Having survived the shelling of the World War 1 trenches and lost his wife to Spanish flu, there is little to keep Captain Sam Wyndham in England. Invited to join the Imperial Police Force in Bengal, only a week after his arrival in Calcutta, he has to deal with the perplexing murder of a senior British official outside a brothel in the native quarter.

At times, Wyndham may seem like yet another of the cynical, somewhat dysfunctional detectives who encounter a succession of red herrings, blind alleys and setbacks, but with the occasional far-fetched act of derring-do or flash of insight manage to solve the mystery – or at least have it explained by the arch villain, possibly in some tense cliff-hanger.

For a first novel, this is quite impressive. What sets it apart is that the author, brought up in the UK as the child of Indian immigrants, succeeds in getting inside the mind of an Englishman of a century ago. Sometimes the dialogue and Wyndham’s view of his world seem too modern, but the setting is an interesting one – Calcutta in 1919, with a population beginning to question British rule, and Wyndham’s investigation disrupted by the unrest following the Amritsar massacre.

The author’s in-depth research of the buildings, ambience and history of Calcutta creates a strong sense of place. His identification with the native people does not deter him from showing them honestly, as well as how they are viewed by the British expats, whose unconscious prejudice, sense of superiority and general tendency to underestimate them is often shown.

Sergeant Bannerjee Surrender-not, who puts up with being known by this name since British people cannot be bothered to learn it accurately, appears to do most of the legwork as regards the investigation. Although the ending seems a little rushed, some of the scenes on the way seem rather long and repetitive, but perhaps that reflects the nature of detective work. There is realism in the way that essentially honest people, like Wyndham, may be sucked into a system of compromise, even acceptance of corruption on the basis of “the end justifies the means”.

Some “loose ends” of unfinished business point to a sequel, or series as it has turned out, so I shall probably read the next novel in due course – it being no doubt advisable to do this in the right order.