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From bestseller to death-dealer London's Plumtree Press has a world-class bestseller of a novel. And the sequel is earmarked to get this old family firm out of the red. But its anonymous author, known to Plumtree only as "Arthur," has apparently vanished, leaving the crucial last five chapters undelivered. Alex already knows they reveal the identity of the characters who smuggled British children to America during World War II. But, of course, this is fiction. So when a lead critic previews the book as a nonfiction exposé, Alex is shocked. Even more so when the critic is murdered...and Alex finds himself the target of a ruthless hunt for the manuscript and bizarre attempts on his life. Ducking newshounds, government officials, and the sniping of jealous publishers, Alex knows only one thing: If he can't find Arthur and untangle the truth, his next season's list may be a posthumous one.… (more)
User reviews
Unfortunately, all of the fairly large cast of characters felt flat to me and none of them ever jumped off the page enough for me to care what was happening to them, including, and especially, the first person narrator. Instead, they all felt like ciphers being moved around by the author in furtherance of the complicated plot. I read to the end but I don’t think I’ll be seeking out any of the other mysteries in this series.
The main failing for me is the 'hero', Alex Plumtree, because the detective figure in a mystery series should always be more interesting that the plot, just in case, as happened here, the 'whodunit' falls short. I just didn't care for Alex, and his first person narrative was flat without a 'distinctive' voice of his own (Stout's Archie Goodwin has ruined me for life). Also, Alex's perving on the 'love of his life', a goddess called Sarah (I hate being told - repeatedly - that female characters are intelligent, like that's something out of the ordinary), was at best pathetic, and worst, creepy. He watches her chest straining against her blouse when she takes her jacket off, wishes he was the phone cord when it touches her, and observes that 'the muscles of her back were well defined, but the creamy expanse of skin was spectacularly feminine'! No wonder she held him at bay for so long! Also, the ridiculously 'quaint' names - Plumtree, Romney Marsh - would be more fitting in a Christie-esque cosy, not a pseudo-Hollywood action mystery, where the bespectacled hero suddenly decides to exit a lift by the overhead escape hatch a la Bruce Willis (has anybody actually ever done that?) Nostalgic England, where time has stood still since war was declared in 1939, or 1990s America - make your mind up, Miss Kaewert! (And on a nitpicking level, the editing is fairly lax. Alex is described as being a tall man, and then his shorter companion 'looks over his shoulder' - not to mention the Mini he drives around easily and without complaint later on in the story, after complaining that his Golf wasn't made for tall men!)
Far too simplistic for me. I prefer characters with a bit of depth, better research, and a darker tone. I didn't believe in Alex, or the London he inhabits. Let's hope he gets to marry Sarah in the next instalment, and decides to move Stateside permanently.
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Fic Mystery Kaewert |