#A Nero Wolfe Mystery

[ladyphlogiston]

I figured out how to make Nero Wolfe gifs

Hehehehehehe

[notnursenightingale]

Among the kinds of men I have a prejudice against are the ones named Eugene. There’s no use asking why, because I admit it’s a prejudice. It may be that when I was in kindergarten out in Ohio a man named Eugene stole candy from me.

“Instead of Evidence” by Rex Stout

[ladysnowangel]

Summer reading: Fer-De-Lance and The League of Frightened Men (Nero Wolfe #1-2) by Rex Stout

[wheel-of-fandoms]

Probably Murder, She Wrote? My grandma watched it when I was a kid, and I would see varying amounts of it. (She was a big mystery fan in general) If you mean read/watched a whole book/episode, on my own not because someone else was watching it and I was there... Probably when I read an Agatha Christie book in like 7th grade I think? I believe that was The Murder on the Links. Which was Hercule Poirot. I don't watch or read mysteries too often on my own, but I do enjoy them at times if they are on. Especially Sherlock Holmes (Jeremy Brett/Granda), Hercule Poirot (ITV), and Nero Wolfe (A&E)

Time for a new poll! I'm curious to see the spread of answers on this one (and hear any other series not on the list.) Tried to go for a range of older and newer series on here, more on the older end of the spectrum, but I can't cover everything with the limited poll options here, so I hope you'll share your answers! :)

Please reblog for a larger sample size, thank you!

[mycroftholmesian]

The Golden Spiders (2000) 🕷️ 🔍

The Original TV Movie that spawned the “Nero Wolfe Mysteries” in 2001. Starring the Late Great Maury Chayin as Nero Wolfe and Timothy Hutton as Archie Goodwin as Rex Stout’s creations.

[scuffedgrannysblog]

Fer-de-Lance by Rex Stout (The First Nero Wolfe Mystery)

If you like murder mysteries that are well-plotted, revealed by degrees and involve eccentric and lively characters, Nero Wolfe is for you!

This was my introduction to a new author and new detective, courtesy of my good friend on Vocal, John Cox, who recommended Stout’s books. He was right to as well, as I thoroughly enjoyed it. I do love a good detective murder mystery and this was particularly quirky, mainly because of the character of Nero Wolfe but also because of the narration of Archie Goodwin, who is our guide through this…

[capncarrot]

And Be a Villain

[kef-meister]

Nero Wolfe: refuses to take the case, insisting his proclivity to solving a problem of such degree chafes against wanting to avoid 'petty extranational politics' happening over "a trust fund princess, married into the aristocracy; the lifeless eyes in that image testament to the jejune British Royal Family. Phooey!" The outburst doesn't stop Archie Goodwin from getting involved: "I'd dealt with socialites before, and it's all the more helpful to this 'non-case' that these non-Americans happen to speak English." -- ultimately leading to the two revealing Pippa Middleton as having masterminded the disappearance; death and replacement, using her public relations; socialite background and 'only' being the middle child to her advantage. The 'why' is never made clear. "Turns out I was right. Her calling herself an 'amateur photographer' via social media? Heir apparent to the throne wouldn't do that - only someone bitter enough that she herself ain't." - "Ah yes, the-the insipid murmuring of mankind congregating around a reconstructed Tower of Babel honoring an imbecile. What is that nonsense again? Twitter?" "Elon's calling it X now, sir." - "Phooey!"

The Kate Middleton mysteries, as channelled by Emery Robin (from here):

[esonetwork]

'Trouble In The Brownstone' Book Review By Ron Fortier

New Post has been published on http://esonetwork.com/trouble-in-the-brownstone-book-review-by-ron-fortier/

'Trouble In The Brownstone' Book Review By Ron Fortier

TROUBLE IN THE BROWNSTONE A Nero Wolfe Mystery By Robert Goldsborough Mysterious Press 246 pgs.

Every now and then we readers discover fictional characters and become totally enamored with them. Enough so that when their creators pass on, we hope other writers will take on those heroes and continue their adventures; most of which we refer to as pastiches. (Note – a term we totally dislike.) Now, regardless of your attitude towards continuations, it is all too clear some of these characters have come to belong to the world at large. When thinking of such, Sherlock Holmes immediately takes the number one spot. Since his creator’s passing, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of his new adventures have been written. Why? Simple, because his worldwide fans demanded more.

