The Poisoner’s Ring, by Kelley Armstrong

Because I’m a contrary so-and-so, it took me a couple of years after publication to finally read Kelley Armstrong’s A Rip Through Time. I tore through it two weeks ago, and when I saw that this one was on sale, I snapped it up.

Beware: racism; misogyny; domestic abuse; alcoholism; claustrophobia.

The Poisoner’s Ring, by Kelley Armstrong

In this most excellent second installment of the Rip Through Time historical mysteries, it has been about a month since Mallory, a 21st Century Canadian detective, swapped bodies and time periods with Catriona, a conniving 19th Century Scottish maid. The dust from those events has not quite settled, as her relationship with Dr Duncan Gray, her employer, is still somewhat strained.

Until–oh joy, oh rapture!–he asks Mallory to join him and his friend, Detective Hugh McCreadie, in an investigation into a series of poisonings. The fly in the ointment? The good doctor wants Mallory to keep the matter a secret from his sister Isla–which won’t do at all. However, as Isla is from home at present, visiting her mother in Europe, the two strike a deal: Mallory will help with the case now, and tell everything about it to Isla later.

Here’s how the publisher sets up the novel:

Edinburgh, 1869: Modern-day homicide detective Mallory Atkinson is adjusting to her new life in Victorian Scotland. Her employers know she’s not housemaid Catriona Mitchell—even though Mallory is in Catriona’s body—and Mallory is now officially an undertaker’s assistant. Dr. Duncan Gray moonlights as a medical examiner, and their latest case hits close to home. Men are dropping dead from a powerful poison, and all signs point to the grieving widows… the latest of which is Gray’s oldest sister.

Poison is said to be a woman’s weapon, though Mallory has to wonder if it’s as simple as that. But she must tread carefully. Every move the household makes is being watched, and who knows where the investigation will lead.

The book is narrated in first person, present tense, by Mallory; she’s smart, self-aware, and funny, and there are plenty of laugh-out-loud moments throughout, that do not diminish the seriousness of of the situation. Her modern take on Victorian life is hilarious, with her snarky inner dialogue, but her social commentary of both past and present, while pointed, is measured rather than strident.

“Gray’s voice echoes as his boots clomp up the stairs. Those boots had better be clean. We’ve had a talk about some people walking in from the horseshit-laden streets and expecting other people to clean the floors behind them.” (Chapter 1)

Ms Armstrong manages to lay the background for both the characters and the series in clever ways; at no point does Mallory exposit. We get the most pressing facts concerning Mallory’s presence a good 150 years in the past in the first chapter, but the full background of the Gray household and family unfolds over several chapters. The arrangement between the doctor, Detective McCreadie and the incompetent and privileged police surgeon (equivalent to the medical examiner or city coroner), isn’t brought up until it’s relevant to the current story, and even then it’s efficiently summed up in under a page.

“Here’s where it gets weird. Okay, yes, it’s already weird.” (Chapter 9)

As the trio investigate a number of recent poisonings, the author integrates a lot of historical fact into the novel without slowing the narrative momentum. Because Mallory is a fairly well educated modern woman, she presumed she had a good grasp on the period–until she found herself actually living in it, and the reality showed her pretty quick just how little of the daily lives of Victorian people one can grasp from popular culture or even from reading classical stories written in the period.

From the correct order of dress for a woman in the Victorian era (socks and boots first, as bending down once that corset is on and the laces tightened is not easy), to the advantages of multiple petticoats over a crinoline cage (moar layers, moar warmth!), to the modern assumptions about cleanliness and body odor in a period when soap was expensive and “running water” was a relative term.

“In 1869 Edinburgh, houses like Gray’s have gas lighting. Great, right? So say anone who has never experienced Victorian-era gaslights. Oh, it’s a damn sight better than candles and oil lamps, which are also still with us, but the wavering, harsh illumination of gas means everything is lit wrong, and it’s always too much or too little.” (Chapter 6)

As with racial diversity, which is well documented in the whole of the United Kingdom during the period, the inclusion of a range of gender presentations and sexual identities, at a time modern popular culture presents as ultra moralistic, rigidly heterosexual, and monolithic, is one of the aspects of the story that will delight those of us who understand that human nature hasn’t really changed much over the centuries.

This doesn’t mean that racism, bigotry, misogyny, and a host of other societal ills are erased from the narrative; on the contrary, their reality is woven into the story, adding to the richness of the worldbuilding and the depth of characterization for even relatively minor secondary characters.

“I’m blathering, aren’t I? I’m trying to explain a concept that’s still difficult for me to accept–that I can’t do everything men do” “Because of men,” he says. “Presumably men are the danger in your time as well.” (Mallory and Duncan, chapter 20)

Which brings me to how Mallory’s circle of friends and acquaintances grows organically in this story; as she’s been in this time period for a number of weeks now, her world continues to expand, organically. And even though we only get Mallory’s point of view, there’s enough dialogue and action to render the other characters fully as people in their own right, with quirks and interests and life experiences, and who relate to Mallory and to each other according to those relationships.

It is particularly relevant that Mallory’s presence in 1860s Edinburgh is an anomaly that neither she nor the other characters who know about it forget; none of them can explain how it happened, whether it’s permanent or temporary, or how or when she may suddenly pop back to the 2020s–or what is happening in Mallory’s body while she’s in the past.

Her new friends, especially Isla and Duncan, would miss Mallory terribly; her modern sensibilities and intelligent mind make her uniquely suited to become both a colleague and a dear friend to both. Mallory herself is torn between her amazement and, let us be honest, delight in having found herself in this particular household during this period of history, with people who, due to their own upbringing and circumstances, can both accept and like her; and her anguish over what’s happening with her own family in present day Edinburgh–especially if narcissistic sociopath Catriona is inhabiting her body.

The melding of modern investigative techniques with the limitations of the period is very well done; Mallory is often surprised at how advanced science was already, from knowledge about fingerprints to poison identification, as contrasted with how little of that science was accepted or used by the police, or the courts for that matter.

Speaking of the courts, the author plays with one of the most frequent tropes of historical novels as it pertains to women–namely, the issue of legal personhood–as the question of property and money come up as motive for the poisonings.

“Coverture doesn’t apply in Scotland–coverture being the common-law practice that says once a woman marries, control over everything from her money to her basic rights goes to her husband. A married couple is legally one person, and that person is her husband.” (Chapter 2)

I am torn whether my favorite aspect of this book is the seamless integration of history in the narrative, the interpersonal relationships, the narrative voice, or the mystery. Because let me tell you, the mystery is so very well done; all the clues are there, and the latter ones are only obvious if you paid attention to the ones laid out much earlier in the story.

The Poisoner’s Ring gets a 9.25 out of 10