[In the following excerpt, Dickinson complains of the obvious ending and difficult to believe plot of Perry's The Silent Cry.]

… Anne Perry's novels of Victorian England are prominent on the list of historical mysteries, a rapidly growing niche within the genre that some of us find a bit hard to take. Nevertheless, the best of the bunch deserve the attention of all mystery lovers. The Silent Cry, alas, is not among the best.

Perry's 1996 novel Pentecost Alley was one of the weaker nominees for an Edgar this year. The Silent Cry, though less turgid, also suffers from major flaws that only Perry's biggest fans will be willing to overlook.

When the bodies of respected solicitor Leighton Duff and his barely breathing son Rhys are discovered, kicked and beaten, in a slum street, mystery surrounds not only the assaults but why the duo were in Water Lane in the first place. Police detective John Evan does his best to trace their trail, but it's not until William Monk, no longer on the force but working privately, looks into the murders of several prostitutes that the story takes shape.

Meanwhile, the compellingly dark Monk pursues his personal demons, piecing together the life he lost when an accident wiped out his memory.

Despite some forceful characters, the novel demands disbelief when the conscientious inquiries of Evan turn up few clues, while Monk cracks the case by following much the same path and methods. Perry stretches the reader's patience again in casting the villains in the piece. She never convinces us they're nasty enough or wily enough for the double life they've supposedly been leading. Finally, the ending is at least partially obvious as early as the second chapter.

One reviewer has accused Perry of exploiting the past. Perhaps the inherent problem faced by a writer attempting to mine Victorian England is that Dickens already did it, and very well indeed….