Thus is the case with Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin, the irascible characters created by the late Red Stout as his take on the Holmes/Watson duo. It was no surprise that they quickly became the darlings of mystery fans everywhere and when Stout passed away in 1975 it seemed the end for this delightful pair. Happily such was not the case when journalist/author Robert Goldsborough arrived to reopen the door to the famous Brownstone on West 35th St. and began writing new Nero Wolfe mysteries. In the past fifteen such, he’s related the first-ever meeting between Wolfe and Archie, taking us on a visit to Archie’s hometown and even had Wolfe come to Inspector Cramer’s rescue on a tricky case. It is these forays into the established character’s background that have made all of Goldsborough’s books a pure delight. Book # 16, “Trouble in the Brownstone” is no exception.

It begins with Wolfe’s orchid expert Theodore Horstmann being savagely beaten weeks after having left his rooftop apartment for new digs. Left in a coma from which he may never recover, Wolfe and Archie devote themselves to finding the perpetrators and bringing them to justice. This leads to McCready’s an Irish bar near the docks of the Hudson River. Archie soon learns the bar is frequented by foreign seamen most of whom reside at a five-story hotel across the street from the pub. Set in the months after the end of World War Two, Goldsborough’s plot centers around the plight of thousands of Displaced Refugees desperately hoping to immigrate to America. Thus the opportunity arose for unscrupulous opportunists in providing smuggling avenues for those people with the money to pay. How this connects with Horstmann’s fate is part of the complicated knot the rotund sleuth must unravel if the villains are to be exposed.

“Trouble in the Brownstone” is, as in its previous entries, a terrific Nero Wolfe story and as always, is a genuine homage to Mr. Stout. Here’s hoping Goldsborough has lots more stories coming our way. We eagerly await each and every one of them

[proverbiumseniorum]

"What good is a chain with a bad link?"---Nero Wolfe, fictional detective (Rex Stout, American mystery writer, 1886-1975)

[folkdances]

hello everyone! it's been long enough that we can do round two of good videos from me to you, where i list good youtube videos i've watched recently ^_^ there's essays and music and funnies and more beisdes, and the blue ones are ones i especially enjoyed. feel free to drop any recs in my comments and i hope you find something fun!

how feminism turns into fasc*sm

This Broadcast Gave Viewers Clinical PTSD

Our Houses of Lies

that time To Catch A Predator kinda killed a guy.

What is FASCISM?

The Myth of the Great Male Genius Needs to Die.

How to Perform an Exorcism

2021 '시카고' 프레스콜 We Both Reached For the Gun 민경아 최재림

Birds Do Not Sing in Caves

RASPUTIN: The Devil in the Palace

LOLITA: The Worst Masterpiece

Why Lolita is Impossible to Adapt into Film

Cycles of Violence in Sharp Objects

Frankenstein's Lobotomized Mistress: Dissecting the Poor Things Discourse

Why American Psycho is More Relevant Than Ever (And Why Women Love It)

The Mysterious Death No One Can Solve

A Deep Dive into the Horror-filled Production of The Wizard of Oz (1939)

The Scandalous Films of Pre-Code Hollywood

What Happened at Roopkund Lake?

"The Most Mysterious Finds Science Cant Explain"

Unmasking a Killer Serial Arsonist

The Hike That Killed Five Schoolboys

YouTube’s Oldest Horrors

The Story of Seahenge

The Island of WITCHES

The Unending Violence of Vincent van Gogh

Was Merlin a Real Person?

The Philosophy of Robin Hood

bumpin that

Song of Storms on an old-ass organ.

James Baldwin — I'm writing for people, baby (Meeting the man)

Rebuilt Antler Flute

There Are Mountains in the Clouds

phil ochs - the highwayman

EDGAR ALLAN POE: The Most Mysterious Death

Is the Myth of the Genius Director finally dying?

Why Are AI Generated Videos So Terrifying?

