book was set, and the kind of crime at the center of this book was a new thing that the legal system wasn’t quite prepared for. Much like we might be today with cryptocurrencies and we’re still trying to figure out how to effectively police identify theft-type crimes. I’ve lost track of the number of books that I’ve read this year that include a discourse on cryptocurrencies (and I have a book to start this week that will likely feature a few of them), so it was nice to walk into a book about financial crimes that was sure not to include one—but behind all this is the equivalent, which is thankfully much easier to understand.

Now, I’m not a complete dunderhead when it comes to finance and economics, but (in both real life and fiction) things don’t have to get too detailed before my mind checks out. I was a little daunted about trying to understand 1820s banking in the first place—much less any kind of scheme involving defrauding it. But Grossey’s depiction of it was easy to follow—she wrote it in such a way that you don’t have to come in knowing the nuts and bolts* of the machinery to follow Fauntleroy’s crimes

* Nor will you walk out knowing them—it easily could’ve become a Tom Clancy-deep dive into Nineteenth Century monetary systems.

Martha Plank

I think that Sam’s wife, Martha, is going to turn out to be one of those supporting characters that turns out to be one of the MVPs of the series. At first glance, she seems to be simply a nice, supporting wife, who understands her husband’s moods better than he does—and understands that she’ll take a backseat to his job (at least from time to time). But at one point, she takes the reins for a bit and gets more information out of a witness than Sam would’ve been able to—and with far less fuss and bother.

I’m not saying she’ll become the asset that Marybeth Pickett is to Joe’s investigations, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns into something in the same vein.

So, what did I think about Fatal Forgery?

While Plank was clearly drawn to the case, trying to understand what made Fauntleroy ticked, and was disturbed by some of his non-financial crime activity, there isn’t the same kind of emotional investment that characterizes so much of Police Procedural/Detective Fiction today. Part of that has to do with the era, I’m sure—Plank caring the way that Renée Ballard or Malcolm Fox does about a case would be unseemly. Still, he spends personal time on the case—even using a date with his wife as a pretense to go track down someone associated with Fauntleroy–and will later go to great lengths to wrap things up.

I liked that feel to the character, and think it serves to help establish the setting. But that might say more about my preconceptions about the time—and how it’s been depicted in the fiction I’ve read.

I wondered if the setting—and the type of crime—would end up being a hurdle to reading and/or enjoying the book. But neither proved to be the case, I was pleased to see how easy it was to get into the book. And the pages just melted away when I got past the first chapter or so, which felt more like a speed bump than a learning curve. In the end, the setting and subject made this a very pleasant change of pace.

Fatal Forgery isn’t the kind of thing that would catch my eye when I browse, and ultimately, not it’s exactly my cup of tea–but I’m shooting to read at least one more in the series because I enjoyed this and am curious about what else can be done with the character (and I can see that easily turning into me reading all of them). I do know one reader who will likely burn through the whole series as soon as I give her the first one—if you’re like her and a Regency-era police procedural with a minimal amount of violence piques your interest at all (even if it makes you mildly curious)—give this a try.

Disclaimer: I received this book from the author in exchange for this post and my honest opinion.