I cannot wait to return back from my business trip and dive into this one. It's part of the Beacon Hill Mystery series, and I haven't read this sort before, but I think I might like it, just based on the first few paragraphs of the book. What do you think?
Boston: The January thaw, 1892. A watery gloom hung over the city like a shroud.
Day after day of heavy, relentless rain had threatened to submerge the new-filled Back Bay, and the miniature lagoon in the Public Garden had overflowed its banks. On Beacon Hill, streams of water pounded the brick sidewalks and cascaded down the narrow streets, splashing women's voluminous skirts, splattering horses with mud up to their blinkers. People clung to their firesides, waiting for winter to return.
In the South End, Officer Joseph Flynn of the Boston police was making his rounds. he had been on the force for less than a year, and he was eager to do well in this job which until recently would not have been given to an Irishman like himself. When he saw the shape on the ground halfway down the alley behind West Brookline Street, he paused. Because it was night, and very dark in that district, he could not immediately tell what the shape was. A heap of refuse, he thought, or a pile of rags. Or, at worst, some drunken tramp from the nearby railroad yards.
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