'Madison Square Murders' by C.S. Poe
- Reed
- Nov 29, 2025
- 3 min read
Author: C.S. Poe
Rating: B
Vibe: Cold case procedural meets Victorian death obsession, with a side of workplace flirtation
I love the genius detective trope. The one who sees what everyone else misses. The investigator whose brain works differently, who notices the detail in the corner of the photograph, the inconsistency in the timeline, the thing that doesn't belong. Everett Larkin is that detective, and Madison Square Murders sets him up well—even if I wanted more opportunities to watch him work.
Larkin handles Cold Cases for the NYPD, and he's exceptional at it. His memory is essentially perfect. He can recall details from years-old case files with unnerving precision. But that gift comes packaged with a personality that keeps people at arm's length. He's flat in affect and blunt in conversation. When a storm uproots a tree in Madison Square Park and reveals a crate of human remains along with a Victorian-era death mask, Larkin gets pulled into a case that spans decades—and into the orbit of Ira Doyle, a forensic artist who's warm, charming, and persistent in all the ways Larkin isn't.
The mystery here is genuinely engaging. The death mask angle pulls you into a world of Victorian mourning culture that feels researched without being tedious, and the cold case structure gives Poe room to layer in history and atmosphere. The twist at the end caught me off guard—I didn't see it coming. That said, I found myself wishing there had been a few more breadcrumbs scattered along the way, the kind that make you slap your forehead on a reread and think of course. As it stands, the surprise works, but it doesn't quite reward close attention.
Larkin himself is an interesting case. His detachment and precision give him dimension—they explain how he can do what he does—but spending a whole book in his head can occasionally feel stilted. His oddness is clearly intentional, and Poe uses it well, but there were moments where the reading experience itself felt a little awkward. And while the setup promises a detective whose abilities will dazzle, I wanted a few more moments where Larkin's skills got to shine. The foundation is there, but the book doesn't always capitalize on it.
The romance between Larkin and Doyle is nicely set up. Doyle is the perfect foil—easy where Larkin is rigid, open where Larkin is guarded—and I completely buy that Doyle would fall for him. But someone like Larkin can be difficult to love, and the relationship moves just a touch faster than felt earned. More time, more shared experiences, more of the slow work of trust-building would have sold it completely. As it is, the foundation is solid, even if the construction feels slightly rushed.
The gay representation here is worth noting for what it doesn't do. It doesn't make a thing of itself. These are gay men doing their jobs, navigating attraction, dealing with complicated personal lives—and their gayness is simply part of who they are, not a plot device or a hurdle. That kind of authenticity matters.
I've already started the sequel, which tells you where I land. Madison Square Murders is a well-crafted mystery with a distinctive protagonist and a premise that hooks you from the first chapter. It's not flawless—I wanted more from Larkin's abilities, more runway for the romance, more "aha" moments buried in the details—but it's good.
