Books: Fletch's Fortune by Gregory McDonald (1978)

 

"He hadn’t been a practicing journalist for years, although people remembered him and he still has a few contacts. And he’s pretty sure he hasn’t paid his dues to the American Journalism Alliance anytime recently. But somebody has. Enjoying himself on the French Riviera, developing a killer tan, and sleeping with the neighbor’s wife, Fletch is feeling pretty flush. But when agents Eggers and Fabens show up with a little more information about Fletch than is comfortable and an invitation to the A.J.A. convention, how could he refuse? So he finds himself enlisted as a spy among his peers. But before he can even set up his surveillance, there’s a murder. And almost everybody’s a suspect. Because a lot of people were employed by Walter March, and most of them had a reason to hate him."

 

Fletch’s Fortune, the third, but chronologically the seventh, volume of Gregory McDonald’s mystery series plays out like an old Agatha Christie whodunit, where a bunch of people come together at a hotel where someone is murdered and everyone has a motive, has he means, and as it turns out, can all be suspects. The problem here is that the book is somewhat dull, despite fun dialogue and farcical setting. As I’ve noted before, McDonald’s portrayal of Fletch changes from book to book, and here he’s still the playboy with ill-gotten money (Fletch), but he’s also somewhat of a ridiculous peacock, walking around shirtless, and is being clearly written as the smartest man in any room. Also, I’m not sure I agree with the way McDonald framed the story –the bugging devices given to him by the CIA were a bit too convenient for the information they revealed. Then again, he was not a cop or even a reporter, but these passages revealed not a lot of information. Still, I suppose, in those old Agatha Christie novels, these exposition scenes would’ve played out with rumors and people spying on others.

A bit of a disappointment, but still better than most.

Books: Confess, Fletch by Gregory McDonald (1976)

While this is the second book written about I. M. "Fletch" Fletcher, from a chronology standpoint, this is book 6. So the events in this tale take place after Fletch (1974), but this is not a direct sequel, just an episodic tale. As noted last my last review, McDonald intended Carioca Fletch (1984) to follow the first book, but held off until he spent some time in Brazil to get the feel of the country and its legendary Carnival (though I’m sure he didn’t think it would take 10 years to do that). There is no mention of Fletch’s Brazilian adventure here, beyond him mentioning he’s lived in Brazil and other locations for the last 18 months or so, but he’s now settled in as an art critic, living in Cagna, Italy and engaged to be married (again). By the way, at the end of Carioca Fletch, the reader sees our intrepid former reporter heading off to Italy (he had stolen dome $3 million dollars from the first adventure). Anyway, his fiancée is the daughter of an Italian Count who has been kidnapped and murdered recently. Fletch is dispatched to by her to Boston to recover painting which were stolen from the family a number of years ago. Upon arriving in Boston he discovers a naked female dead in the apartment he is borrowing. With police on his back hounding him to confess, Fletch must discover the real murderer while trying to locate his fiancé’s family’s painting. Compounding matters is the fact that the inspector assigned to the murder, Francis Xavier Flynn, is Fletch’s intellectual equal.

In some ways, Confess, Fletch is a better book (which won McDonald his second Edgar Award), more clever and more complex tale. Yes, it’s still somewhat funny, snarky, and has a wicked dry wit to it, but overall, a more serious mystery (very Donald E. Westlake execution, as well, with equal doses of Dortmunder and Parker within these pages) with lighthearted undertones. Flynn is a great character and the interplay between Fletch and him is the best part of the book –which is probably why McDonald spun Flynn off (though I hear the first two are the best, with three –and especially- four showing how McDonald became more conservative as he aged). I can now see, as well, why these books have some detractors. The latter books (especially the prequels) really changed and altered the circumstances of Fletch  -he is living the high life on that stolen money from the first book. I can see now why McDonald went back to writing about poor Fletch in the three prequels and the original title. He found that character more fun to write. It’s an easy read, with fun characters, a well-developed mystery, and witty lines.

Books: Fletch By Gregory McDonald (1974)

“Fletch is undercover, posing ‘as a down-and-out beach bum among the drug-ridden human wreckage of a sunny California beach.’ Millionaire industrialist Alan Stanwyck, unaware that Fletch is merely posing as a derelict, approaches him with a bizarre offer: the man tells Fletch that he is dying of bone cancer and wants to avoid a slow, painful death. Fletch accepts $1000 in cash to listen to the man's proposition; the man offers him $20,000 for the murder, and Fletch talks him up to $50,000 in an effort to see if the man is serious. He appears to be sincere, and Fletch begins investigating the man's story in between investigating the drug story on the beach and hiding from the two attorneys after him for alimony for each of his ex-wives.”

Fletch is the actual first book in the series, and the winner of the Edgar Award, but is chronologically the fourth book. As noted before, a lot of Mcdonald’s book is told through dialogue, which flows smoothly, and can be less daunting for readers who don't favor over long descriptive passages; this style sometimes comprises whole chapters, which is nice as well. But, in a couple of spots, as I discovered in the three prequel novels, I think Mcdonald revels too much in this sort of info-dumping prose –so much, that they begin to stretch the believability of the set pieces. Yes, McDonald writes I.M Fletcher with supermodel good looks -thin, handsome, tanned (when not barging in on people at posh clubs, the character spends a lot of time shirtless, in shorts, and barefooted), and maybe people feel comfortable enough to talk to confident, good-looking people like this, but these folks fork over a lot of personal and intimate information to a complete stranger way too easily. Still, maybe McDonald the journalist encountered this during his years at the Boston Globe, so maybe this comes off as fact.

It’s also clear that this novel is coming from the pulp detective genre, where 1985’s Fletch Won and 1986’s Fletch, Too were seemly penned in the style of the 1985 movie version, which cleaned up the character and situations considerably. In this book, Fletch is more of a cynical anti-hero, who thrives on chaos, than the smooth talking, sort of likable, disguise wearing version of the character that Chevy Chase played (which was a more “loose” version; the plot is basically the same, but the script did take some liberties). Here, in this early book, he's more of an all-round douche, especially to his two ex-wives (Barbara and Linda) and to Frank Jaffe, his editor. He also openly hates Clara Snow, his boss (and love interest of Jaffe) and insults her anytime he can –insults that would get him fired today.

One of the other liberties the movie version took was the sub-plot dealing with a 15-year-old runaway girl named Bobbi, who is turning tricks for heroin and is shacked up with Fletch (who, by the way, says he’s 29 now, up from 24 in Fletch Won. A lot happens to him in five years!) while he’s undercover trying to find out who’s dealing drugs to folks like Bobbi. Their relationship is not explicitly sexual, but it's implied in a few places, particularly when Fletch tells Jaffe, that he'll do anything for his story. I can see why this was dropped from the film version. 

Overall, this is a good book, smart, dark, and overly sure of itself. While McDonald next published Confess, Fletch in 1976, in 1984 he published Carioca, Fletch which is set between the two. That's coming up next.