“… And I’m really going to need for you to leave us now. Sitting at someone’s table without being invited is rude.”
“Let me tell you something,” I said, helping myself to her toast, “I’ve been called rude many times and I’ve never believed it. I’m a lovely man. I think when someone calls me rude it’s because they don’t want to talk to me. And the only reason someone wouldn’t want to talk with me is because they have something to hide.”
I’ve expressed the opinion here before that a lot of the best series detective characters are wish-fulfillment figures. Hard-boiled private eyes tend to have lives their male readers dream of having. I assume female detective heroes (which I generally don’t read) fulfill a similar function for women.
William Doonan’s Henry Grave, hero of Mediterranean Grave (sequel to Grave Passage, which I reviewed a couple days back), is a new kind of wish-fulfillment hero, in my experience. He’s pretty much the guy I’d love to be (but am sure I won’t be) when I get old. Older.
84-year-old Henry Grave works as an investigator for an organization of cruise ship owners. His professional technique is reminiscent of Peter Falk’s Columbo character on TV, playing the clueless bumbler who disarms suspects to the point where they get sloppy and make mistakes. Harry takes that game up a notch by presenting himself as a semi-senile, deaf, nearsighted old codger. This method allows him to have a very good time while doing his job, drinking heavily, eating about every five minutes, and flirting with every pretty girl he meets. And yet, when it comes to a showdown, Henry Graves is Shiva, the avenger without mercy.
In Mediterranean Grave, Henry finds himself aboard the cruising yacht Vesper, an unusually small and elderly ship catering to New Agers. The ship is anchored in the Greek archipelago when the story begins. An Egyptian policeman, on board to guard a priceless archaeological artifact, has been found murdered in his cabin. The artifact, an inscribed cup that gives the promise of being a Rosetta Stone for the heretofore undeciphered Minoan language, has disappeared.
Henry proceeds to investigate in his signature fashion, saying anything he darn well pleases and going anywhere he darn well likes, and when he gets in trouble either playing the age card or pulling rank. His shamelessness sometimes makes me laugh out loud, but his serious heart occasionally moves me deeply.
Cautions for adult themes (one male character who abandoned his wife for another woman is described as a “good man,” but I don’t look to Henry for moral wisdom). At $2.99 for a Kindle download, I’d say the Henry Grave mysteries are about as good an entertainment deal as any books you’ll find. After mine, of course.