Talking About Nero Wolfe? Have You Met Him? - A Genius at Solving Mysteries! In Trouble at the Brownstone...

 

I have been a fan of mysteries since I started reading fiction. Many of the early books were turned into TV series, Nero Wolfe was one of them. Since then Wolfe has been played by a number of actors. The first video is an example of one of those actors. The second one, however, is the first and became my favorite Nero... I enjoyed most the personality of this actor. Even if you don't watch both movies - more on YouTube - you will discover that Wolfe is written to be somewhat of a recluse and can be a grudge. Not to mention how he is somewhat two-faced with his staff, including, even, his gofer, you might say...

You see Nero Wolfe, being a genius, was also somewhat of a snob. He expected most people to come to his home, where he had an office. His main life was based on 3 things. or you could say, 4... Reading, acting as a PI, and his love and study of orchids... And, eating... His staff includes a highly skilled chef with whom, in the book I just finished, are somewhat of a pair whose personal skills are belabored each evening as the next day's menu is planned. The resulting menu that was described often includes meals about which I had no idea what they would actually taste like, or even pronounce sometimes... LOL But Wolfe was the boss, so the chef found himself in a position of being ordered how each meal would be prepared... Two geniuses often argue, it seems...

And it begins...

I go to the Amazon desktop library, I type in Trouble in the Brownstone which is the title of the book. I have learned that the sorting proposed by the programmers of a library for Amazon readers require certain formats... But you are never quite sure what that format for any given book will be... NORMAL people use the title--the one that is supposed to be the actual title, in italics, accordikng to typing rules... But... sometimes the subtitle Must Be Used as Well... Who Knows?! Also, I unfortunately add, if you don't remember the exact full title, well there is NO HELP Like a normal search in the past... The mistake I made was typing in when it should have ben at... What? All I get is that a message saying it is not in my library... even though I just finished reading that same book... IF this is AI use, I'm not impressed... If this is way the programmer created for potential buyers? Forget about many sales!

So now I have to go back to my reader or to the Amazon site and find how what to type in on the software provided by that same company, for a desktop computer. I retype the name, not knowing whether I used the exact title or not (sorts in the past helped in that process and brought up a possible list of what you were seeking...but that was before AI searches, it seems...or whatever the reason is that normal sorting and searching which was extremely easy for customers actually helped rather than hindered... I'm being repetitive, because this entire computer issue flashes me back to the machine trigger of PTSD...

Now, the problem is that there are now two books seen on the screen... I click on the title... It doesn't work... I click on dots at the end. a popup occurs. I click the box and I see Open...and other options... The open cannot be used... So I try the next line of the same book that was finally pulled up. It produces the same popup all of which performed exactly the same as the first line. and I still don't have the book opened...

So I go back to my reader and try to figure out just how much I have to type from the title page of the book... By the time I go back, again, one has been checked! Apparently you begin to learn that sync is extremely slow in happening... And, that the download of the book has now taken place and I can actually open that book on my desktop version... Sigh...

As an aside, I'm a fast typer. In fact, this flashes me back to when I was kicked off Facebook for nearly two years on the supposed excuse that my account may have been hacked... I kept after them and finally some brave soul sent the message "I type too fast..." TRUTH... Had I broken the computer? Do computers these days only work at one certain rate of typing? Is that on purpose, or once again they have not foreseen that a user of "their" computer programming might type fast? All I know that this company totally ignored me until I did what everybody else did and create a new account with a different name that nobody would know... That is... my 5000+ connections as a book reviewer... And none of my former groups were recoverable. I lost what I think is the first book related group on Facebook at the time I created Reviewers Roundup... All of that was lost and I was told unrecoverable... yeah, right...

Now, while I was reading I didn't find the copyright page, so I try again on the desktop and was referred to another site to get a free copy of the book, which I already have... Key to this issue is, of course, the new AI scare of authors, and I don't really blame them, because we all know that criminals on computers are prolific at hacking if they so desire... Ok, now what do I do. Do I just ignore a copyright...

