Raine Pyne
St. Jerome Writing Group (co-leader) and St. Thomas More Writing Group
It’s 1888, and the chilling event of the Whitechapel murders and atrocious crimes of serial killer Jack the Ripper are sending terror through London’s Victorian society. This historical backdrop is what distinguishes A Murderous Relation from the previous four books in Deanna Raybourn’s Veronica Speedwell mystery series. The impact of the Ripper murders on this story’s mystery creates a sense of danger and uncertainty that allows Raybourn to weave a story between those vulnerable to such threats and those who, mistakenly, thought they were not.
In A Murderous Relation, a particular member of the royal family recruits Veronica Speedwell and her partner Stoker to retrieve a significant identifying jewel from the questionable proprietress, Madame Aurore. Aurore runs a private, high-end club, and the tracing back of such a jewel to such a location would potentially cause a royal scandal. Furthermore, said jewel could implicate its giver, Prince Albert Victor, in the larger threat plaguing London: the Whitechapel murders. To solve the mystery that ensues, Veronica and Stoker must navigate royal relations, societal expectations, and human attractions. They are kept at the forefront of danger, and the reader is kept at the intersection of dynamics which both create and resolve conflict.
A Murderous Relation is told through Veronica Speedwell’s first-person narration, allowing the reader access to the mind of an independent and worldly female character who is motivated by her sense of adventure. Veronica’s astute but opinionated perspective drives the character interactions to be active and engaging. Her relationship with Stoker illustrates the complementarity of the feminine and the masculine: Stoker simply balances Veronica. Also of interest is Veronica’s developing relationship with two other strong female characters from the series: Lady Wellie, a wise and meddlesome elder dedicated to the royal family’s preservation, and JJ Butterworth, described as a gifted and audacious reporter and firebrand. Her encounters with these women capture the tension of ambition alongside mutual respect and how such shared similarities can provide the potential for a friendship. And though A Murderous Relation does feature strong female characters, male characters are neither underrepresented nor misrepresented.
The eccentricity of many of the characters contributes to lively and colorful scenes, creating an almost theatrical sense of play even when the topics at hand are heavy. In fact, A Murderous Relation opens with the Earl of Rosemorran, on whose estate Veronica and Stoker live, requesting Stoker to officiate the wedding of his beloved Patricia—a Galapagos tortoise. All in all, it is a refreshing and vibrant blend of personalities.
Veronica and Stoker are highly articulate natural scientists, and the story is filled with their intelligent banter and argument, scientific references, and intricate descriptions of specialized interests. For example, in the opening of chapter 4, the reader finds Veronica “penning a rousing rebuttal” to a criticism of her latest contribution to The Lepidopterist’s Quarterly Guide to South American Butterflies and Greater Moths, while Stoker is stuffing a hippopotamus that Veronica describes as “emitting an insalubrious fragrance.” Albeit verbose and obscure at times, their discourse injects humor and wit throughout the story.
Where A Murderous Relation may give readers pause is at the “home” of Madame Aurore. In order to retrieve the jewel in question, Veronica and Stoker must attend a masquerade ball at Madame Aurore’s establishment. She welcomes the disguised sleuths with a disclaimer: “I suppose I ought to point out that this is not, strictly speaking, a brothel . . .” Continuing, Madame Aurore explains, “My house is open to people who understand what they desire. . . . Things you never imagined possible in the light become desirable in the dark.” And here is where Veronica and Stoker, along with the reader, are led into a show of sorts, as hosted by the enigmatic Madame Aurore, to consider the things some do find desirable in the dark.
The scenes that follow may feel disreputable enough for certain readers to turn down this book. However, the story’s purpose is not to stoke up lust in its reader. So, while the protagonists do not rush through the darkness of Madame Aurore’s house since many of the mystery’s complexities are planted there, they do avoid graphic descriptions of its “entertainment.” Rather, their narration moves the reader through the scenes like scientists describing their specimen. Such objectivity, along with Veronica and Stoker’s Victorian decorum, allows the topic of sexual activity to be attended to but not indulged in.
Readers who have followed Veronica from book one into the present installment should be pleased to catch glimpses of her confronting her own heart: “The room was a riot of color and music and glamour, and for just this moment, I permitted myself to surrender to it. When the dance was finished, I should remind myself that we were there with a purpose, tasked with the impossible, and in danger of exposure. But not this moment, I told myself.” Unfortunately, fans may also find themselves impatient at times, as previous developing substories are interrupted to accommodate this book’s distinct narrative thread. This thread, however, is what makes A Murderous Relation an appealing standout in the series.
Because the serial murders in the Whitehouse neighborhood are juxtaposed with the mystery at Madame Aurore’s home, an opportunity is provided early on for A Murderous Relation to establish that the female victims of the violent and dehumanizing murders of Jack the Ripper will not be treated as an anonymous part of a historical setting. Neither will they be simply catalogued and dismissed as prostitutes. Lady Wellie introduces this thread when she corrects Stoker for referring to the murderer’s victims as prostitutes. In their defense, she tells him, “None of them has been a true professional,” a reference to how the Victorian times defined such work. “Does it make a difference?” Veronica asks. Without pause, Lady Wellie replies, “I imagine it does to them.”
The refrain is repeated in the story’s public arena by the firebrand JJ Butterworth. With her journalist pen, Butterworth counters the media’s current narrative in order to tell the victims’ stories, describe their lives, and call them by name. Veronica and Stoker then subtly collect this thread of dignity and carry it into the twists and turns of their story.
Overall, if readers are willing to confront tricky aspects of human behavior, such as the darker side of desire and distortions of the sensual, A Murderous Relation offers both an entertaining and a thoughtful read. Furthermore, it filters a revealing light on contrasts between classes: those for whom sexual activity can be indulged in like a carnival show and those surviving on the margins of society whose circumstances make utilizing the body as a commodity seem like the only solution. Readers inclined to deeper contemplation might even be nudged to move beyond the book into history’s archives and explore the mystery of the dynamics shaping such contrasts. Or, then again, maybe they will just sit back and enjoy watching how mysteries collide.