He rushed out, leaving me alone with my misgivings. At lunchtime he returned but did not eaty, a sure sign that he was engaged upon some stimulating line of enquiry. I had seen him so often like this before. He put me in mind of a foxhound, running upon breast-high scent, for just as an animal will devote it's entire being to one activity, so could he allow events to absorb him to the extent that even the most basic human needs — food, water, sleep — could be set aside." The party (Holmes, Watson, Lestrade) makes its way to the "House of Silk", a club operated by a pastor and his wife who also govern a boy's orphanage, and rent the boys to wealthy customers. The members are promptly rounded up by Scotland Yard. Despite their arrests, however, the case does not come to trial, due to a royal family member having been purportedly involved. It is eventually revealed that Mrs. Carstairs is the true person responsible for The Flat Cap case, being the second leader of the Irish gang. My introduction to was the audiobook, Magpie Murders, which I really loved. I'm thrilled to report that this didn't disappoint in any way. As in Magpie Murders, there are some cleaver twists involved in this book and it's one of the things that I love about this talented author. A frustrating novel--Horowitz gets the style mostly right, and the plot moves at a nonstop clip, but the mystery itself is disappointing. From the very beginning, I had an inkling of where the story was going, lessening both the suspense and the emotional impact that the novel could generate. While there were some clever twists along the way--Holmes' time in prison, for example--even in these examples it felt as if Horowitz was simply reacting to other plots rather than coming up with something new. To be fair, referencing other plots is the novel's strength; the connections to Doyle's stories come fast and furious. But I kept waiting for a transcendent moment when the novel would take Doyle's detective to the next level...and it didn't really come.

The plot is also very much in the tradition. It starts with a smaller story and the tentacles of the mystery spread out to create a far wider tale with grave implications for welfare of the nation.And tell me, Mr. Horowitz did, never once losing my attention whilst he spoke... I was in an automatic sort of, sensual overdrive, throughout. Inspector Lestrade arrives to investigate the case, but - true to form - he misses all the important clues and goes haring off in the wrong direction. Emphatically, yes. The characters are, as Conan Doyle himself would have them, as close to cliché as good writing allows. Horowitz's Watson cleverly excuses himself right at the start from any complaints about style or content by reminding us of Holmes's oft-stated judgment of the stories: "He accused me more than once of vulgar romanticism, and thought me no better than any Grub Street scribbler." We must take them on their own terms, then: Mr Carstairs, the troubled dealer in fine art, who is being watched by a mysterious stranger in a flat cap with a "livid scar on his right cheek". Carstairs's wife, the mysterious foreign adventuress. Cornelius Stillman, the bumptious American millionaire. The dastardly Boston Irish gang, led by the ruthless O'Donaghue twins. The madwoman in the attic. The creepy reverend who runs a home for boys. The big set-pieces: the train robbery; the escape from prison; the freak show; the high-speed horse-drawn carriage chase.

Almost unwillingly, Holmes and Watson find themselves being drawn ever deeper into an international conspiracy connected to the teeming criminal underworld of Boston, the gaslit streets of London, opium dens and much, much more. And as they dig, they begin to hear the whispered phrase-the House of Silk-a mysterious entity that connects the highest levels of government to the deepest depths of criminality. Holmes begins to fear that he has uncovered a conspiracy that threatens to tear apart the very fabric of society.And what a story it is. Dark, disturbing, with what first appears to be parallel plots running through it. Until both plot lines meet near the end. When Holmes makes inroads with the House of Silk case, he is framed for murder and sent to prison. Meanwhile, Watson meets with a mystery criminal, later revealed as Professor Moriarty, who provides him with a key to free Holmes from prison, before the detective can be assassinated. Professor Moriarty's motives are uncertain, except that he wishes Holmes to rid the world of the House of Silk, whose activities apparently appall even him. When Watson arrives at the prison, he discovers Holmes has escaped of his own accord, disguised as an aide to the prison doctor, whom he had once helped as a client. Various leads draw them to a travelling funfair, where they are ambushed, before being saved by Lestrade. However Horrowitz has pulled it off beautifully. I always thought of him as being a children's author as my son used to read the Alex Rider series, but it would appear that Horrowitz writes for TV, film and adult audiences. He is a what one could term a professional author, able to turn his hand to most forms of writing.