That could be a problem, because the author is a new writer who has been accepted as one who is able to "continue" the writing style of the original creator and author of the Nero Wolfe series... What to do? I decide to go to Amazon and pull up my original purchase and check out, possibly, the author's page...

After several types of searches, I have given up. There is no longer the ability to read some of the book... There is no longer the ability to easily find your order since you must guess how that particular program was written... I was unable to pull up the book on my order list in a search. I was able to bring up the book with the title on the product search activity... Geesh... That means to me that they do not have an integrated computer system, even by type of product... Sad...

There was nothing that showed a copyright date which I could verify. Therefore, I haven't yet a plan how to present my actual review, except I did pick up a copy of the book cover... So I begin again... with a final comment. Evidence continues to mount that AI or whatever is happening in corporations is NOT improving buyer's happiness with actually purchasing! And their USE!

Chapter 1 

Let’s get something straight, right at the start: I am not a friend of Theodore Horstmann’s and never have been, from the first time we met in Nero Wolfe’s brownstone all those years ago. He is surly, smug, standoffish, and superior in his manner. Oh, and honesty compels me to mention that Theodore doesn’t like me, either, although you will have to ask him why. I’m not about to. And I don’t care. All of that aside, the man is part of our “family” in the old brownstone on West Thirty-Fifth Street in Manhattan, which consists of Nero Wolfe, master detective and lord of all he surveys; Fritz Brenner, chef supreme, whose gourmet meals are part of the reason Wolfe weighs a seventh of a ton; Horstmann, the orchid nurse who works with Wolfe to coddle the 10,000 orchids in the greenhouse’s three climate-controlled rooms on the roof; and me, Archie Goodwin, gofer, errand boy, and cockle burr under Wolfe’s saddle whenever he shows signs of laziness while working on a case—which is often. 

Life in the brownstone had gone smoothly since the end of the war, and now, six years later and just past the midpoint of the twentieth century, that domestic peace had been disturbed. Because Theodore is part of our aforementioned family, any animosity I have for him gets set aside when he encounters trouble, which he did just last night, and in spades. Wolfe and I were in the dining room that June evening, feasting on Fritz’s lamb cutlets and tomatoes, when the front bell began ringing with short, angry bursts, as if a telegrapher were exercising a finger. Fritz beat me to the hallway, but I was right behind him when—after peering through the one-way glass—he swung the front door open and a battered and bleeding Theodore Horstmann pitched forward into the hallway with a groan, falling down on the floor, writhing. “There were . . . two of them . . .” he gasped, looking at Fritz and me through blackened eyes that were barely open. By now, Wolfe had joined us and peered down at Theodore, his eyebrows going halfway up his forehead. “Great hounds and Cerberus!” Wolfe barked. “Get Dr. Vollmer—now!” 

Doc Vollmer, Edwin A., to be formal, is our local sawbones and lives just down the block. He has been both a friend to Wolfe and a confidant who has patched me up on occasion. Vollmer also has, when necessary, hidden one of our clients in his house and once signed a certificate that stated Wolfe was batty. Less than five minutes after I called him, Vollmer, a short specimen with large eyes, a round face, and not much chin, barreled in with his bag and looked down at Theodore, to whom Fritz, on the floor, was ministering with a cup of water and a cool compress on his forehead. “Get out of my way!” Vollmer said, his sharp tongue belying his stature, as he knelt beside Theodore and began checking his vital signs—pulse, carotid, blood pressure. He spoke to the wounded man but got no answer, as he had lapsed into labored breathing. “Archie, call an ambulance,” he spat over his shoulder. “We are going to Roosevelt Hospital—now!” 

