Thanks to Alex, Rosie and the whole team at Pen & Sword for providing me a paperback copy of this book that I freely chose to review.

I was fascinated by this book and by the way it is told. The case itself cannot compare to some of the sophisticated cases we read about in mysteries and thrillers, complex and full of twist and turns. A shopkeeper, widowed, that lived with her dog, and sold a bit of everything, appeared murdered on a Monday morning, next to the body of her dog. There was blood everywhere, she’d evidently been hit on the head, possibly with a weight that was found close to the body, and there was money missing. People had been at her shop on Saturday evening and one of her neighbours had heard some strange noises in the early hours of Sunday, but that was it. This was 1919, and, of course, forensics were not as advanced as they are now, but there was an investigation of sorts, although, surprisingly, in the first instance the local police decided it had been an accident. When the new police chief revised the case, he was not so convinced, and called on Scotland Yard for assistance. They sent Detective Chief P. S. Wensley, who had been involved (although only marginally) in the investigation of the Jack the Ripper murders and would become pretty well-known for the Houndsditch murders and the siege of Sidney Street. Unfortunately, two weeks had passed since the original crime he was sent to investigate, the body had been buried, and the evidence had not been well-looked after, but still… He and his team investigated and put together a case against an Irish immigrant who’d fought the war. And, well, the rest is history (and you’ll have to read it yourselves).

Despite, or perhaps because, of the somewhat ‘simple’ murder, the book is a fascinating read. The author explains his reasons for choosing to tell this story, to recover the case of a fairly anonymous woman, and to do it in this particular way, pointing out that he did not intend to set off on a ‘cold-case’ type of investigation.  In his own words:

That is the beautiful thing about history; trying to show exactly what happened using original material and putting it in a contemporary social setting so that the reader can better understand and make sense of it all. I hope that the narrative has not only thrown light on policing in the early part of the century but portrayed it as a piece of history and not as retrospective critique. (Stickler,  2018, p. 145)

In my opinion, he succeeds. Stickler’s method, which consists in looking over the shoulder of the people who were investigating the murder and those who participated in the court case, showing us what they would have seen, and guessing at what they might have thought, while at the same time providing us historical background, so we are able to understand how the police force worked, and what the atmosphere was like in the country shortly after WWI, works very well. As we read the book we can’t help but think about what we would have done, worry about their mistakes, and wonder about the missing details and the conflicting witness statements and evidence. We learn about the social make-up of the town, the relationships between the different communities, the way the police force worked at the time, and we gain a good understanding of the legal issues as well, without having to read long and dry historical treatises. The writer has done a great deal of research and his skill as a writer is evidenced in the way he seamlessly creates an involving narrative that never calls undue attention to it. For the sake of completion, the author includes a commentary at the end, where he provides a postscript, as it were, with information about what happened to the protagonists, and also with his own speculations (that he had kept to himself until then) as to why things happened as they did.

I recommend this book to people who are interested in true crime, especially in Britain, Criminology and Criminal Justice System students, readers who enjoy historical police procedural novels, and also writers of the genre interested in researching the topic (the bibliography and the author notes will be of great help, and there are also pictures from the time provide a fuller understanding of the story). And, as I said, I also recommend checking the author’s blog to anybody interested in the topic.

A great book and a fabulous resource.

     I have previously read Douglas' The Anatomy of Motive, and it quickly became one of my favorites, so I simply had to get my hands on more Douglas. The true crime section of bookstores where I live is scant, but I got lucky visiting my grandparents in Texas and found The Cases that Haunt Us in a used bookstore (as well as approximately 15 other true crime books... oops). I brought The Cases that Haunt Us with me while on a trip to Boston, and it kept me company on plane, train, and subway alike. Overall, I would have to say it's a good read, but not Douglas' best work by a long shot.

