Blind Justice (William Monk Series #19)

( 26 )

Overview

NATIONAL BESTSELLER

For a generation, Anne Perry’s New York Times bestselling novels have invited readers to explore the brilliantly seductive heart of Victorian London, where great wealth and great evil live side by side, and great men sometimes make unfortunate choices.
 
In Perry’s stunning new novel, Hester Monk, the wife of William Monk, commander of the Thames River Police, questions the finances of...

See more details below
Hardcover
$19.72
BN.com price
(Save 24%)$26.00 List Price

Pick Up In Store

Reserve and pick up in 60 minutes at your local store

Other sellers (Hardcover)
  • All (34) from $1.99   
  • New (16) from $13.00   
  • Used (18) from $1.99   
Blind Justice: A William Monk Novel

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • NOOK HD/HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK Study
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook)
$13.99
BN.com price

Overview

NATIONAL BESTSELLER

For a generation, Anne Perry’s New York Times bestselling novels have invited readers to explore the brilliantly seductive heart of Victorian London, where great wealth and great evil live side by side, and great men sometimes make unfortunate choices.
 
In Perry’s stunning new novel, Hester Monk, the wife of William Monk, commander of the Thames River Police, questions the finances of a London church whose members’ hard-earned charitable gifts appear to have ended up in the pocket of charismatic preacher Abel Taft, paying for his fine home and the stylish outfits of his wife and daughters.
 
Taft is accused of extortion, and brilliant barrister Oliver Rathbone, newly appointed a judge, is chosen to preside over his trial. It seems clear that Taft is indeed guilty. However, at the last second, the defense produces a witness who completely undermines the charges. Then Rathbone makes a well-meaning but reckless move that could ruin his career, his reputation, and his life.
 
Blind Justice presents a rich and lively panorama of London life, from the teeming Thames docks to the wealthy West End, while unfolding a magnificent courtroom drama. And while justice, law, and morality hang in the balance, Hester and Monk race to save their distinguished friend Rathbone from disgrace. The incomparable art of Anne Perry grips us fast until the final, unforgettable scene.

Praise for Blind Justice
 
“A staggering achievement . . . Perry’s command of plot and prose shines.”Bookreporter
 
“Ranks among the best [Anne] Perry has written. Her courtroom scenes have the realism of Scott Turow.”Huntington News
 
“Gripping . . . Those who love Victorian England will relish Ms. Perry’s presentation of period details. Her mastery of this time and place gives credence to the characters’ moral and legal struggles.”New York Journal of Books
 
Praise for Anne Perry and her Wiliam Monk novels
 
A Sunless Sea
 
“Anne Perry’s Victorian mysteries are marvels.”The New York Times Book Review
 
Acceptable Loss
 
“Masterful storytelling and moving dialogue.”The Star-Ledger
 
Execution Dock
 
“[An] engrossing page-turner . . . There’s no one better at using words to paint a scene and then fill it with sounds and smells than Anne Perry.”The Boston Globe
 
Dark Assassin
 
“Brilliant . . . a page-turning thriller . . . blending compelling plotting with superbly realized human emotion and exquisite period detail.”—Jeffery Deaver, author of Edge
 
The Shifting Tide
 
“The mysterious and dangerous waterfront world of London’s ‘longest street,’ the Thames, comes to life.”—South Florida Sun-Sentinel

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Set in Victorian England, bestseller Perry’s entertaining, if flawed, 19th William Monk novel (after 2012’s A Sunless Sea) poses a complicated moral question. The Thames River policeman’s wife, Hester, can’t help wanting to assist Josephine Raleigh, a nurse who works with her at a clinic for prostitutes and is in despair over her father’s debt, since Hester’s own father killed himself when he was unable to meet his financial obligations. Hester is disturbed to learn that the senior Raleigh’s woes stem from being coerced into making donations he couldn’t afford to a suburban London church, whose leader, Abel Taft, is charged with fraud. A new judge, Sir Oliver Rathbone, a friend of the Monk’s, presides over the trial. The interesting ethical bind Rathbone finds himself facing could have been more sharply framed, and the resolution’s tidiness will be a minus for some. Agent: Donald Maass, Donald Maas Literary Agency. (Aug. 27)
From the Publisher
Praise for Blind Justice
 