I followed orders, and within minutes, accompanied by the sound of a siren and screeching brakes, a pair of young, square-jawed men in white coats burst into the hall with a stretcher and eased Theodore onto it as Vollmer barked orders at them with all the authority of a drill sergeant. “I will call you when I know something,” the doctor said over his shoulder to Wolfe as he and the trio, one of them clearly unconscious, left the brownstone. For one of the few times I have known him, Wolfe was both speechless and unmoored. It was enough that his dinner had been interrupted, an almost unthinkable occurrence, but his comfortable and insular world suddenly got turned upside down. Theodore had worked for Wolfe for decades, and while it’s true the two of them often sparred—sometimes noisily—over the proper care of one variety of orchid or another, Wolfe had come to rely upon this brusque and often surly man—probably more than he would admit. 

A few months back, Theodore had vacated his small quarters on the roof that adjoined the rooms in which those pampered posies reside and flourish. He told Wolfe he felt the need to have a place of his own, that he felt closed-in by spending all of his waking and sleeping hours inside the brownstone. Wolfe couldn’t argue the point, nor did he try, despite his own reluctance to leave home except for the occasional foray to the barbershop or his annual visit to the Metropolitan Orchid Show, where he was always seen as something of a celebrity. Theodore had moved into a one-bedroom apartment in a five-story building called the Elmont on Tenth Avenue, just north of Fifty-Eighth, a brisk walk from the brownstone. He still continued to eat both breakfast and lunch in the kitchen with Fritz, and also ate dinner with him on many occasions. And, of course, he still spent those inviolable four hours a day—nine-to-eleven in the morning and four-to-six in the evening—with Wolfe up in the plant rooms. With the exception of Theodore’s move to separate living quarters, life had seemed to continue apace on West Thirty-Fifth Street until that night he staggered up to the front door and collapsed. Since then, he has remained in a coma, with Doc Vollmer telling us that “there is no telling when, or if, he will regain consciousness. Specialists agree with me on that assessment.” Vollmer had Theodore moved to intensive care at the hospital, and after a weekday lunch, Wolfe had me drive him there to see the patient. We walked along the facility’s halls with a white-jacketed resident who had the requisite stethoscope draped around his neck. He seemed impressed by meeting Nero Wolfe. “I hope that you will not be shocked by Mr. Horstmann’s appearance,” the young doctor told us earnestly as we stopped at a room that had T. Horstmann typed on a card that fitted into a slot on the door. Grim-faced, Wolfe made no reply. If he indeed was shocked at what he saw, he gave no indication as he stared down at the figure in the bed, who was surrounded by wires and tubes and with bandages covering much of his still-bruised face. After no more than a minute, Wolfe said, “Let us go.” As I steered the Heron back to West Thirty-Fifth Street with my passenger in the back seat clutching the specially installed hand strap as if it were a lifeline, he said, “We will find whoever did this. Do you question that?” “No, sir, not for a moment,” I replied, wondering how much of the plural pronoun would fall to me to accomplish. But that did not matter; this was in the family. After we got home from the hospital, Wolfe settled into the reinforced chair at his desk, grimaced, and snapped, “Get Fritz.” I took that as a command and went to the kitchen, where Brenner was preparing one of tomorrow’s meals. 

“Mr. Wolfe would like to see you,” I told him. He looked confused. “Does he want beer?” “No, he wants you—now.” He put down his oven mitts and spatula and followed me into the office, his face lined with concern. “Yes, sir,” he said to Wolfe, standing at attention. “Sit down, Fritz. You have the advantage of me.” “Sir?” He clearly was uncomfortable. To him, the office was not a place where he belonged, other than to bring beer when requested and to run the vacuum cleaner and do the dusting, but only when no one else was present. Fritz looked at me in confusion and finally chose one of the yellow chairs that faced Wolfe’s desk. He was not about to park himself in the red leather chair that was reserved for clients or for Inspector Cramer of the Homicide Squad. 

