The sixth of Brandreth's Oscar novels and it is arguably his best as not only has he once again produced an excellent murder mystery but convincingly conveys Wilde's despair as he serves his two year sentence for gross indecency.
At Pentonville prison Wilde is the subject of the malice of the sadistic Warder Braddle who dies in mysterious circumstances after visiting Wilde's cell. Moved to Reading he is then confronted by Braddle's younger brother an even nastier piece of work. The prisoner in the next cell, an Indian named Luck, attempts to blackmail Wilde over his acquaintance with a young boy prisoner while the prison doctor persuades the Govenor to allow him to investigate murders that the authorities would rather be written off as accidents.
The best part of this book in my opinion is not the murder mystery, good as that is, but Brandreth's description of the soul destroying prison regime and Wildes reaction to it. Wildes realisation of what his actions have done, not just to himself, but to his wife and sons is totaly believable. Brandreth has immersed himself in the work and character of his subject to such an extent that acceptance of the narrative as Wilde's own words is extended without demur. The book ends with Wilde in exile in Dieppe and only a year or so to live. Does this mean that this is the last of these excellent books? Let us hope not!
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