The Angel of Darkness (1997) by Caleb Carr is the sequel to The Alienist, or rather, a continuing chronicle of the work of Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, a 19th century psychologist using his knowledge of human behavior to solve crime.
The Alienist focused on a male serial killer who mutilated and murdered boy prostitutes in New York City in 1896. The Angel of Darkness takes place a year later, begins with a seemingly simple kidnapping case, and leads to a long road of investigation of a woman who’s left a string of dead children behind her.
The Alienist was narrated by John Moore, a friend of Dr. Kreizler and a reporter; and though Moore, and the rest of Kreizler’s intimate group–Sara Howard, the Isaacson Brothers, and Cyrus Montrose–are still present in the story, it is narrated by Stevie Taggart, Kreizler’s young ward and driver of the first book, now grown and relating the events of 1897.
It begins when Sara, now running her own private investigator service, calls upon her friends for help with her latest client–the wife of a Spanish consulate whose baby daughter Ana has been kidnapped. The situation is a delicate one, as the U.S. has been agitating for war with Spain, and vice versa. Senora Linares’ husband is unwilling to help find his own daughter, even beating his wife when she suggests they go to the police. As before, it must be an undercover investigation.
Sara enlists the help of John, Cyrus and Stevie, and the Isaacsons, but they soon realize they need the help of their friend Kreizler, who has been despondent over the suicide of one of his young patients, and the resulting investigation into his beloved Institute. They soon draw him in, however, and they zero in on one Elspeth Hunter/Libby Hatch.
They find that wherever this woman goes, in her services as a nurse or caregiver, children die. And yet her behavior leading up to their deaths is exemplary–loving, nurturing, even heroic. It’s a puzzling contradiction, one that gets to the heart of why Kreizler does what he does.
It’s a complex tale with many threads, one that Carr weaves over 700 pages. I often felt that I’d never finish the book, but each successive clue to Elspeth/Libby kept me reading, pulling me deeper into her confounding mystery. The prevailing belief at the time that women were incapable of committing such a crime as murdering children was something the group came up against again and again. If women were guilty of such crimes, the logic went, then they must be insane. But the cold, calculating behavior of Libby contradicted this conclusion in Kreizler’s opinion. The conflicting views of women (the angel/whore dichotomy) and the impossible standards women were held to during the 19th century (and have we really escaped such standards, even now?) is a central theme in the story and what makes Libby so fascinating–and tragic.
The Elspeth/Libby trail leads our group from the streets of New York City controlled by the coke-blowing gang The Hudson Dusters, to the lovely wilds of upstate New York in Saratoga County. As in the previous book, a few famous historical figures make an appearance: feminist agitator Elizabeth Cady Stanton, the ultra-wealthy Vanderbilts, and everyone’s scrappy Police Commissioner turned Naval official turned President of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt. Our group suffers personal tragedies, for the group as a whole, and for Stevie in particular. It’s a big, sprawling book with street fights, courtroom drama, and even a poisonous-dart-throwing pygmy from the Philippines.
I loved the TNT limited series The Alienist, and would love to see a second season. The Angel of Darkness, with its continuing themes of the complexity and darkness of the human mind and the horrific acts resulting from it, would be, in my opinion, an admirable addition to the series. One can always hope.