oyster pie; on another, when he must be elsewhere at lunch time, he has Fritz reserve his portion of sweetbreads. Delectable new dishes are concocted, though why Archie, dining with Lily at Rusterman’s, settles for something as pedestrian as veal marsala is hard to fathom. Despite events of huge urgency, as usual business is not discussed at lunch time. In Murder in E Minor, Wolfe’s fee from one client is a year’s supply of his favorite beer. The gold bookmark is periodically seen. And, mystery of mysteries, clients and visitors, as usual, always find a place to park in front of the brownstone. All the regulars are in place—Lily, Fritz, Theodore, Saul, Fred, Cramer, Stebbins, Rowcliff, and even Geoffrey Hitchcock. In Death on Deadline Bill Gore is briefly acknowledged, though Rex dropped him because “apparently he bored me.” Goldsborough drops him, too. For the same reason, one supposes. But we may need him, now that Orrie is gone.
In addition to the necessary touches, there are some pleasantly surprising ones, quite acceptable though post-Stoutian. On one occasion Wolfe, with evident approval, quotes Dorothy Sayers. He watches The History of the Jewish People on Public Television. He reads some excellent new books, Zdzislaw Najder’s Joseph Conrad: A Chronicle and J. Bernard Cohen’s Revolution in Science, but shudders at a mention of People magazine. He shudders also when he hears that an evangelical minister wants to add the Gazette to his Christian network. At one point he flabbergasts us when he declares: “The monumental misadventures of my life, and I’m chagrined to say there have been a number, all have centered on women.” For amplification we must await further books in the series. Similarly we are left to wonder whether Wolfe ruminates on cases when he is in the plant rooms. He says he doesn’t. Archie thinks otherwise. We do learn, at a mealtime conversation, that he thinks Tocqueville’s Democracy in America the greatest book ever written on America by a foreigner, and that he favors abolishing the constitutional amendment limiting the President to two terms, thus, by merest chance, taking sides with Ronald Reagan, surely something that does not happen too often.
In Death on Deadline Saul Panzer is given plenty to do and performs up to standard. Lon Cohen also has a strong role, as well he might, since the Gazette itself provides the story line, a powerful plot that surely would have appealed to Rex Stout. Goldsborough’s use of a rare Archie Goodwin “Foreword” to underscore the esteem in which Wolfe holds both Cohen and the Gazette is well justified. As a professional journalist, Goldsborough knows how to handle this material for maximum impact. Certainly, in using it he has played an ace. If readers don’t take to the resumed saga after reading Death on Deadline, the fault is not his. It couldn’t be done better. BG, we might say, follows AG as naturally as the night the day, and he gives us a night resplendent with shooting stars.
Timidity never has been a hallmark of the Nero Wolfe novels. Each, in its own way, broke new ground.
Even as he entertained us, Rex Stout attacked a wide spectrum of social evils. And so it is here, Wolfe’s target being a celebrated czar of the tabloids. Goldsborough spices this challenge with several characteristic Stoutian surprises. Cramer, in an episode reminiscent of the milk carton scene in The Doorbell Rang, visits the plant room to deliver to Wolfe a vital bit of information. Wolfe is nonplussed when the newspaper overlord tries to buy him off with an offer to put him on the payroll as a columnist syndicated worldwide. Wolfe places a sensational, full-page advertisement in The New York Times and threatens to submit a second one. Fritz gets to announce one of the major developments in the case. Archie is observed wearing a digital watch!
A few things in Death on Deadline might have been handled differently. For example, in both Goldsborough