“A staggering achievement . . . Perry’s command of plot and prose shines.”Bookreporter
 
“Ranks among the best [Anne] Perry has written. Her courtroom scenes have the realism of Scott Turow.”Huntington News
 
“Gripping . . . Those who love Victorian England will relish Ms. Perry’s presentation of period details. Her mastery of this time and place gives credence to the characters’ moral and legal struggles.”New York Journal of Books
 
Praise for Anne Perry and her Wiliam Monk novels
 
A Sunless Sea
 
“Anne Perry’s Victorian mysteries are marvels.”The New York Times Book Review
 
Acceptable Loss
 
“Masterful storytelling and moving dialogue.”The Star-Ledger
 
Execution Dock
 
“[An] engrossing page-turner . . . There’s no one better at using words to paint a scene and then fill it with sounds and smells than Anne Perry.”The Boston Globe
 
Dark Assassin
 
“Brilliant . . . a page-turning thriller . . . blending compelling plotting with superbly realized human emotion and exquisite period detail.”—Jeffery Deaver, author of Edge
 
The Shifting Tide
 
“The mysterious and dangerous waterfront world of London’s ‘longest street,’ the Thames, comes to life.”—South Florida Sun-Sentinel
Kirkus Reviews
2013-09-01
William Monk, of Queen Victoria's Thames River Police (A Sunless Sea, 2012, etc.), steps outside his bailiwick to rescue his friend Sir Oliver Rathbone from a dire fate. It all begins when Monk's wife, Hester, hears from Josephine Raleigh, one of her assistants at the clinic she runs in Portpool Lane, that Abel Taft has extracted so many donations to the poor from his Nonconformist congregants that some of them, including Josephine's father, John, are approaching destitution themselves. Brothel keeper–turned-bookkeeper Squeaky Robinson, pressed by Hester to investigate the Brothers of the Poor, soon reports that precious few of those donations are actually going to the poor, and Taft is promptly put on trial for fraud. Rathbone, newly appointed to the bench, is the presiding judge, and he soon realizes that the case isn't going nearly as well as it should. Under the expert questioning of Taft's barrister, Blair Gavinton, Brothers of the Poor steward Robertson Drew succeeds in making Taft's accusers, including Hester herself, look silly, intemperate or malicious. Suddenly, Rathbone realizes that he has a secret weapon against Drew: an extremely compromising photograph bequeathed to him by his malignant father-in-law, Arthur Ballinger (Execution Dock, 2009), that would utterly destroy Drew's reputation and render his testimony worthless. Should he share the photo with prosecutor Dillon Warne or keep it to himself? After much agonizing, Rathbone decides to share it--and then watches as a stunning development in the case leads to his own arrest for perverting the course of justice. Now it looks as if the imprisoned judge will either rot in jail or fall victim to one of the criminals he'd tried--unless of course Monk and Hester can somehow clear his name. Paring back on her usual period detail, Perry produces her fleetest tale in years. If the courtroom sequences are never exactly surprising, they're guaranteed to produce the deep satisfaction you feel after hearing a series of particularly rousing speeches.
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780345536709
  • Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 8/27/2013
  • Series: William Monk Series , #19
  • Pages: 352
  • Sales rank: 1,439
  • Product dimensions: 5.90 (w) x 9.10 (h) x 1.40 (d)

Meet the Author

Anne Perry

Anne Perry is the bestselling author of two acclaimed series set in Victorian England: the William Monk novels, including A Sunless Sea and Acceptable Loss, and the Charlotte and Thomas Pitt novels, including Midnight at Marble Arch and Dorchester Terrace. She is also the author of a series of five World War I novels, as well as eleven holiday novels, including the upcoming A Christmas Candle, and a historical novel, The Sheen on the Silk, set in the Ottoman Empire. Anne Perry lives in Scotland.

Biography

Born in London in October 1938, Anne Perry was plagued with health problems as a young child. So severe were her illnesses that at age eight she was sent to the Bahamas to live with family friends in the hopes that the warmer climate would improve her health. She returned to her family as a young teenager, but sickness and frequent moves had interrupted her formal education to the extent that she was finally forced to leave school altogether. With the encouragement of her supportive parents, she was able to "fill in the gaps" with voracious reading, and her lack of formal schooling has never held her back.

