Showing posts with label Nero Wolfe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nero Wolfe. Show all posts

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Rex Stout's Black Orchids

Black Orchids contains two novellas; the first, "Black Orchids," came out in 1941; the second, "Cordially Invited to Death," in 1942. The volume with both was originally issued in May of 1942.

Though the war was on in Europe, and while Rex Stout had previously engaged with it in his Nero Wolfe mysteries, in these two, there's no sign of trouble abroad. Instead, the world might well be at peace: the first centers around a flower show, and the second starts when a famous and successful arranger of parties shows up to hire Wolfe.

The flower show features as one of its wonders black orchids (featured on the cover of my edition) and, of course, Wolfe has to have them. He starts by sending Archie to the flower show to investigate. Are the real? Are they really black? And have they been pollinated so that there might be more? Archie goes three days in a row, but is more interested in the girl on display than the flowers, though that interest doesn't stop from making an accurate and nuanced report on the black orchids.

Of course, in the end, Wolfe (who never leaves his house) leaves his house to see the black orchids. They're both at the flower show when the murder occurs; a gardener is murdered in the middle of the most popular exhibit in the entire show, popular precisely because of that girl that Archie had been admiring. Wolfe wants nothing but to go back home, but it's Archie who recognizes that the body is a dead body, and has a couple of other tricks to play. It's the opportunity Wolfe was looking for. A job, and the fee will just somehow happen to be those black orchids. Which in the end he earns. But it's Inspector Cramer, the homicide detective, who has the last word:

"'They're pretty,' Cramer said politely, turning to go. 'Kind of drab, though. Not much color. I like geraniums better.'"

In the second novella, Bess Huddleston, the party arranger, attempts to hire Wolfe because she's receiving threatening letters. He turns down the job. Later she's murdered, and Wolfe claims not to care, but after Inspector Cramer badgers him, he decides to do something. But not leave the house: "A man crossing a street is extremely likely to get run over. That's why I never undertake it." Except when there are flowers or meals involved...

I found this one a little less successful. One of the charms of the Nero Wolfe series is the final scene where he assembles everyone and winkles the solution from the assembled suspects. Here he simply demands that people tell him things and they don't, so he tells them what they were supposed to tell him. Perhaps the novella length meant that Stout had to make it happen a little faster. There's often a romance on the side in these mysteries; the one in "Black Orchids" was more amusing than the one in "Cordially Invited To Death." Still both were quite enjoyable; it was definitely a strong Wolfe outing.

And it comes with flowers, those three black orchids right there on the cover. Pity I didn't read it a week ago, since flowers was one of the winning categories. But since the random number generator favored me for the Mount TBR challenge, I have nothing to complain about...

Golden Age. Flowers. My Readers' Block Vintage Mystery Scavenger Hunt.

Saturday, March 4, 2017

Rex Stout's Where There's A Will

Two Nero Wolfe novels came out in 1940; this was the second. Where Over My Dead Body was very much a novel of its year, with contemporary political concerns, Where There's A Will feels much less fixed in time. As you might guess, the case turns on a will; by the standards of Golden Age Mystery wills, this will isn't completely crazy, but it does leave all the money to Noel Hawthorne's mistress and not to his wife. The wife plans to raise holy heck to get her money, and the family, mostly in the form of the dead man's sisters, the fabulous Hawthorne girls, engage Wolfe to solve the problem without scandal.

Within pages District Attorney Skinner announces that Noel Hawthorne was murdered, and didn't die in a hawk- or crow-hunting accident. All hope of avoiding scandal is out the window.

Wolfe, who famously never leaves his home, (except when he does) heads off in a taxicab, unescorted by his goad and chief assistant Archie Goodwin, to the house of one of those fabulous Hawthorne girls. There he asks questions until a second murder occurs and he sneaks off back home, letting Archie deal with the irruption of policemen investigating the second murder.

In the end, of course, the suspects are assembled in Wolfe's office, a trick is played, and the murderer revealed.

For me, this one didn't work as well as the previous. The introduction the Hawthorne sisters was not as witty or as swift as that of Carla Lovchen in Over My Dead Body. Some elements seem oddly unnecessary: there's confusion whether the dead man was out to shoot a hawk or a crow, a confusion that has no bearing on the plot. (It's clearly a crow on the cover.) Nearing the end, in a ploy that Stout uses elsewhere, Wolfe keeps secrets from Archie for no particularly good reason, but so that he can also keep them from us. Oh, well. Even on a bad day, there's nothing quite like a Rex Stout novel.

I'm seeking out well-paced, comic mystery novels, more even than usual, at the moment to distract myself from reading the news. Alas, in a novel written in 1940, with an introduction by Dean Koontz from 1992, it's not entirely possible to escape:

Twenty years ago, when I was struggling to find my own voice as a writer, I was reading five novels a week in addition to putting in full days at the typewriter. (We didn't have the great blessing of computers and word-processing software back then. But we didn't have freeway shootouts or Donald Trump, either, so it wasn't altogether a less appealing era.)
I'd definitely trade away my computer and word-processing software if we could roll back six months...

Whether Noel Hawthorne went hunting for a hawk or crow, there's definitely a bird on the cover.

Golden Age. Bird. My Reader's Block Vintage Mystery Scavenger's Hunt.

Friday, January 13, 2017

Rex Stout's Over My Dead Body

I've read all the Nero Wolfe mysteries at least once, and I started last year rereading them in order. So, I guess you can say I'm a fan. This one strikes me as particularly strong.

I'm very impressed with how much Stout achieves just in the first few pages. Nero and Archie are still fairly new creations, and they're reintroduced succinctly and amusingly. The client--or is she?--is sketched quickly, even without her name, which may or may not be her real name, and isn't given for several pages.
"'Pliz,' she said, 'I would like to see Misturr Nero Wolfe.'
Or you might have spelled it plihz or plizz or plihsz. However you spelled it, it wasn't Middle West or New England or Park Avenue or even East Side. It wasn't American, and naturally it irritated me a little."

There's also a bit of byplay involving a book that seems like it might be just standard chaff by Archie of Nero, but isn't. Shortly after that there's an FBI agent who introduces another bit of something to wonder about, and before long there's a body.

There are agents of foreign governments, a second body, and Nero never leaves the house in this one, though he's invited to a couple of times. It moves along nicely.

The other thing that struck me particularly about this novel is that it came out in 1940, and is very much a novel of its year. The emphasis on Americanness above, the foreign agents, and the concern over what's happening in Europe. This is the novel that reveals Nero Wolfe's Montenegrin ancestry, and troubles in the Balkans are probably in everybody's mind.

I never need a reason to read Rex Stout, but this does qualify for the Golden Age Mystery Scavenger's Hunt. There's a couple of brunettes and a dead body on the cover, but for now I'm using it for the knife, the weapon of the second murder:

"'The weapon?'
'Hasn't been found. He was stabbed in the left breast with a blade long enough to reach the heart, and it was withdrawn in a few minutes, but not immediately, judging from the amount of bleeding.'"

There it is. Long enough to reach the heart.

Golden Age. Knife. My Reader's Block's Vintage Mystery Scavenger Hunt.