The Missing Chapter

Rating:
Summary: Entertaining, but undercut by various weak points
Review: I wavered between 2 and 3 stars in rating this book, deciding on the latter because it's reasonably entertaining.

Goldsborough succeeds in quickly capturing readers' attention - the victim's role is filled by an author in a situation somewhat resembling Goldsborough's own. Charles Childress, selected by Horace Vinson - Monarch Press' editor-in-chief - some years before the story opens, had continued the long-running series of Sgt. Barnstable mysteries after the death of their creator, Darius Sawyer. Childress' death in his Village apartment, shot by his own gun, has been closed as a suicide. Vinson disbelieves the suicide theory, and his attempts to persuade the investigating officer - Rowcliff - got nowhere, so he has come to the brownstone seeking to hire Wolfe.

Vinson had been Childress's mentor to some extent. He supported Childress in a conflict with his mystery editor, Keith Billings, losing Billings in the process - but he's known to invariably side with authors against editors. Frankly, neither Vinson's relationship with Childress nor his willingness to foot Wolfe's large bill is properly explored - neither Vinson nor Monarch appears to have a stake. Firms hiring Wolfe in the past have done so to avert major publicity disasters, but that doesn't appear to be in the offing here - and unlike previous such cases, the distinction between Vinson as individual and Monarch as a firm isn't clarified in hiring Wolfe.

Another point not fully countered is the strength of the case for suicide - any murderer would have a sporting chance of acquittal. Childress was 'moody' - being not only hot-tempered and ungrateful, but with at least one prior suicide attempt. He had an inflated and unjustified opinion of his abilities as a writer, and reacted very violently to both open and implied criticism - as evidenced by his vitriolic attacks on the Gazette's literary critic, Walter Hobbs, on his own agent, Franklin Ott, and on Monarch's mystery editor, Keith Billings.

Hobbs had blasted Childress, particularly in the area of weak plotting, and Childress responded with a libelous counterattack - and Hobbs wouldn't sue. Hobbs has a bad reputation in the New York literary world - that his favorable reviews are only services rendered - but Goldsborough doesn't properly shore up this thread with detailed information. Hobbs' first meeting with Wolfe is disappointing, given the buildup.

In another poison-pen essay, Childress had savaged both his ex-agent and ex-editor - but not by name - affecting both their reputations, since the attack was in a professional publication. Ott's efforts on his client's behalf didn't satisfy Childress- receiving a 15% rather than 80% increase on his next contract, not bad for something even Vinson says would never have made the bestseller lists. How badly was Ott's business affected by Childress' attacks? The clash with Billings appears more personal, since Billings demanded substantial revision of Childress' work, particularly in shoring up what he claims were serious weaknesses in plot construction.

In Childress' personal life, he was engaged to Debra Mitchell, a chat show personality immediately pegged by Archie as bossy and micromanaging (on insufficient evidence). She accuses Patricia Royce of murdering Childress out of thwarted desire. Royce, who wrote in a different genre, claims to have had only a platonic mutual-aid relationship with Childress, and says that his relationship with Mitchell was near its end. Childress' attraction for women is never made comprehensible.

Wolfe takes the case, not because he has a rational case for murder, but because Cramer riles him in an offstage confrontation with him, while Archie's performing the initial legwork. Cramer's merry men appear on stage only during the final showdown, in fact. Saul has a role - and even a decent speaking part at Wolfe's dinner table, a rarity - but Fred does not appear. Lily appears on stage briefly, offering a suggestion that possibly *everybody* was in on it. As one of the more amusing subplots, the brownstone's now-ancient elevator kicks the bucket (good for some comic relief, and allowing Goldsborough to disrupt Wolfe's schedule).

Archie's financial worries appear to be a continuity error, given the situation at the beginning of Goldsborough's first Wolfe novel, _Murder in E Minor_. The dialogue has rough patches in characterization, for both Archie and Wolfe. On at least 3 occasions, Archie or Wolfe forms a conclusion about another character that doesn't follow from the evidence. Wolfe begins reading some of Childress' work, but (inconsistent with his actions in, say, _Plot It Yourself_) isn't shown reading the works of other relevant figures in the case. In general, Wolfe and the gang leave a number of unexplored avenues, without apparent justification.

Rating:
Summary: The best of the Goldsborough Nero Wolfe
Review: This book seems to be written in response to people who were unhappy with Goldsborough's taking on the continuation of the Nero Wolfe series. This mystery deals with the death of a writer, disliked by many, who takes on the tales of an eccentric small town detective. Filled with possible suspects, this book also serves to let Goldsborough take some shots at many targets. Interfering editors, vindictive critics, inept agents, and nerdy fans who worry about minutia are all fair game. I'm not sure if this was Goldsborough's last Wolfe mystery but if it was he went out with a bang.