Although Perry held down many jobs—working at various times as a retail clerk, stewardess, limousine dispatcher, and insurance underwriter—the only thing she ever seriously wanted to do in life was to write. (In her '20s, she started putting together the first draft of Tathea, a fantasy that would not see print until 1999.) At the suggestion of her stepfather, she began writing mysteries set in Victorian London; and in 1979, one of her manuscripts was accepted for publication. The book was The Cater Street Hangman, an ingenious crime novel that introduced a clever, extremely untidy police inspector named Thomas Pitt. In this way an intriguing mystery series was born…along with a successful writing career.

In addition to the Thomas and Charlotte Pitt novels, Perry crafts darker, more layered Victorian mysteries around the character of London police detective William Monk, whose memory has been impaired by a coach accident. (Monk debuted in 1990's The Face of a Stranger.) She also writes historical novels set during the First World War (No Graves as Yet, Shoulder the Sky, etc.) and holiday-themed mysteries (A Christmas Journey, A Christmas Secret, etc), and her short stories have been included in several anthologies.

Good To Know

Some fun and fascinating outtakes from our interview with Anne Perry:

The first time I made any money telling a story I was four and a half years old—golden hair, blue eyes, a pink smocked dress, and neat little socks and shoes. I walked home from school (it was safe then) with my lunchtime sixpence unspent. A large boy, perhaps 12 or 13, stopped me. He was carrying a stick and threatened to hit me if I didn't give him my sixpence. I told him a long, sad story about how poor we were—no food at home, not even enough money for shoes! He gave me his half crown—five times sixpence! It's appalling! I didn't think of it as lying, just escaping with my sixpence. How on earth he could have believed me I have no idea. Perhaps that is the knack of a good story—let your imagination go wild, pile on the emotions—believe it yourself, evidence to the contrary be damned. I am not really proud of that particular example!

I used to live next door to people who had a tame dove. They had rescued it when it broke its wing. The wing healed, but it never learned to fly again. I used to walk a mile or so around the village with the dove. Its little legs were only an inch or two long, so it got tired, then it would ride on my head. Naturally I talked to it. It was a very nice bird. I got some funny looks. Strangers even asked me if I knew there was a bird on my head! Who the heck did they think I was talking to? Of course I knew there was a bird on my head. I'm not stupid—just a writer, and entitled to be a little different. I'm also English, so that gives me a second excuse!

On the other hand I'm not totally scatty. I like maths, and I used to love quadratic equations. One of the most exciting things that happened to me was when someone explained non-Euclidean geometry to me, and I suddenly saw the infinite possibilities in lateral thinking! How could I have been so blind before?

Here are some things I like—and one thing I don't:

  • I love wild places, beech trees, bluebell woods, light on water—whether the light is sunlight, moonlight, or lamplight; and whether the water is ocean, rain, snow, river, mist, or even a puddle.

  • I love the setting sun in autumn over the cornstooks.

  • I love to eat raspberries, pink grapefruit, crusty bread dipped in olive oil.

  • I love gardens where you seem to walk from "room to room," with rambling roses and vines climbing into the trees and sudden vistas when you turn corners.

  • I love white swans and the wild geese flying overhead.

  • I dislike rigidity, prejudice, ill-temper, and perhaps above all, self-righteousness.

  • I love laughter, mercy, courage, hope. I think that probably makes me pretty much like most people. But that isn't bad.
  • Read More Show Less
      1. Also Known As:
        Juliet Hulme
      2. Hometown:
        Portmahomack, Ross-shire, U.K
      1. Date of Birth:
        October 28, 1938
      2. Place of Birth:
        Blackheath, London England

    Read an Excerpt

    chapter

    1

    Hester let the hansom cab pass, then crossed Portpool Lane and went in through the door to the clinic for sick and injured prostitutes.

    Ruby saw her and her scarred face lit up with welcome.

    “Is Miss Raleigh in?” Hester asked.

    Ruby’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, ma’am, but she don’t look right. I thought as she were ’andmade for the job, like, but this mornin’ you’d’a thought she’d got left at the altar. All weepin’ an’ can’t believe it, like.”

    Hester was stunned. When she had hired Josephine a few weeks earlier, the girl had said she was not courting and had no intention of giving up nursing in any imaginable future.

    “Where is she? Do you know?” she asked.

