December 8, 2003

FMAM Mostly Mystery Reviews

Double Endorsement
by Andrew McAleer
171 Pages
Protea Publishing - July, 2003
$16.98 Trade PB/$27.98

I laugh at Andrew McAleer. I'd laugh in his face if he were here. Why not? He's a funny guy. Dont believe me? Read his debut novel, Double Endorsement.

In its entirety, Chapter 1 reads, "James P. Hillton could have gotten fat on Wall Street like his old man, but like most rebellious Harvard boys, he became a private investigator instead. This is his story."

Hmm... Now Hillton and I are about the same age. Most of the rebellious Harvard boys I know, knew, or will meet once again in a few weeks at a high school reunion tried getting fat off Wall Street. Which is too bad, because, unlike Hillton, they seem to have ended up with less hair and more alimony. I could only assume McAleer, himself a rebellious Harvard boy, had his tongue firmly planted in cheek.

He does not disappoint on that front. Hillton is a, like so many of his fictional counterparts, a wise-cracking PI. Whereas his fellow Beantown eyes Spenser, Cuddy, and Kenzie smolder with righteous indignation at the world around them, Hillton is generally indignant when his hockey game is interrupted, which it is as the story begins.

His biggest client, Madeleine V. LaCroix, summons him to her office to assist on a case. LaCroix is a tough, sixtyish lady who still smolders with sexuality (and probably righteous indignation, though she never really shows it.) Her client, a nurse named Virginia Doyle, thinks she may be an accomplice to murder. It has to do with lying on a medical exam and the unfortunate recent demise of the policyholder.

So, does Hillton start brooding about the state of the world? Does he call his mysterious, violent sidekick to prowl the undeworid for clues? Actually, he hires pretty law student Sophia out from under LaCroix. And why not? LaCroix just fired her as her secretary, and Hillton needs the help. After that, he stows his hockey gear. After all, a private investigator must perform due diligence.

As Hillton dives into the case, one might get the impression of stumbling into a rerun of The Rockford Files. He doesn't carry a gun, just loads of BS. And what a BS'er he is. He convinces witnesses that he's a philosophy student, an activist for wetlands, a state bureaucrat, and, in one particularly funny scene, an interested beau for a gay wine store clerk.

Critics and blurb artists have been giving a lot of attention to LaCroix as half the book's central pair, but it's really Sophia who steals the show. She starts out as a bit of a ditz, mostly due to a lack of self-confidence. Bolstered by Hillton's encouragement (and flirting, which eventually pays off), she develops a backbone and becomes a worthy foil for him.

That's not to take away from LaCroix. She's formidable in her own right, and near the end of the story, takes the ball from Hillton several times. It's been said that she's Nero Wolfe to Hillton's Archie Goodwin, but she's more like Perry Mason in a supporting role. (If Perry Mason had kept his girlish figure at that age. Hmm...) With Sophia in the picture, the story compares more to Nick and Nora Charles, only randier and more subversive.

Stylistically, I had problems with how Hillton and LaCroix were presented. McAleer, whose prose is otherwise quite good, constantly refers to his protags as "The defense attorney" or "the private investigator," and uses their full names more often than is necessary. It could be his way of spotlighting his two central characters, but it actually sounds a sour note in a well-played jazz tune. It would have been enough to simply say "Hillton" and "LaCroix," followed by the appropriate pronouns throughout the rest of a scene. I found it distracting, though not enough to throw me out of the story.

I certainly hope this is the start of a series. It's been implied that it is. I have one request of Mr. McAleer. Bring back Sophia. Instead of being the annoying girlfriend, she's part of the team. If anything, she out-Hilltons Hillton by the end of the book. And someone has to keep an eye on that boy. LaCroix can't do it by herself.

Reviewed by James R. Winter