The resemblance to Conan Doyle's suspense- filled dramas ends here. Although the plots are quite well contrived and there are red herrings galore to throw the unwary off the scent, Byomkesh is no Holmes. He does display a predilection for logical deduction and manages to spring some surprises on the reader. But for someone nourished on a diet of Holmesian logic, the feeling of gratification on the completion of a well-written thriller is simply missing. The stories are varied as are the motives and murder weapons.
Characters are well-etched and conversations realistic.
The quality of the translation is good, though strangely sanitised. The stories are not rooted in a particular milieu and the regional flavour that one so looks forward to fails to materialise. Except for the ubiquitous tram into which the sleuths hop often, one could be fooled into thinking that the stories are set anywhere in India, instead of in Calcutta with its distinctive ethos. Good translation does not necessarily imply a systematic elimination of the cultural references that lend vitality to any narrative. A judicious sprinkling of Bengali words would have heightened the appeal of the stories.