    “We got someone in all beat up, blood everywhere. She’ll be seein’ to ’er,” Ruby replied. “That were ’alf an hour ago, mind.”

    “Thank you.” Hester went through the far door and along the passageway, asking after Josephine each time she encountered someone. In the old pantry where they kept medical supplies she finally found her, moving between the shelves, counting and sorting. She was a pretty girl, perhaps too much character in her face to be conventionally beautiful. Now her cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes were blank, and her lips were pressed so tight the muscles were visible along her jaw and in her neck. It was clear that she did not even hear Hester come in.

    Hester closed the door to give them complete privacy before she spoke. As always, she was direct. Medicine, she had found, was not an art that allowed for much roundabout conversation.

    “What’s wrong?” she asked gently.

    Startled, Josephine swung round to face Hester. She was blinking rapidly as the uncontrolled tears slid down her face.

    “I’m sorry. I’ll . . . I’ll be all right in a moment.” She was clearly ashamed at being caught giving way to her distress, whatever it was.

    Hester put her hand ever so gently on Josephine’s arm. “Something must be very wrong for you to be so upset by it. You’ve seen terrible wounds and nursed the dying. Something that hurts you so much isn’t going to be dealt with in a few minutes. Tell me what it is.”

    Josephine shook her head. “You can’t help with this,” she answered, her voice choking in her throat. “I . . . I need to work. Really . . .”

    Hester did not loosen her grip.

    “There’s nothing that anyone can do,” Josephine repeated, still attempting to pull away.

    Hester hesitated. Would it be intrusive if she insisted? She liked this young woman on a deep, instinctive level; she reminded Hester of herself, years ago. And Hester knew exactly the pain and loneliness one felt when starting out in the profession. She had felt the overwhelming sense of helplessness that comes when witnessing the realities of physical agony and death, the moment when things go beyond anyone’s reach and all you can do is watch. All that, on top of the ordinary heartache of life and youth—it had been a difficult burden to bear when she was younger. Even now, at times.

    “Tell me anyway,” she said gently.

    Josephine hesitated, and then straightened herself with an effort. She swallowed hard and fished for a handkerchief to blow her nose.

    Hester waited, leaving the door closed. No one else could come in without a key.

    “My mother died a long time ago,” Josephine began. “My father and I have become very close.” She took a deep breath and tried to keep her voice level, almost emotionless, as if she were recounting figures in a calculation, something with no personal weight. “He has been going to a Nonconformist church for just over a year now. He found many friends among the congregation. He said there was a degree of warmth in it that appealed to him more than the ritual of the Church of England, which he found . . . cold.” She swallowed hard again.

    Hester did not interrupt. So far there was nothing odd, let alone disastrous, in what Josephine was saying. She hadn’t known Josephine long, but the girl did not strike her as the type to care exactly which religion her father followed, as long as it was broadly Christian, so that couldn’t be the cause of her distress.

    Josephine took another shaky breath. “He told me that they do a great deal of good work, both here in England and abroad. They need money to provide food, medicines, clothes, and so on, for those in desperate circumstances.” She searched Hester’s face for understanding.

    “It sounds a very Christian thing to do.” Hester filled in the silence. Then a thought occurred to her. “Oh dear—did your father discover that was not what they were using the money for?”

    Josephine looked startled. “Oh no! No, it wasn’t that. They just . . . they wanted so much! They pressured him for more and more. He is not a wealthy man, but he always speaks well, dresses well . . . if you know what I mean? Perhaps they thought he was wealthier than he is . . .”

    Hester began to understand where this might lead.

    Josephine was watching her intently now. Her voice wavered. “They kept on asking him, and he was embarrassed to decline. It isn’t easy to say you can’t afford any more, especially when they tell you people are starving, and you know that you can eat whenever you wish, even if it is a modest meal.”

    Hester looked at the pain in the young woman’s face, in her eyes, at the clenched hands gripping the handkerchief. She seemed frightened, embarrassed, and racked with sadness.

    “They pressed him into giving them much more than he could afford?” Hester asked quietly.

    Josephine nodded, her jaw clenched hard to help her control the emotion that welled up inside her.

    “Is the debt serious?” Hester continued.

    Josephine nodded again, the hopelessness clear in her face. She looked down, as if to avoid the condemnation she obviously expected to see in Hester’s eyes.

