Second half of an inset duology, where Sherlock Holmes and wife face the threat lurking behind recent familial turmoil.

A disappointment. Look, I enjoy these books as transformative works, and as mysteries (which is rare for me). This installment was not a mystery, it was a thriller, with all expected stupid POV tricks and general limpness. There was actually one of those awful sections where we’re supposed to believe Russell is unknowingly knocking on the villain’s door with a dramatic chapter break and switch to villain POV, only to discover pages and pages later that they were at separate addresses. I mean, really? This is not what I read about Sherlock Holmes for, thanks.

This book also shuffled the emotionally engaging plot thread – Irene Adler’s son – almost entirely offstage and replaced him with your standard issue cardboard creepy villain POV while our heroes wander around trying to figure out who he is. Yawn. I don’t read thrillers for many reasons, and this book demonstrates about seven of them.

Positive: Russell contemplating imminent arrest and wondering if they let you have books in prison. Oh Russell, I love you.