"Groucho Marx and his writer Frank Denby have made a name for
themselves as detectives. In fact, in their last case, they were able to outsmart
Sherlock Holmes, or at least the actor playing him. However, both men play down
their sleuthing abilities and to escape their new reputation, Groucho agrees to
perform in a Broadway play and Frank accompanies his wife on a business trip.
When Groucho learns that Frank and Jane are going to New York via train he
decides to join them, figuring it will be a nice relaxing journey. However,
murder and mayhem somehow follow them across the country. First, before even
leaving for New York they are approached by a local mobster who firmly believes
that the recent murder of his associate was not a mob hit. He asks them to look
into the matter and Groucho suggests that he try "Philip Marlowe, Dan
Turner or some other Hollywood shamus" even though "they don't have our
track record...or a strawberry birthmark right here." From there, things
only get more interesting. On the train they meet Dian Bowers, the newest star
of Daniel Manheim, a domineering Hollywood producer. A series of bizarre events
unfolds on the train, including an attempt on Manheim's life. When they arrive
in New York, Groucho agrees to escort Dian to the premiere of her estranged
husband's play, but the play never makes it into the second act because a body
is discovered on stage. When Dian's husband becomes the prime suspect, Groucho
and Frank once again find themselves playing detective."
While I can appreciate that Ron Goulart changed things up in the
fourth book of his Groucho Marx detective series, it does features some
(intentional?) ill-conceived running jokes like him singing Lydia, the Tattooed Lady from the forthcoming 1939 Marx Bros. film At
the Circus and the multiple times
someone suddenly recognizes Groucho only to be met with a barrage of
insults. It gets a bit repetitious, even if some of the jokes will make you
chuckle. The whodunit part is a bit light and not very compelling –though we’ve
seen a lot of movies and TV series that have featured a more convoluted murder
plot.
Still, you don’t
read these books for the clever murders. It’s more or less a romp featuring a
fictionalized Groucho Marx spouting off terrible puns and being a smart-ass. At
least in that part, Goulart succeeds.
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