I’d call this book a decent but uneven addition to the ever-growing world of Sherlock Holmes pastiches. It’s one of those books where, depending on the story, you might either lean in with interest or start glancing at the clock. There are four stories in this collection, and for me, it broke down pretty cleanly: two were good, two were kind of forgettable.
Let’s start with what worked. The good stories really did capture that foggy, gaslamp-lit feeling of classic Holmes. Thomson has clearly spent time studying Conan Doyle’s style. The language is formal without being overly stuffy, and Watson’s voice is mostly consistent with what we expect. She doesn’t try to reinvent the character or force any modern quirks onto them, which I appreciated. When she’s in the zone, Thomson can build up a solid little mystery that pulls you along nicely. There were moments where I found myself nodding and thinking, “Okay, this does feel like a lost case Watson might have tucked away in a drawer.”
The first of the stronger stories had a solid hook and a satisfying little twist at the end. It wasn’t groundbreaking, but it was comfortably familiar in the way a good Sherlock story should be. The other standout one had a really clever setup — I won’t spoil it, but it involved some social dynamics and misdirection that felt very true to the spirit of Holmes’s world. Those two stories hit the right tone: clever enough to keep me curious, not too convoluted, and with enough atmosphere to feel immersed.
Now, on to the weaker half of the collection. The other two stories just didn’t do much for me. They weren’t bad exactly, but they lacked punch. The plots felt a little limp, and the resolutions were either too obvious or didn’t quite land. One of them took way too long to get moving, with pages of buildup that didn’t really pay off. The other felt more like a character sketch than a full story, and the mystery itself was pretty thin. I wasn’t mad at them, just kind of underwhelmed.
Another thing I noticed — and maybe this is just me being picky — is that the pacing in this collection felt uneven. Some scenes were drawn out more than they needed to be, while others rushed through key moments. It created this start-and-stop reading rhythm where I’d be really into one part and then feel like I was slogging through the next. I think some tighter editing might have helped the weaker stories feel more alive.
Tone-wise, Thomson plays it straight. There’s no tongue-in-cheek humor, no winks to the reader. It’s clear she has a lot of respect for the original material, and she’s not trying to modernize or twist it. I like that. If you’re someone who enjoys Holmes stories that stick close to the original formula, you’ll probably appreciate that consistency.
One thing I do want to praise is her attention to setting. She does a nice job with Victorian atmosphere — the foggy streets, the dimly lit sitting rooms, the rustle of carriages outside. Even in the less compelling stories, the world feels believable and lived-in, which helps anchor the stories in the right place and time.
So where does that leave me? I’d say this is a decent pick if you’re a Holmes fan who’s working your way through all the pastiches and wants something familiar and respectful of the source material.
It’s not a must-read, but it’s not a waste of time either. Call it a light snack in the world of Sherlock Holmes fiction — not a full meal, but satisfying enough if you’re hungry for a few more cases from Baker Street.