    Hester was overwhelmed by a sudden, wrenching memory of her own father, as she had seen him before she left for the Crimea, a dozen years ago, when this young woman was but a child. He had been so proud of her, seeing her off on a noble enterprise. She could smell the salt on the wind again, hear the gulls crying and the creak of ropes as the ship rose and fell, straining against its moorings.

    That was the last time she had ever seen him. The reasons for his falling into debt had been different than Mr. Raleigh’s reasons, even if they had also been tied to his compassion and sense of honor; but the pain his debt caused his family was the same. He too had been pressured and then cheated. The shame of it had caused him to take his own life. Hester had been away in the Crimea, nursing men she did not even know, and her family had faced that grief without her. Her mother had been almost unable to bear it and died shortly after the news of her second son’s death in the Crimea reached her.

    Hester had arrived home in England to face her one remaining brother’s bereavement and his fury that she had not been there when she was so badly needed, that she had spent her time and her pity on strangers instead.

    They were still distant, no more between them than the occasional exchange of Christmas cards, the odd stiff letter in formal language now and then.

    Hester understood sorrow, guilt, helplessness, and the lethal burden of debt more intimately than Josephine Raleigh could have imagined.

    She realized that Josephine was gazing at her now, confused. She felt foolish for drifting off into her own memories.

    “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I was thinking of someone I loved . . . someone who also suffered, in a similar way. I wasn’t able to help him because I was in the Crimea with the army. I didn’t come home until it was too late. How deep is your father’s debt?”

    “Very,” Josephine said quietly. “Much more than he can pay. I’ve given him everything I have, but it’s far too late. And I can’t earn enough to—” She stopped. There was no point in explaining what was so obvious.

    Hester’s mind raced, searching for something to say that might help; her painful memories still churned, the hopelessness, the despair of being too late to help, and the ache she still felt to turn back time and do everything differently. When she spoke her voice was husky. “I imagine these people ask every member of the congregation whom they think might have anything to give to donate?”

    Josephine gulped. “Yes . . . I . . . I think so.”

    Footsteps sounded in the passage outside, hesitated, then went on.

    “Well. Maybe there is something dishonest about the whole thing,” Hester said thoughtfully. “To pressure people that way isn’t . . . right . . . even if it’s not illegal. Maybe there was a reason. I don’t know. I will ask my husband. He is a police officer. There might be something we can do.”

    Josephine’s face filled with distress. “Oh no! Please don’t . . . my father would be mortified! The shame would be—” She gulped again and all but choked. “It would make him look as if he were . . . reluctant to have given charity to those in far more need than any of us. It would be—”

    “Josephine!” Hester said quickly, feeling the heat wash up her face. “Of course I wouldn’t reveal his name or his circumstances to anyone. I have no intention of being so clumsy. I am aware that would humiliate him.”

    Josephine shook her head. “You don’t understand—”

    “Yes I do,” Hester replied. She took a minute to weigh her next words before continuing. “The man I was thinking of a minute ago was my own father. I think the shame of what happened to him was what killed him. So I do understand. I shall look into this as far as I can, without mentioning any names, I promise you.”

    Josephine was still uncertain. “If he finds out, he will think I’ve betrayed him.”

    “He won’t know anything of it,” Hester promised again. “Don’t you think he would want to prevent others from suffering in the same way? And for that matter, I would be surprised if he is the only one of the congregation in this position. Wouldn’t you?”

    “I . . . I suppose so. But how will you do it?”

    “I don’t know yet. Perhaps I will have no clear idea until I try,” Hester admitted. “But if people are being forced into this position, it must be stopped.”

    Josephine gave a very slight smile. “Thank you.”

    Hester smiled back at her. “Where is this church, and what is the name of the man who leads it?”

    “Abel Taft is his name. The church is on the corner of Wilmington Square and Yardley Street,” Josephine replied, frowning. “But you live on the south side of the river, miles away! How will you explain going to a church up there?”

    Hester smiled more widely. “Their reputation for true and active Christianity, of course!” she replied sarcastically.

    Josephine laughed in spite of herself, and tears of gratitude filled her eyes. She shook herself abruptly, straightened her shoulders, and smoothed the skirt of the gray dress. “I have work to do,” she said more steadily. “I’m all behind myself.”

