With the third installment of many series, you can see the author settling into the world he’s creating and while there are hints of it, Stout’s been pretty at home since Day 1–he just adjusts the furniture a bit in The Rubber Band.

I have a pretty good sense of history, but it consistently throws me when someone in an early 20th century novel makes a reference to something in their recent past (or, in this case, the past of their parents) which is straight out of a Western movie. I can look at the dates all I want, do all the subtraction necessary, and realize it’s fitting, but I can’t accept it. Doesn’t matter how many times I try, I just can’t. Which is a cryin’ shame, cuz it makes it harder for me to get through the opening chapters of this novel than it should.

Regardless, this is a fun read. You’ve got Wolfe facing off with the District Attorney and Police Commissioner, Wolfe hiding a client from the police–also featuring the introduction of Lt. Rowcliffe, who will become a favorite punching bag of this dynamic duo, some interesting back and forth between Wolfe and clients/witnesses, a good revealing of the criminal to an assembled crowd in Wolfe’s office, and best of all, a woman staying in Wolfe’s home. Archie doesn’t tell us yet how nervous this makes Fritz (that’s a standard line that will come up later), but it is clearly a novelty.

The central client to this piece is Clara Fox, the aforementioned female guest. She’s one of the top 5 female characters in the corpus. She has every male who spends ore than a few minutes with her eating out of her hand, and from what Stout tells us about her, she earns it. Often when you come across a character like that, I just don’t get the appeal (naturally, an example escapes my mind), but Ms. Fox is an exception to that rule.

I’m finding it difficult to summarize the plot without a lot of spoilers, so I’ll just quote the back of my bantam edition and leave it at that.

What do a Wild West lynching and a respected English nobleman have in common? On the surface, absolutely nothing. But when a young woman hires his services, it becomes Nero Wolfe’s job to look deeper and find the connection. A forty-year-old pact, a five-thousand-mile search, and a million-dollar murder are all linked to an international scandal [a fairly inaccurate and overly sensational conclusion to that has been removed]

I didn’t try to write down the quotable lines in this one, tho’ there were plenty. There’s really only one that matters. Clara Fox, the adventuress, sums up life in the brownstone so succinctly, so perfectly, that it’s impossible to look at The Corpus without reflecting on it. You also have to admire someone who could go toe-to-toe with Archie with that quip on the end.

You know, Mr. Goodwin, this house represents the most insolent denial of female rights the mind of man has ever conceived. No woman in it from top to bottom, but the routine is faultless, the food is perfect, and the sweeping and dusting are impeccable. I have never been a housewife, but I can’t overlook this challenge. I’m going to marry Mr. Wolfe, and I know a girl that will be just the thing for you, and of course our friends will be in and out a good deal. This place needs some upsetting.