Richard Matheson’s esteem by his fellow pros surpasses his reputation, considerable as it is, with the reading public. Noir: Three Novels of Suspense (G&G Books, 3601 Skylark Lane, Cedar Rapids, IA 52403; $65), with an introduction by Matthew R. Bradley and an afterword by Ed Gorman, is a 500-copy signed limited edition comprising three of his paperback originals: Someone is Bleeding (1953), Fury on Sunday (1953), and Ride the Nightmare (1959). The last is the best, but all three are gems of pure suspense — comparisons with Wool-rich and Hitchcock aside, the versatile Matheson is unique.
**** Carolyn Wheat: Troubled Waters, Berkley, $21.95. Brooklyn lawyer Cass Jameson looks back on her student radical years in one of the best and most even-handed mysteries to deal with the ’60s’ peace and liberation movements, weighing their positive and negative effects from a presumably wiser middle-aged perspective. It’s also a terrific whodunit. Wheat’s Mean Streak was a deserving Edgar nominee for best novel of 1996. This one is even better.
*** Max Allan Collins: Mommy, Leisure, $4.99. The book version of a successful independent film, written and directed by Collins, is a direct sequel to William March’s classic 1954 novel of psychological suspense, The Bad Seed. In the film, the grown-up Patty McCormack this time plays a murderous mother — her first name isn’t given, but we all know it’s Rhoda — whose child is suspicious of her. You can enjoy this well-calculated novel without knowing The Bad Seed, but only by reading the two novels in tandem can you appreciate how cleverly Collins has reversed March’s situation. (Handily, The Bad Seed is available in a new edition [Ecco, $9.95] with a fascinating biographical introduction by Elaine Showalter. The subject matter of a murderous child and repressed memory makes it surprisingly timely.)
** Ellen Hart: Murder in the Air, Ballantine, $5.99. An old private-eye radio show is revived, its scripts resembling a notorious St. Paul murder case of the ’50s. Hart’s promising premise and nice finishing surprise are not helped by excessive length. (Amateur sleuth Sophie Green-way’s talk-show host husband could use a good call screener.) ** Janwillem van de Wetering: The Perfidious Parrot, Soho, $22. Though now independently wealthy, the Amsterdam trio of Grijpstra, De Gier, and the Commissaris are manipulated into going to the Caribbean to discover the fate of a hijacked oil tanker. The local color is fine as ever, but the passages of philosophical water-treading are too plentiful. If you’re a fan of the series, read it, but anyone using this as an introduction to the series probably won’t be back.
Erratum: In my Sept./Oct. column, I reviewed a novel by Jonathan Kellerman called The Clinic (Bantam ’97). Unfortunately, I attached to the review the title of the author’s previous novel, The Web (Bantam ’96). My apologies to Dr. Kellerman.
Marital Maneuvers
by Stephen Wasylyk
© 1997 by Stephen Wasylyk
A sad note must accompany this story; its author, Stephen Wasylyk, a contributor to EQMM for more than 20 years, died in the fall of 1996 at the age of 73. We have one more of his witty, down-to-earth stories in inventory, to be published later this year. It is our hope that a kook publisher will someday bring out a collection of Wasylyk stories, for his talent was unique.
When Gilbert Stinson Sterling III decided to get rid of his wife Gloria, he devoted no more than ten seconds to thoughts of divorce.
As the last surviving member of a long line of methodical people for whom monetary profit or loss was always the basis for a major decision, he was aware that divorce would deprive him of all her money, a horrifying specter that numbed his mind and made his brandy glass tremble, since her money was one reason he’d married her.
Indeed, the further thought that a divorce might well cost some of his own brought a moan of pain.
He had no choice. This was one marriage that had to end with “till death do us part.”
The thought wasn’t entirely pleasing. It had not, after all, been a bad marriage; off to a roaring start, with Gloria gracing his arm at social functions with the beauty and poise only to be expected of a Sterling. A truly handsome couple, everyone said, and so suited to each other. The sex hadn’t been bad, either. While the grand passion had dimmed, a lingering affection remained, which to his embarrassment, occasionally surfaced.
But floating to the top of the motive mix was the increasing difficulty of keeping one step ahead in the subtle daily strife inherent in matrimony; borne good-humoredly by half the population, but intolerable to those who pursued an idyllic marriage. Seldom finding one, of course, their quest enriching the portfolios of divorce attorneys, worthy people who recognized early in law school the lucrative opportunity presented by unfulfilled dreams.
Their daily spousal skirmishing had fostered a paranoia in Gilbert that everything that happened to him was the result of one of Gloria’s insidious and vindictive plots. That these plots would stretch credulity to its outermost limits bothered him not at all. Gloria was capable of anything.
He was exceedingly weary of his matrimonial equivalent of the Hundred Years War, particularly since he felt he was losing more battles than he was winning.
There could be no cease-fire, armistice, or détente.
Gloria had to be nuked.
The unimaginative police, however, were notorious for placing the surviving spouse first on the suspect list. The problem would have to be approached with all the ingenuity and planning skill he’d inherited from his forebears, among whom were two generals who had never lost a battle, along with a few tycoons so adept at skimming the assets of a corporation none had ever been indicted by a grand jury.
He swirled his brandy smugly. He’d settle once and for all exactly who was in charge here.
While swirling his brandy and plotting her demise, Gilbert had no idea that Gloria was engaged in the same process. For all the same reasons. After all, their personalities had been determined by virtually the same backgrounds — the only difference being that Gloria was descended from two admirals who had never lost a naval engagement, along with a slew of politicians so adept at manipulating the system not one had ever been censured by an ethics committee.