The Nightingale Gallery: Being the First of the Sorrowful Mysteries of Brother Athelstan

The stage of this atmosphere-drenched series opener is dominated by the city of London: a fetid, 14th-century melting pot brimming with all manner of life, high and low. Throughout Harding's supremely evocative, scrupulously researched portrait, the stench of the huddled masses is practically palpable. But there's more foul here than the city's streets: Sir Thomas Springall, a nobleman of the court, has been poisoned, and the servant who bore the fatal cup has apparently committed suicide. Enter Sir John Cranston, the London coroner who makes Jack Falstaff look like Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, and whose appetite for drink is reflected in his ample girth. Together with his clerk, Brother Athelstan, a canny priest with a ``nose for mischief,'' Cranston ferrets out a fiendish plot that reverberates with intrigue in high places. Minor flaws--the titular architectural feature has scant significance, and Athelstan's character lacks focus--barely detract from this vivid, intricately crafted whodunit. And the book is full of colorful characters such as Watkin the dung collector, Ranulf the ratcatcher and a constable at Tower Bridge who lovingly combs the hair of executed traitors and sings them lullabies. (May)