“You know more about Theodore and his private life than either Archie or I do,” Wolfe said. “I would—” “How is he, Mr. Wolfe?” he interrupted. “I should have started with that, Fritz; my apologies. Theodore is comatose, but his condition appears to be stable. As to when he may emerge from the coma, that remains uncertain. We would like to learn what you know about his life away from here. All of my conversations with him have invariably been about orchids. And as you are no doubt aware, Archie has not had any substantive conversations whatever with him.” Fritz licked his lips and frowned. “I do not know what I can say to you.” “Very well,” Wolfe said. “I will assume the role of interrogator. What can you tell us about Theodore’s place of residence?” “I have not been there, but from what he has told me, he finds it to be comfortable. It has one bedroom, he says, and it is on the fourth floor of an apartment building on Tenth Avenue up in the Fifties. He can walk down here in less than a half hour.” “We have the address, of course,” Wolfe said, “so any mail that comes to us is forwarded. Has he said anything to you about his activities away from the brownstone?” Fritz nodded. “Oh yes, he tells me he has found a new hobby—bridge.” “Indeed.” “Actually, he told me he had learned to play years ago, but only since he moved had he started to take up the game again. He seems to enjoy it, and he said he plays two or three nights a week.” 

“With whom does the play? And where?” “Other men of about his age. He told me they are divorced or have never married. They have their games in a back room of a bar on Tenth Avenue, which is called McCready’s. It is just across the street from where he now lives.” Wolfe threw a questioning look in my direction. “I know of the saloon,” I said. “It’s a fixture in that neighborhood, and it’s been there as long as I can remember. I stopped in once a while back because of a case we were working on, although the lead I was chasing turned out to be a dead end. Because it is not far from the North River piers on the Hudson, it’s a hangout for a lot of longshoremen.” “That’s right,” Fritz put it. “Theodore told me that dockworkers like the place, both for drinking and for playing pocket billiards—or pool, as it is called. He also said that they seemed to be a pretty rough bunch. And they shoot pool in the same room where the bridge games are.” 

“Longshoremen can be tough, all right,” I agreed. “Seems like an odd combination of customers that McCready’s draws—dockworkers and middle-aged card players.” Fritz continued to look uncomfortable, which was not lost on Wolfe. “Is there anything else you can tell us about Theodore?” “Only that he asked his bridge-playing friends, and he referred to them as friends, to call him ‘Ted.’” “Did he tell you if any of those men knew what he does for a living?” I posed. “I did ask him that, Archie, but he said he only told them he worked as a gardener.” “Didn’t they think it strange that somebody living in the middle of Manhattan would be a gardener?” “I guess they would,” Fritz said with a shrug, “although Theodore never mentioned their reactions to me.” “Did he ever suggest anyone in that bar who might have had animus toward him?” Wolfe asked. “No, sir. I got the impression Theodore thought the dockworkers were rather crude and that they felt the card players were not overly . . . I don’t know how to express it.” “Manly?” Wolfe supplied. “Yes, that is it, manly. But according to Theodore, he and his new friends ignored the others in the bar and those around the pocket billiard table in the back room.” 

“Being ignored probably bothered the dockworkers,” I put in. “No doubt,” Wolfe concurred. “Nothing riles the swaggerer more than to be disregarded. Thank you, Fritz; we will take no more of your time.” What Wolfe really was saying was that it was necessary for Fritz to get back to his meal preparations. We were faced with an upsetting and potentially tragic situation, but that did not mean the meticulous schedule by which the brownstone operated was about to go out the window.