     The book seemed mostly geared towards people who have a more passing interest in true crime. To be clear, I don't consider this a bad thing, but as a result sections of the book read as simplified to me. As someone who is very enthusiastic about the topic, the book was a little disappointing due to this; I wanted some more in-depth detailed analysis, a deeper dive into the evidence and connections.

     Many of the cases had evidence or theories that Douglas skipped over (Um, hello Burke Ramsey??), while the older cases (Jack the Ripper and Lizzie Bordon) were a little lackluster when it came to his overview of the crime/s. Of course, that is partially due to the age of the crimes, but there was still evidence that  This is contrasted with the newer crimes, however, as the overview of the cases went on for a little too long. Perhaps it is my own personal preferences (as the Lindbergh and JonBenet cases do not interest me) but the case summaries dragged on for far too long. 

     On the topic of the JonBenet Ramsey case, I honestly feel as though the entire chapter-- and case-- should have been cut from the book. This chapter was both the longest and the worst in the book. Not because it was bad writing, but due to Douglas' personal involvement with the case the chapter read as being somewhat biased (despite Douglas' insistence that his analysis was unbiased). He takes time to explain and defend his own actions and choices. While I appreciate his transparency, the earlier chapters had a draw the JonBenet chapter did not. They were unbiased analysis from an outsider's standpoint. This chapter read mostly as "This is why this guy's opinions on my opinions as to what I said are wrong, obviously, and also here is why I chose to do what I did on this case. Oh also Patsy definitely didn't do it". He also skipped over the theories of Burke's involvement completely, even though if he wanted to dismiss that theory it would be easy enough to do with his expertise. Perhaps it was cut because the chapter was too long, but it's absence weakened the chapter even further.

     This book is, overall, one that suffers from a balance issue. What analysis of the offender there is in the chapters is good, and Douglas clearly explains the connections between the crime scene and the offender's behavior. There could be more, though, so some of the explanations tend to be disappointing. For example, the chapter on Zodiac; interesting because of the nature of the case, interesting because of Douglas' analysis of the letters, and interesting because of the strategies to lure him out Douglas discusses, but overall disappointing due to the lack of a really in-depth dive. The chapter on the Zodiac is only 47 pages long. Some of the chapters-- like Zodiac-- are too short, others are, comparatively, too long. The final chapter-- in which Douglas offers an explanation as to why it is these cases that have so strongly entered the public conscious-- is disappointingly brief at only 5 pages, though he makes some good points.

As a true crime writer, Douglas is meh. As a behavioral analysis writer, he's amazing; his issue was that he leaned too heavily on the former rather than the latter for this book. His trademark transparency, respect for everyone involved in the case, and fair criticisms of the media and the handling of cases were present in this book, though, which are all features many true crime writers often miss out on.

      I probably wouldn't suggest this book to anyone who already knows quite a bit about these cases; the book is more likely to frustrate you with what it leaves out. However, for someone who is just dipping their toes into the pool of true crime or behavioral analysis, it's a good introduction to some of the cases that haunt us.

No one can refute the lasting success of John Grisham as a storyteller. As the author of thirty one novels and sales in the many millions, he enjoys an ardent following of readers, besotted by the fast-moving plotlines, most often exposing some of the fascinating nooks and crannies of the US criminal justice system (though my personal favourite is unrelated to the law – “A Painted House”). Rarely retracing his steps, one must admire too, the author’s originality as well as professional longevity.

As Grisham divulges in the ‘author’s note’, the kernel of this latest book grew from a magazine article by Paul Campos lamenting “The Law School Scam”. A system that apparently preys on the aspirations of wannabe student lawyers, lured by the prospect of a well-paid career, which will never be realised by the majority, yet burden the recipients with mountainous debts, is potentially scandalous and ripe for the Grisham spotlight.
Cue four student friends approaching their final semester at the sub-prime ‘Foggy Bottom Law School’. Each is tending a debt of around $200K and has a ‘handler’ keen to establish a repayment plan. As realisation hits that job prospects are poor and only 50% are predicted to even pass the bar exam, the bleak future calls for radical measures. The friends identify that they have been scammed by the system and wealthy vested interests and embark on a naïve, but bold, scam of their own.

