The story was narrated in first person by Peter – whose humorous, yet razor-sharp observations regarding the nature of London, its inhabitants and its police force provided an entertaining insight into an alternative fantasy London. Rivers of London introduced readers to a magical London where ghosts, vampires and warring river gods are policed by a tiny division of the Metropolitan Police – consisting of DCI Nightingale (Britain’s last wizard) and his new apprentice Peter Grant, a young PC just out of training who is discovered to have rare magical ability. If you haven’t yet read Rivers of London I’d recommend reading doing so before starting Moon Over Soho because character relationships and plotlines are first established in the earlier book. Moon Over Soho is the follow up novel to Ben Aaronovitch’s bestselling urban fantasy novel Rivers of London (US title: Midnight Riot). And maybe, once in a career, you’re doing it for revenge. Occasionally you’re doing it for justice.

That’s the thing about policing: most of the time you’re doing it to maintain public order. And as I hunted them, my investigation got tangled up in another story: a brilliant trumpet player, Richard ‘Lord’ Grant – my father – who managed to destroy his own career. What they leave behind is sickness, failure and broken lives. And it didn’t take me long to realise there were monsters stalking Soho, creatures feeding off that special gift that separates the great musicians from someone who can raise a decent tune. He wasn’t the first, but no one was going to let me exhume corpses to see if they were playing my tune, so it was back to old-fashioned police legwork, starting in Soho, the heart of the scene, with the lovely Simone – Cyrus’ ex-lover, professional jazz kitten and as inviting as a Rubens portrait – as my guide. The former owner of the body, Cyrus Wilkinson, was a part-time jazz saxophonist and full-time accountant who had dropped dead of a heart attack just after finishing a gig. And that’s why, when Dr Walid called me down to the morgue to listen to a corpse, I recognised the tune as ‘Body and Soul’ – something violently supernatural had happened to the victim, strong enough to leave its imprint on his corpse as if it were a wax cylinder recording. When I was a kid, I was in charge of changing my dad’s records while he lounged around drinking tea – that’s how I know my Argo from my Tempo. Officially I belong of ESC9, Economic and Specialist Crime Unit 9, otherwise known as ‘The Folly’, also known as the unit that nice, well-brought up coppers don’t talk about in polite company. I’m a trainee wizard, the first such apprentice in fifty years. My name is Peter Grant, and I’m a Detective Constable in that mighty army for justice known as the Metropolitan Police (a.k.a. Published 2011 375 pages Summary (from the book jacket)

Moon over soho by ben aaronovitch