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Dwayne Navrone has a problem. He loves his wife Mavis, but he has been swept off his feet by the figure perfect Jennifer Bailey. All was well however, as long as Jennifer was content to be his once a week squeeze, but predictably, she wants him full time. How to solve the problem becomes Dwayne’s main concern. If he divorces Mavis, she will retain a considerable amount of their wealth, and Jennifer does not seem as if she will be cheap to maintain. Mavis’ death, assuming it cannot be traced to Dwayne, would be a better solution.
The difficulty of bringing about Mavis’ death is resolved through Jennifer’s astral counselor (a.k.a. shrink), Calvin Harris. Harris and his colleague, Ambrose Ruffle, will kidnap Mavis from her place of employment, the financial aid office of Lyndon Johnson Community College in New York City. This action will preclude Dwayne’s possible association with the crime.
Since neither Harris nor Ruffle has ever seen Mavis, Dwayne provides a can’t-miss scenario. Predictably every day after her lunch hour at 1:45 pm, Mavis visits the ladies’ room. She has a distinctive handbag that she always takes with her on this little jaunt which Dwayne describes in great detail. Unfortunately, unknown to Dwayne, a co-worker of Mavis, Gloria Sheaham, has recently purchased an identical handbag, and the kidnappers snatch her by mistake. Naturally, things go from bad to worse and what ensues is a comedy of errors.
What commences as a caper reminiscent of Donald Westlake’s Dortmunder takes on a more sinister tone with the murder of Gloria Sheaham. What sort of people are Calvin Harris and Ambrose Ruffle? Supposedly both are former priests, charged with the mission of directing people’s souls, but evidently, something has gone horribly wrong.
Ralph McInerny is an accomplished writer who chooses and uses his words with precision. The correct and imaginative use of language makes The Ablative Case well worth reading. He anticipates that his reader has a vocabulary beyond grammar school level and interjects wry humor by concurrently using different meanings of the same word. Jennifer asks as she reads the information off a diploma hung on her counselor’s wall, “What’s divinity?” He replies, “a white sweet candy that melts in your mouth and does not satisfy your hunger.” Mr. McInerny invites and encourages his readers to exercise their minds.
The Ablative Case, while ostensibly about a man with a mistress, a wife and a problem, poses several questions about the ethics and morals of lapsed clergymen. Appreciating the author’s ties to the Catholic Church, this book focus on former priests, but I suspect such problems are not unique to that religion. There is plenty of material within the covers of this slim volume to invite contemplation and discussion.
As a mystery novel read for plot alone, The Ablative Case is pretty standard fare. It is easy to predict what will happen next. Indeed, in many cases the reader is already aware of the situation though the characters are still in the dark. Since the points the author wishes to make are only tangentially related to the plot, the omniscient reader is not really a problem, but if you are looking for escapist literature, you would be wise to pass this one by.
--Andy Plonka
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