Sherlock Holmes & COMPANY
The Adventure of the Laughing Fisherman by Jeffrey Deaver
Sometimes it’s overwhelming: the burden of knowing that the man you most admire isn’t real.
Then the depression that you’ve fought all your life creeps in, the anxiety. The borders of your life contract, stifling, suffocating.
And so slim Paul Winslow, 28, was presently walking into the neat, unadorned office of his on-again, off-again therapist, Dr. Levine, on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
“Hello, Paul, come on in. Sit down.”
Dr. Levine was one of those shrinks who offered basic armchairs, not couches, for his patients. He spoke frequently during the sessions, wasn’t afraid to offer advice and asked, “How do you feel about that?” only when it was important to know how his patients felt. Which was pretty rare.
He never used the verb “explore.”
* * *
Art in the Blood by Laura Caldwell
When the reporter from the Post, a young woman with a garishly severe haircut, tried to tell him that the Gargeau he’d sold last month was a fake, Dekalb swallowed his disgust, took his bone china cup out of her hand and asked her, as politely as possible, to leave his office. Drew Dekalb VanWerden was his full name, but he preferred Dekalb. And Dekalb did not take well to contradiction or confrontation, certainly not from the Post.
The reporter had gotten an appointment by telling his assistant, a boy named Tad who would now have to be fired, that the Post wanted to do a profile on him. Movers and shakers of the art world, she’d apparently said. “A follow-up to Art of the Blood.”
She had clinched his interest with that comment. The decades-old article in the New Yorker, naming him as the Sherlock Holmes of the art world, was still the favored link on his web site. The moniker was one he’d gladly accepted.
In the Company of Sherlock Holmes publishes in one week, November 11. You can pre-order a copy from:
Poisoned Pen Books (signed by Laurie King, Les Klinger, and others)