There is something endearing about the youngsters blundering around in an environment, until recently, a hypothetical arena of law. Surrounded by the more hardened beasts of the jungle, however, they have the audacity of youth and an inventiveness born of necessity. For the reader, there is also something enjoyable about the clear underdog blowing a metaphorical raspberry in the face of the establishment. Perhaps it panders to romantic notions of Robin Hood-esque wealth redistribution, or the victim turning the tables on the ‘real’ criminals, but it is a compelling cocktail and one that the author exploits to the full.

Grisham is a master of the suspenseful, thrilling story and the pace and weave of the unfolding strands is beguiling. I don’t think this book is as dramatic as a number of the author’s other novels. Nor are the relationships as convincing. The ending also reminded me of the movie, “Trading Places”. Yet, for all that, it was a compelling read that I've happily skipped through in ‘holiday-read’ fashion.

It is hard not to have a sneaking regard for life’s rebels and though the central characters are hardly white-collar musketeers, their ‘all for one and one for all’ approach has the reader willing them to ‘beat’ the system. For Mr Grisham, another book and another bestseller no doubt, albeit not his best.

Thanks to Pen and Sword History for providing me with a complimentary copy of this book that I voluntarily review.

As a psychiatrist, and having worked in forensic psychiatry in the UK for a number of years, mad or bad is indeed one of the questions that we’re asked very often. (Of course, the two categories are not mutually exclusive, but in the eyes of the law there are certain prerequisites that need to be complied with to be able to apportion guilt). Therefore, I was very curious to read this book that dealt with the issue of insanity and criminal justice in the Victorian era.

The book is divided into five parts, discussing the main players in the debate, the conditions that were listed under the insanity label, the history of the debate, a part discussing ‘mad women, bad women’, and the last and longest part that discusses in more detail the case studies that caused the debates and the legal changes discussed in the book.

Personally, I was fascinated by reading details about the cases behind some of the defences and legal terms still in use today. Having an overall view of the period and what was behind the discussions illuminates and helps explain the legal changes, placing them at a historical and social moment in time. As a psychiatrist, I was particularly interested in the issues of diagnosis and the discussions as to the different categories used to classify disturbed mental states, including some that sound difficult to believe now (like the many ‘women’s conditions’ that justified all kinds of crimes). Although the details of some of the cases and the discussions might sound bizarre, the truth is that matters are not that clear even now, and even if the debates are framed differently, a decision is not always easy to reach.

The case stories are fascinating to read in their own right and cover the most famous and relevant cases of the era. They provide a great overview without going into excessive detail and would be a good starting point for people who want to delve deeper into the subject, whilst providing a general background to others who might be looking for orientation and general reading on the topic. The book is well organised, written clearly, and provides a good summary of the main issues whilst illustrating them well without excess detail or the use of unnecessarily complicated terms.

A good read for anybody interested in issues of criminal justice, insanity and law in Victorian England, particularly those that pertain to the treatment of women by the legal system of the time. A word of warning: the passing of time hasn’t made these cases less upsetting or shocking, so although the book doesn’t dwell unnecessarily on the gore details, you might find some of them hard to read.

By Bryan Stevenson

ISBN: 9780812994520
Publisher: Random House Publishing
Publication Date: 10/21/2014 
Format: Hardcover
My Rating: 5 Stars

A special thank you to Random House and NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, a powerful, inspiring story and journey of one man’s fight, Bryan Stevenson. Beginning as an intern at Atlanta-based Southern Prisoners Defense Committee in 1983, which would connect and lead him on a path which would not only change his life, but history, and others who needed him desperately to be their voice, in a poor and inadequate criminal justice system.

