The Hesitant Detective
and The Wreck of the Allard
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
“That's why I'm here now; I don't want to be a
detective. That's why I talked to May. I'm tired of this bothering me.
Hell, I'm always thinking about it. I'm dreaming about it. Then add to it that sonofabitch trying to
run me off the road the other night. He
even threatened my life, at least I think he did. I’m just not cut out for this kind of thing. I'm a
photographer. I make a picture record
of stuff. That's all I want to
do."
"You think he threatened your life. You can’t tell?”
"I may have imagined it. That's what I mean.
Frankly, it's none of my business.
If you're right about your suspicions -- you know, about someone fooling
around with the Allard, and I think you are, then it's your responsibility to
talk to the cops. It is your
business. This guy, the one who did it,
if it is a guy, is dangerous. Normally,
I'm not afraid. I've boxed and wrestled
in school, and I had combat training in the Army. But this guy gets you when you're not looking. And he might have it in for me, by now --
maybe you too. And now it looks like
Loecher could somehow be tied into it.
I don't know, and I don’t want to know.
I wouldn't want something to happen to you – I mean who would take care
of Dad's Continental and my MG - and feed Jaguars rope?
"That's why we have cops. We pay high taxes over here so we can have some protection. If Loecher isn't able to do something, or
not going to do something -- and we really don't know what he's going to do, do
we? Anyway, that's why I went to see
May.
“Now, I'm going to concentrate on my photography business,
and my car. And maybe, if it isn't too
late, I can patch things up with your daughter.” He let that rest a bit, then: “You got suspicions, then you talk
to the cops. That's it."
The Rabbi looked at Basil, then as a smile formed, he pulled
a cigarette from his shirt pocket. “For whom the bell tolls, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"The poem Hemingway used, you know for the title of his
book: For Whom the Bell Tolls. It's a
little thing by John Donne. No man is an island. No, wait, The tolling bell's what it's called. You know: 'Each man's death diminishes me' is what
the thing is all about:
No man is an island,
entire of it self.
Each man is a part of a continent.
and I can't remember the rest except:
Therefore, never send to know
For whom the bell tolls.
It tolls for thee.
"Fritz was a friend, as well as a customer -- I mean
you have to be pragmatic. But, I liked
him. I usually like people who like
cars. I like you. If anything happened to you like that, I'd
want to know something was being done to catch whoever did it.”
“Thanks," said Basil,
"that’s just what I needed to hear right now.”
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Book Details
About the Book
January 1953, the peaceful resort town of Palm Beach. Fritz de Graat is killed driving his
Allard. The wrecked car is towed to
Aaron Furman's, (Palm Beach's only Jewish auto mechanic). Examining the car Furman suspects the wreck
was no accident.
Furman tells Basil Simms (the "Hesitant
Detective"), a young professional photographer, his suspicions. Basil doesn't want to get involved. But then things begin to happen. Basil continues to vacillate between doing
anything or staying out of it, but keeps getting in deeper, spurred on by
events, curiosity and conscience. When
someone tries to kill him he finally talks to a police detective, thinking to
be done with it.
Furman explains the meaning of "For whom the bell
tolls". They decide do some
"detecting". Basil tries to
flush answers from Fritz's, handsome and apparently nymphomaniac
stepmother. Narrowly avoiding seduction
He solves the mystery, with a good "photographer's eye", combat
training and chutzpah.
Wanless describes the book as a "Lite" murder
mystery, an entertainment. The book is
peopled with lively funny people and nice surprises.
About the Author
Robert
Wanless grew up in West Palm Beach, Florida; worked for his aunt in Palm Beach,
and took pictures. Now he lives in
Pennsylvania where he reads and writes books and gripes about everything being
different from when he was young. Two
of his three cookbooks have sold well.
Wanless,
A dashing, charming, old man, was not raised Catholic but became one. He was, in fact, baptized at St. Ann’s by
Fr. Joe LeRoy S.J. who also had the distinction of having baptized Tennessee
Williams).
The
only thing Wanless actually shares with Basil Simms are his good looks which,
sadly have faded over the years -- but then doesn’t everyone's?