Goldsborough, Robert. Trouble at the Brownstone (The Nero Wolfe Mysteries Book 16) (pp. 3-10). MysteriousPress.com/Open Road. Kindle Edition. 

~~~~~~

First a comment about the author, Robert Goldsborough. This was the first book that I'd read by this new author. Most of my memories of previous Nero Wolfe connections was with the original Rex Stout...

I found this vid by accident, by searching to verify my memory for Rex Stout... Seriously, do you get the feeling that I have become sarcastic? Well, I have to say that, actually, I am writing the truth of what actually happens on my screen...

Now... now that I've introduced Rex Stout, by accident, I want to share that I found the author of the book Trouble at the Brownstone, while doing an excellent Nero Wolfe Mystery, in my opinion has improved the books. His writing of a novel surpasses what I remember. What I found was that, in broadening the scope of daily activities and the expanded character development into the personal lives of those people, I found more of a literary enjoyment than with earlier mystery novels. For me, I discovered I didn't mind that the book was slower-paced. I didn't mind that I was lingering over some parts, rather than working my brain to catch any clues of the mystery so that I could be in competition as to whether I had solved the mystery by the close of the book... LOL

You see, Nero Wolfe has a style of solving a mystery... He holds his ongoing thoughts about a case until the very end to "reveal" the guilty party(ies). Other writers have used this concept. Having just read an expert in that scene, I'd say that Nero Wolfe is the best at it...

Although his gofer associate is rarely satisfied with his own involvement. You see Archie Goodwin is, in many ways, also a main character and actual partner to Wolfe, although Wolfe's role dominates by virtue of his egotistical personality. We know how that can be, even from someone who is not a genius...but who has more power than he should, don't we? 

Archie is a PI himself. Actually, he is the character who does the actual investigation for the team. He is out doing the interviews... He is also out getting shot at or beat up, the latter actually occurring in this book. And, also in this book, we learn that Archie has a personal life with a little romance added for flavor... Just a tasty addition to the gourmet food that is also elaborately discussed... Archie is also the narrator of the story, since he, in theory, also acts as the secretary to Nero Wolfe, which includes, for instance, typing up the letters, filing of the records on the orchids, making the calls to see if so-and-so is in and available to speak to Wolfe... Yes, all these tasks, including the last one especially for ego purposes, used to be done by a title that no longer exists. A professional secretary or administrative assistant... Archie also listens in on most calls and is definitely second listener on all calls that could be relevant to the case. There is also an investigative staff in addition to Archie, but it is always Nero Wolfe who presents what has occurred: how it was done and who he considers part of the crime(s) and it is then turned over to the police representative who is included in that final Wolfe Reveal. Wolfe also enjoys sharing his formidable memory of what he's read whenever a case involves historical facts or events...

And that is how this book set historically suddenly became relevant to today's U.S.!

This mystery actually was personal for Wolfe. One of his important staff members had been beaten and throughout most of the book in a coma in the hospital. Under a doctor who was much more involved in patient health care than is now available these days... So, Wolfe had already initiated his own investigation to discover who had deprived him of his valued staff member. He is an expert in the care of orchids... So throughout the book, we hear of Wolfe 's opinion of his temporary replacement and his lack of similar skills provided from his permanent assistant...

In any event, it became so much a part of the discussion, I decided I needed some edification on the care of orchids... at the lower level of course... Mainly I just wanted to see how the orchids, which are very beautiful, actually were grown in the house... Wolfe has an entire floor in the Brownstone of actual plants, as well, I would think, of what is needed for caring for that actual greenhouse environment... Of course, you can just look at the orchid in bloom or the one that is in trouble and proceed on to more about the mystery...

To begin the mystery, we learn that Wolfe's orchid assistant, who had recently moved out of the small room he had been assigned at the Brownstone, was living in a modest hotel, and even playing bridge in the evenings with a group of friends he had found in the outside world. The bridge, and other card games, was being played at a table provided in a local bar near to his new residence. Soon after being attacked, and the investigation began, they learned that another member of the same bridge group had been murdered and thrown in the nearby waterway.

