"Clean up your act, Joker."- Batman: The Animated Series (The Last Laugh)
I'm
familiar with the term "hobby deformation" and the symptoms that escort this
twist of the mind that makes us, devoted mystery enthusiasts, associate Gaston Leroux and A.A. Milne with Le Mystère de la chambre jaune (The
Mystery of the Yellow Room, 1907) and The Red House Mystery (1922)
instead of La Fantôme de l'opéra (The Phantom of the Opera, 1910)
and The House at Pooh Corner (1928), but never expected that a simple
news item about a zoo, who're expecting their first baby flamingos in over a
decade, would direct me to my shelves to pull out my unread copy of H.R.F. Keating's Inspector Ghote Plays a Joker (1969).
Not at all how I imagine Ghote! |
The
much-plagued inspector of the Bombay police, Ganesh Ghote, is summoned to his
superiors and asked to play the fool in an almost impossible task: protect the
last remaining flamingo left in the Bombay Zoological Gardens. The birds were a
gift from the American Consulate and a sniper has been picking them off, one by
one, and, sure enough, Ghote arrives just in time for his assignments swan
song. But worst of all, the epitome of incompetence, Sergeant Desai, will lend
him an "assisting" hand in his inquiries, however, it's this same incompetent
fool who puts Ghote on the trail of the joker. Desai knows that three months
previously a popular racing horse was substituted for a donkey and uncover that
a malicious prankster is picking on the proud and prominent members of society.
Among the
victims who involuntarily played the fool are a scientist and the owner of the
racehorse, Anil Bedekar, all of whom prefer to forget their embarrassments, but
with his superiors breathing down his neck for results, Ghote pushes through
and finds an unexpected ally in the Rajah of Bhedwar, known to his friends as "Bunny" Baindur, who fancies himself an amateur detective. He drags Ghote along
to watch the yogi Lal Dass perform a miracle in public, walking across
the surface of a brimful water reservoir, exactly the kind of place where the
joker would strike, which he does, and Dass is saved thanks to the rapid
intervention from Ghote. I have to point out that, before this happened, Dass
walked on water and Keating provides the most simple and logical explanation
for this miracle and thus qualifies as an impossible crime novel – even if it’s
only a tiny fraction of the plot and immediately supplies a solution.
The joker
is pulled from the pack halfway through the game, but most of the readers will
have picked up on that punch-line before its delivered, because this person is
exactly the kind of opponent Keating likes to pit against Ghote: affluent,
influential, powerful, smart and charismatic. Pretty much the exact opposite of
the timid detective and this series is at its best when Ghote is barking like
an underdog at a towering tidal wave. It seems futile, but, somehow, he manages
to come out on top and prefer the cat-and-mouse games of Inspector Ghote
Goes by Train (1971) and Inspector Ghote Draws a Line (1979) to the "solved-by-inspection" novels like Inspector Ghote’s Good Crusade (1966)
and Filmi, Filmi, Inspector Ghote (1976). I have said this before, but I
shall say it again and again and again: Keating was at his best, as a mystery
writer, when he wasn't writing mysteries. As Wakko Warner once famously
observed, "the mind boggles."
Anyway,
back to the review, where the book, incomprehensibly, contorts itself into a
regular police procedural when Ghote's opponent is murdered just when an interesting
development had presented itself: how can he stop the prankster now that he knows
this persons identity? They even had a confrontation, in which the joker
wondered out loud how Ghote was planning to put a stop to all the tom foolery.
It would've made for a classic Keating novel! This book is a good demonstration
of Keating's strength and weaknesses (a wonderful and promising first half vs. duller
second half), but I prefer to watch Ghote overcome seemingly insurmountable
odds when he takes on influential town bosses, stubborn ex-judges and cunning
master criminals. They tend to be more fun, but walking the beat of Bombay alongside
Ghote never feels like a chore.
I was just reading Inspector Ghote Breaks an Egg, oddly. Planning to blog that one next week.
ReplyDeleteOdd would've been if you had picked up the book as arbitrarily as I have done. :)
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