It is 1824, and trust in the virtual money of the day – new paper financial instruments – is so fragile that anyone forging them is sent to the scaffold. So why would one of London’s most respected bankers start forging his clients’ signatures? Sent to arrest Henry Fauntleroy, Constable Samuel Plank is determined to find out why the banker has risked his reputation, his banking house and his neck – and why he is so determined to plead guilty. As the case makes its way through the Regency justice system, exercising the finest legal minds of their generation and dividing London society into the banker’s supporters and detractors, Plank races against time to find the answers that can save Fauntleroy’s life.
Reviews with the most likes.
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader along with a Q&A with the author.
---
But the theft of that which represents money—of pieces of paper that can be exchanged for money—well, there we have something new. Mr Fauntleroy is not accused of going into his bank’s vaults and taking money belonging to others, but of changing pieces of paper to make it look as though their money belonged to him. We police officers will have to learn new skills to catch such people.
WHAT'S FATAL FORGERY ABOUT?
It's 1824, and Henry Fauntleroy is one of the leading bankers of London—it's a smaller bank, but it has a stellar reputation. Fauntleroy is the son of one of the founders, and while he's an utter and complete cad in his personal life, he earned both his position and reputation—it wasn't handed to him.
But then evidence comes to light that he's been forging documents and moving large sums of money around in some sort of complicated scheme. He's determined to plead guilty and avoid a trial. While the winds of reform are blowing, this type of offense is a capital crime. Fauntleroy knows this and is still ready to plead guilty and accept the sentence.
At least one magistrate involved wants to make sure that the investigation is handled properly and there isn't a rush to judgment/punishment. Sam Plank is a constable that works for him and has the same concerns--he is the one who arrested Fauntleroy and becomes somewhat invested in the investigation and his welfare (beyond what's called for in his duties). Plank is convinced that everyone is missing something vital in this case, but he's struggling to see what it is.
Will he be able to put the pieces together in time to save Fauntleroy's life?
FINANCIAL CRIMES
I get the impression that the monetary system was in a time of transition at the time the book was set, and the kind of crime at the center of this book was a new thing that the legal system wasn't quite prepared for. Much like we might be today with cryptocurrencies and we're still trying to figure out how to effectively police identify theft-type crimes. I've lost track of the number of books that I've read this year that include a discourse on cryptocurrencies (and I have a book to start this week that will likely feature a few of them), so it was nice to walk into a book about financial crimes that was sure not to include one—but behind all this is the equivalent, which is thankfully much easier to understand.
Now, I'm not a complete dunderhead when it comes to finance and economics, but (in both real life and fiction) things don't have to get too detailed before my mind checks out. I was a little daunted about trying to understand 1820s banking in the first place—much less any kind of scheme involving defrauding it. But Grossey's depiction of it was easy to follow—she wrote it in such a way that you don't have to come in knowing the nuts and bolts* of the machinery to follow Fauntleroy's crimes
* Nor will you walk out knowing them—it easily could've become a Tom Clancy-deep dive into Nineteenth Century monetary systems.
MARTHA PLANK
I think that Sam's wife, Martha, is going to turn out to be one of those supporting characters that turns out to be one of the MVPs of the series. At first glance, she seems to be simply a nice, supporting wife, who understands her husband's moods better than he does—and understands that she'll take a backseat to his job (at least from time to time). But at one point, she takes the reins for a bit and gets more information out of a witness than Sam would've been able to—and with far less fuss and bother.
I'm not saying she'll become the asset that Marybeth Pickett is to Joe's investigations, but I wouldn't be surprised if it turns into something in the same vein.
SO, WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT FATAL FORGERY?
While Plank was clearly drawn to the case, trying to understand what made Fauntleroy ticked, and was disturbed by some of his non-financial crime activity, there isn't the same kind of emotional investment that characterizes so much of Police Procedural/Detective Fiction today. Part of that has to do with the era, I'm sure—Plank caring the way that Renée Ballard or Malcolm Fox does about a case would be unseemly. Still, he spends personal time on the case—even using a date with his wife as a pretense to go track down someone associated with Fauntleroy—and will later go to great lengths to wrap things up.
I liked that feel to the character, and think it serves to help establish the setting. But that might say more about my preconceptions about the time—and how it's been depicted in the fiction I've read.
I wondered if the setting—and the type of crime—would end up being a hurdle to reading and/or enjoying the book. But neither proved to be the case, I was pleased to see how easy it was to get into the book. And the pages just melted away when I got past the first chapter or so, which felt more like a speed bump than a learning curve. In the end, the setting and subject made this a very pleasant change of pace.
Fatal Forgery isn't the kind of thing that would catch my eye when I browse, and ultimately, not it's exactly my cup of tea--but I'm shooting to read at least one more in the series because I enjoyed this and am curious about what else can be done with the character (and I can see that easily turning into me reading all of them). I do know one reader who will likely burn through the whole series as soon as I give her the first one—if you're like her and a Regency-era police procedural with a minimal amount of violence piques your interest at all (even if it makes you mildly curious)—give this a try.
Originally posted at irresponsiblereader.com.