Wow, this is one powerful book, I devoured! As a former whistleblower in one the first SOX cases in the US making it to the federal level in an unprecedented law, I am all about justice and helping those who cannot help themselves, in order to set a precedent and change the course of history. However, unfortunately with any fight, comes obstacles, challenges, time, and despair, as there are some who do not wish misdeeds to be uncovered and brought front and center.

Stevenson, a professor of law at New York University and executive director of the Equal Justice Initiative, a legal firm providing services for the wrongly condemned, describes in his memoir how he received a call to represent this largely neglected clientele, and profound issues among this group

Similar to a young Nelson Mandela, Stevenson is driven, a brilliant lawyer fighting with passion, courage, fury, and conviction- striving for justice for all. Written from first person, he describes the early work of the Equal Justice Initiative he founded to defend the poor, and the wrongly condemned and convicted, and those spending time on death row.

Full of facts, brutal honesty, and sometimes shocking information, our inadequate justice system, with no parole in some states, with alarming facts such as America with the world’s highest incarceration rate; with an inside look at the inherent inhumanity of our American justice system.

Totally captivating, a book, you will not be able to put down. Readers learn the story of Walter McMillian, a black man from southern Alabama, who was accused by a white con-main of two murders, although the snitch had never even met him and was under investigation himself for one of the murders! Through a series of bogus legal situations, police harassment, racism, and phony testimony, McMillian found himself on Alabama’s death row, which unfortunately happened often with poor Southern blacks susceptible to wrongful imprisonment and execution. Fortunately, Stevenson’s persistent efforts, spared this man.

Walter’s story is one of many that he tells, as he has represented abused and neglected children who were prosecuted as adults and suffered more abuse and mistreatment after being placed in adult facilities. He has represented women whose numbers in prison have increased 640 percent in the last thirty years, and seen how our hysteria about drug addiction and our hostility to the poor have made us quick to criminalize and prosecute poor women when a pregnancy goes wrong.

He also has represented mentally disabled people whose illnesses have often landed them in prison for decades, and have gotten close to victims of violent crime and their families and witnessed and how even many of the custodians of mass imprisonment-prison staff-have been made less healthy, more violent, and angry, and less just and merciful. Even with those who have committed terrible crimes they want to find redemption and want more than anything hope and humanity,when nurtured by simple interventions, which are not always forthcoming.

“Each of us is more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.” Stevenson explains his work with the poor and the incarcerated has persuaded him that the opposite of poverty is not wealth; the opposite of poverty is justice.

“The true measure of our commitment to justice, the character of our society, our commitment to the rule of law, fairness, and equality cannot be measured by how we treat the rich, the powerful, the privileged, and the respected among us. The true measure of our character is how we treat the poor, the disfavored, the accused, the incarcerated, and the condemned.”

“We are all implicated when we allow other people to be mistreated. An absence of compassion can corrupt the decency of a community, a state, a nation. Fear and anger can make us vindictive and, unjust and unfair, until we all suffer from the absence of mercy and we condemn ourselves as much as we victimize others. The closer we get to mass incarceration and extreme levels of punishment, the more I appreciate we all need mercy, we all need justice, and perhaps we all need some measure of unmerited grace.“

As you read, you may think you are reading a work of fiction (similar to the recent book, which I loved, and recommend, The Color of Justice by Ace Collins; however, Just Mercy, is real, true to life, even though as suspenseful and intense as fiction; it is a non-fiction sad account, which clearly voices the flaws in our American justice system.

My heart goes out to Stevenson, as in any fight of this nature, the personal crisis suffered when fighting for equality, power, and justice, as emotionally profound. Bryan Stevenson is a hero, an influential crusader for justice today, and deserves to be supported for his work, and his courage in the writing of this extraordinary memoir. I hope all Americans will support him and his cause, and be a voice to help our country -A positive message for us all with the power to transform. Well Done. Highly Recommend!