    There were times, especially in the winter, when William Monk found his duties as commander of the Thames River Police to be more arduous than usual. The knife-edge of ice on the wind across the open water could cut through almost anything, except oilskins. It whipped the flesh raw on exposed cheeks and froze the heavy cloth of trouser legs when the rain or the river water dampened them.

    But this late spring evening was balmy, and over the shining water arched a pale blue, almost cloudless sky. The breeze was welcome, the tide was high, and there were no naked banks exposed, which meant there was no dank smell of mud. Pleasure boats passed by with colored banners waving, laughter drifting toward the shore where a hurdy-gurdy played a popular song from the current music-hall shows. All the warm hope of summer lay ahead. It was a perfect time to be finishing a patrol on the river and thinking of going home.

    Monk had always managed a boat easily. It was one of the skills from his forgotten past, although his memory of how he acquired the ability had been obliterated by an injury in a carriage crash, just before he had first met Hester, nine years ago, in 1856. It always fascinated him that the mind could erase all sorts of things that the body seemed to recall.

    With ease he brought the police boat to the bottom of the dock steps, shipped the oars, and stepped out with the mooring rope in his hand. He tied it loosely so that later on the receding water would not strain it and walked up the steps to make his final report at the station.

    He spoke briefly with Orme, his second in command, made a last check of everything else, and half an hour later he was back on the water again—this time as passenger in a ferry as it approached the dock at Princes Stairs, on the south bank at Rotherhithe.

    He paid the fare and walked up the hill toward his home on Paradise Place, the panorama of the Pool of London behind him, black masts and cross spars against the fading sky, water still as polished silk.

    He found Hester in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove, and Scuff, the onetime mudlark they had adopted—or, more accurately who had adopted them—sitting hopefully at the table, waiting for supper. He had been more or less resident for nearly two years now and was beginning to take them rather more for granted, as if finally he had accepted that this was his home, that they would not suddenly change their minds and turn him out back onto the dockside.

    He had grown considerably since they had taken him in. There was a lot of difference between a half-starved boy of eleven—Scuff’s own estimate of his age, though they couldn’t confirm it—and a boy of thirteen, who eats at every possible opportunity, mealtimes or not. He was several inches taller and was beginning to appear less angular; he no longer looked as if a sharp twist would break his bones.

    He was also beginning to acquire a rather self-conscious dignity. Instead of unabashed pleasure, he now welcomed Monk with a grin, but remained seated, far too grown up to give away his emotions.

    Smiling to himself, Monk acknowledged Scuff equally casually and went over to Hester to give a much warmer and completely spontaneous greeting. They spoke of the day and its events. Scuff reported on his time at school, an experience that was only slowly becoming familiar to him. It had not been easy; he had always been able to count, and he knew the value of money to the farthing.

    Read More Show Less

    Customer Reviews

    Average Rating 4
    ( 26 )
    Rating Distribution

    5 Star

    (11)

    4 Star

    (10)

    3 Star

    (4)

    2 Star

    (1)

    1 Star

    (0)

    Your Rating:

    Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

    Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

    Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

    Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

    We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

    What to exclude from your review:

    Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

    Reviews should not contain any of the following:

    • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
    • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
    • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
    • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
    • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
    • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
    • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

    Reminder:

    • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
    • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
    • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
    Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

    Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

    Create a Pen Name

    Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

     
    Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

    Continue Anonymously
    See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 26 Customer Reviews
    • Anonymous