As the investigation begins, Archie is assigned to begin living in the room vacated in the nearby hotel. Obviously Archie would interview the superintendent of the building management first, but got little from him about the other occupants. In fact, as Archie attempted to greet some of his new neighbors, none of them would interact. One pointed to his mouth as if unable to speak and hurried away. Another spoke brokenly but refused to enter into any conversation. The entire building had no chatter anywhere. Until one day Archie followed a man he had just attempted to talk to... The man was headed for the bar across the street. He followed. And saw the man in a, seemingly, argument with a man who he later learned was the bar's owner. Soooo, they could speak? Perhaps it was the language? The investigation continued but broadened into the bar...

Additional investigators began to repeat attempts for interviews in these two places to various levels of success...

But once the card player was determined to be murdered and thrown into the window, the wharf became a site to explore further... By this time people were willing to talk about their awareness that men were seen coming off of ships and quickly disappearing... Soon there was a question about being paid by immigrants to bring them into the U.S. illegally...

I know, I know, I'm giving away the ending by identifying that Nazis were being illegally brought into both the North and South America. I would not normally do this. But we all know that, beginning under the first term of office, it was clear that Trump had no concern about who supported him, including known white supremacists groups, including KKK and NeoNazis... Further, it could be concluded that on January 6th, many of those white supremacists groups were part of the January 6th Insurrection incited by this president as proven by the Special Counsel...

I have been unable to determine the copyright regulations. I have therefore added an excerpt with location source reference as I had earlier announced would be my effort to comply... I did learn that this book was published June 15, 2021. However, there were no stops by the book under the Amazon library software which, in the past, stopped me with warning that I had reached publisher's limit, which I have traditionally used to comply with copyright.

Although I am no longer willing to post on Amazon because of lack of trust at this time, I still want to provide my thoughts and opinions...

The use of fiction to actually teach history I have found to be a very valuable addition to what is learned in traditional public schools. Some also exceed university level due to timing of publication. This has been another act by the republican party to attempt to ban books to exclude information about the realities of what man has done to man by citizens in the past in this nation and is simply not to be accepted!

This book goes into detail of just how badly people are hurting whenever a war by an insane man can result in those who are criminally inclined and willing to take advantage of these people in order to make money. The use of blackmail was behind the criminals ultimately identified by Wolfe. We discovered that even the nazi members were being forced to pay a fee to travel to another country. Those poorer nazi members who undoubtedly were forced into the military by their authoritarian leader. These individual who were coming into the country were not only being forced to pay for passage, but were also pulled into new criminal activities in order to begin to earn some type of money to be able to live and hopefully find a job... If they weren't killed or arrested during their assigned violent activities.

The book in my opinion reflects the lives of those immigrants who are now being targeted and placed in government facilities which are being managed and paid for by the federal government. Reports show that they are hungry, not provided with proper environmental conditions, and have very minimal medical care. Including that children are separated if a woman is pregnant and the baby born within those facilities. I am not taking the time to find videos documenting this latest inhumane act by our federal government. The killings of citizens on the streets by masked men is sufficient to alert us that this group of hired thugs are exactly who are those who are willing to do what this president commands--whatever immoral act that may include.

Aside from the excellent writing and the work of Nero Wolfe's fascinating skill in solving mysteries, I found the criminal acts too old to be of significant difficulty or interest. The criminals were clearly identifiable based upon what the investigation presented to readers. The method of repetition ensured we grasped everything. That is, Archie would discover something. He would then report to Wolfe. Later they would also report to a police detective, and/or a newspaper reporter with whom they worked based upon trust... All the normal mode of communication in historical times...

The actual Wolfe Reveal was a fascinating ending... but then sharing that is a no-no for a reviewer. Hopefully what I've shared will give you enough of the idea about the book to decide for yourself whether you'd like to read it. I will not make a specific recommendation on this one. Other books by this author might not be so revelatory with the mystery, although I can't assume that given the repetitive office environment of the Wolfe PI Investigations. I did very much enjoy it, but then I knew Nero Wolfe before I decided to select the book. Take a chance if you're looking for a very unique type of mystery based upon the main character being award-winning regardless of different authors... Let me know what you think if you do read it!

Gabby

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