“Language, Lilac!”: Dead No More (Rhubarb Papers Book 1) by Pete Adams
(Gumshoe – A Next Chapter Imprint, 2021). ISBN: 9781034490845
“I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to
our liberties than standing armies.” —Thomas Jefferson
With this opening epitaph, Pete Adams had me hooked. As the
US Federal Reserve (neither Federal nor a Reserve) buys up all it can at a
bargain under the banners of Qualitative and Quantitative Easing amid whispers
of a trillion-dollar platinum coin Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen could use to
avoid a government shutdown, even some old-money families like the Rockefellers
in West Virginia are chiming in to say “The Fix Is Fully In.”
Dead No More opens
with a car fire that kills two police officers—a mother (Dawn) and daughter
(Carol)—and facially scars their granddaughter/daughter, Juliet. Carol’s
husband, who is “something in the City,” which is code for a man of importance,
is also killed.
It’s clear that the two officers were murdered because they
were working on a case involving high-level families and government players who
control the financial institutions and key development sectors in London. The
police databases involving the conspiracy as well as the conspiracy itself employ
a host of food-related code words, like Rhubarb, Vanilla, and Crumble, based on
plot-related French and German words decoded as the narrative unfolds. The
police database—a case archive—is further coded with words like Mammon
(signifying greed). It is a smoking gun worth infecting with viruses, hacking
into, and even killing its contributors and administrators to keep secret.
The central characters are Nakka, Juliet’s grandfather, an
inept mounted police officer and eccentric reminiscent of the Lionel Jeffries
character in the film adaptation of Chitty
Chitty Bang Bang who lives in a house that, along with his horse, he could
have bought from Pippi Longstocking. The central female character is Debbie
Smith, a talented detective dubbed “Lilac” because of the color of her clothes.
Nakka’s sister-in-law Lisa, a real hoot, is another important
character.
Nakka’s wife Dawn was a Scotland Yard Detective Inspector
and a real looker. Out of his class in every way. Their daughter Carol, one of
three, rose even higher in the ranks. As a result, Nakka is always trying to
prove himself worthy and rarely succeeding.
We also meet a cast of kooky, horny police people, with
names like Grace, Swallow, Barmy, Bong, and Brandon. Their scenes are somewhere
between Monty Python and Animal House, with plenty of lively, off-color
language. The working-class vernacular and rough talk/manners of most the
characters ups the fun, like Bond and Co. on magic mushrooms. Indeed, Dead No More is resplendent with voices
in the head and clever wordplay.
With plenty of legitimate stakes (the body count steadily
increases) Dead No More, through its
quirky characters and lively language, operates similar to an adult film where
everyone is attracted to and sleeping with everyone, irrespective of gender,
and the central female character makes her rounds with just about everyone. It
is in these moments, coupled with the high-level corruption and secret
societies “more secret than the Masons,” that Dead No More reads like Robert Anton Wilson and William S.
Burroughs’s government conspiracy novels.
Bodies begin to pile up at Special Branch and in an
ever-widening circle of those connected to the conspiracy, including—and how
could we do without them?—Vatican intelligence services, one of the greatest go-to
tropes of the international tongue-in-cheek (and elsewhere) adventure-thriller
genre.
In the third act, we meet the main family behind the
conspiracy, replete with a history full of Eton, Saville Row, and the like.
With names like Justin Thyme and Van Esther, they delight in their nefarious
activities, calling them the Path, the Game, and good old-fashioned world
market manipulation. Their family history, steeped in Germanic roots (of
course!) makes for a delightful, witty read.
It is here the plot really ratchets up, with a scene
reminiscent of the Holiday classic Home
Alone, and plenty of quirky adventure tropes to keep the pace pumping along
toward the conclusion.
The book has several endnotes that identify links to some of
the author’s seven other books, some of which are connected to this story
universe and its cast of kooky characters. There is also a parenthetical “buy
my books for heaven’s sake, as the Cardinal of Westminster said, agreeing with
Mary Poppins” moment, to which I say:
Buy these books indeed.
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