      Posted August 29, 2013

      I've read all the Pitt and Monk novels from the get-go, but my h

      I've read all the Pitt and Monk novels from the get-go, but my heart has always been a bigger fan of the Monk series. With that said, this is a solid entry but just okay in my book. Oliver Rathbone is one of my favorite characters in the series, and Blind Justice picks up after his early cases as a judge. After successfully maneuvering a fraud trial, he finds old ghosts continue to haunt in the form of the photographics he inhertied from his late father-in-law Arthur Ballinger. Whether to destroy the photos or use them in some form in the cause of justice plagues his mind as much as the memories of his dying marriage to Margaret Ballinger. For one thing, I'm weary of the story arc that's played out over the past three to four books and am ready for the characters to move on to new and different cases. What I do like about this book is that we have the opportunity to see inside Rathbone's thoughts more than previous books. I love how Perry perfectly captures the mental wanderings we all have when we're trying to figure out a problem or are distracted and also how Rathbone comes to a greater realization of what it's like to be on the opposite side of a courtroom (and the justice system). It's also the first time we get to hear Scuff's point of view through his thoughts. We can never go back to the days of Defend and Betray or A Dangerous Mourning, but the agonizing repetition of lines like "What are we going to do about it?", and Hester Monk's blind mercy (which sometimes isn't realistic) makes me nostalgic for the rougher, younger days of Monk wading through running gutters or dashing up stairs to interrogate suspects and witnesses. I kind of miss the stories in which a missing brooch had some significance. I'd like to see the characters get out of London again - maybe Monk could visit his sister in Northumberland and stumble upon a crime there. Could we have reappearances of some favorite barristers or private nursing patients from the past? Whatever happened to Charles and Imogen Latterly? Anything, please! WIth all that said, I still stayed up until 2am to finish the book. Like other reviews I've read on other sites, I guessed the guilty party(ies) early on. It wasn't a surprise. For Sir Oliver, I wish only the best and look forward to what Perry has in store for him next!

      4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted September 5, 2013

      Ex One of perrys best

      Cannot wait to see if this is owed up and find out what oliver wlll do next

      1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Posted December 14, 2013

      Highly recommended

      Excellent Court Room story.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted November 4, 2013

      !opyb,omi20qOk rs' u jvk.obyoxo


      !
      .xebo,zo
      M,qhw ,y y l
      L R
      AAQAX
      9
      Yt g hq h nk.
      Lr nl
      Dvz0.+(
      D E

      0 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted October 25, 2013

      A page turner. Well worth reading.

      Couldn't put this one down - not at all what I expected.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted October 25, 2013

      a little weak

      I have read all the books in this series and I love the characters - this addition is a little on the weak side. I didn't find the mystery very compelling and you know the main characters will triumph. Usually you think - "how will the author get them out of this situation?" but I could see the ending coming a mile away.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Posted October 18, 2013

      Marvelous

      Anne Perry is my very favorite author. She has written many wonderful and memorable series. Another can't put it down book.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted October 16, 2013

      Anne Perry has written another very good story.

      She has presented a situation that has many different moral positions. It shows very well the attitudes of victorian England. I am a huge fan of Anne Perry, but I did think the moralizing was a little too much. I know that's a trademark of her books, but this time it was rather heavy-handed.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted October 14, 2013

      Perry is one of my favorites - especially this genre.

      Certainly recommend. Great read, as always.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted October 4, 2013

      Highly recommend

      As always Anne Perry has done it again. Waiting for the next Monk and Pitt books!

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted October 1, 2013

      recommend for fans

      Because I like the characters I found it a good read. However, it wasn't her typical story. Also, unlike most of the novels, this one seems to have failed to develop some characters and their motivations very fully. So if you like Anne Perry and the Monk characters, you will probably enjoy it. If you are not yet a fan, this is not the place to begin.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted September 24, 2013

      ALWAYS LOVE ANN PERRY-ANOTHER GREAT NOVEL!

      ANOTHER HOME RUN FOR ANN PERRY

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Posted September 20, 2013

      Another good book in the long-running series.

      I'm hooked on the series! This one was a bit short, but long enough to cover the subject. After the outcome, I can't help but wonder what's in store for Sir Oliver!

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted September 20, 2013

      recommend very highly

      Love this author, her settings in Victorian London are so real, always interesting info with a nice twist to ending.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Posted September 20, 2013

      Good!

      As always it's a pleasure to read Ms. Perry's books. And, of course, wait for the next one.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Posted September 20, 2013

      Anne Perry never disappoints!

      Anne Perry's lyrical writing will again transport you to another time and have you thinking about what is and is not proper ethical behavior. Fortunately for the reader, her moral compass is always spot on. Bravo for another terrific mystery. Keep them coming Ms. Perry.

      Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
    • Anonymous

      Posted May 31, 2013

      No text was provided for this review.

    • Anonymous

      Posted August 31, 2013

      No text was provided for this review.

    • Anonymous

      Posted October 18, 2013

      No text was provided for this review.

    • Anonymous

      Posted September 20, 2013

      No text was provided for this review.

    See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 26 Customer Reviews

    If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
    Why is this product inappropriate?
    Comments (optional)