Shira Utagai - so faint reflection of you

It really is that damn phone

crime & punishment (animation)

What is Gothic? The Historical and Philosophical Origins of Goth and Gothic Horror

GUESS | animation meme

Going Out of Bounds in Google Street View

phoenix's OBJECTION but gently... (ft. edgeworth's "*hoho*")

Thelonious Monk - Live In Paris 1967

Great, now none of us can watch TV

GENGHIS KHAN: The Peasant Who Conquered the World

Cannibalism & Witchcraft: The True Story of "Hansel and Gretel"

Nero: The Monster of Rome

Sweet Sue - Paul Whiteman and His Orchestra - 1928 

Wikipedia's King who Doesn't Exist

Advice for time traveling to medieval Europe (+ qna)

MACHIAVELLI: Be the Wolf Among Sheep

The Search For D. B. Cooper

[imjustheretoseetheprivateblogs]

reblog to solve a mystery

[thequeenofbats]

So many people are doing such a great job of introducing Dead Boy Detectives to new audiences, so it's time to make my small contribution as well.

Fans of my oldest love, Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin novels, may I present to you my newest love?

In Wolfe and Edwin, you have:

The Brains

escaped the worst place imaginable on foot, with nothing but cussed determination and skill

reads everything

cantankerous as all get-out

fussy

downplays emotions

will only attempt physical violence when partner is threatened

believes partner to be The Charming One and himself to be Difficult With People 

That Vocabulary Though

believes police are useless for the kind of cases they solve

seems misogynist until you realize he just thinks everyone is an idiot

inductive reasoning via small observed details

While in Archie and Charles, you have:

The Brawn

will lighten the mood even if it kills everyone in this room goddamn it

acts easygoing 99% of the time

watch out for that last 1% though

actually smarter than he thinks he is

is not quite as charming as his partner believes, but still not too shabby

will wait patiently for his partner's Big Brain to solve everything, and just kinda pokes around in the meantime

knows when his partner needs his unconditional support

also knows when his partner needs a metaphorical kick in the ass

generous to a fault

willing to take cases that won't pay because they're morally right

deductive reasoning from broad knowledge of people

So please, if you enjoy this dynamic between characters as they solve strange mysteries, give this show a watch.

[ladykailitha]

The Promise

Just a little sweetness to break up the absolute angst fest I’ve been working on. I’ve have cried so many times writing the next few parts, my little romantic heart needed a break.

So I jumped on the “they met as children” bandwagon.

Or you can read it here on AO3

*

Eddie wandered around Steve’s bedroom as Steve went to answer the phone. He wasn’t surprised to see that the room held little personality. Not because Steve was a blank slate by any means. No, it was more that judging from what Eddie knew about Steve’s parents and the way they forced conformity on him.

So the book shelf was a bit of a surprise. Four neat little shelves crammed with books.

Steve opened the door and asked, “Hey, what are you doing?”

Eddie looked up from the bookshelf feeling caught out. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop. It’s just everyone says you don’t read, so the bookshelf was a bit of a surprise.”

Steve scoffed. “They only say that because I don’t read fantasy or science fiction. I read other stuff.”

“What’s wrong with either of those two genres?” Eddie asked, moving away from the shelf to sit on Steve’s bed.

Steve shrugged. “I guess I never found the right kind of fantasy, especially since you told me that there are so many sub-genres. I guess I got overwhelmed.”

Eddie nodded. Not every fantasy book was for every person. He would have to go through his books and find a nice variety for Steve and figure out what he liked.

“And what about science fiction?” he asked.

Steve wrinkled his nose. “I hate it. And I’ve read all of the supposed greats, too. Jules Verne, Isaac Asimov, Frank Herbert, Robert Heinlein, Ray Bradbury. They all spend so much time on the science that they don’t get to the fiction. And it hurts my head.”

Eddie sighed and cocked his head. He couldn’t fault that. “So what do you like?” Steve cocked an eyebrow at him and he laughed. “I didn’t get to read any of the titles before you came back.”

Steve still eyed him skeptically but came over to sit on the bed next to him. “I like biographies. Mainly sports but a couple historical figures too. Winston Churchill was interesting. Diary of Anne Frank. But mostly I like mysteries.”

“Mysteries? Really?” Eddie said lightly. “Will wonders never cease. So who’s your favorites?”

“I like Agatha Christie, of course, Nero Wolfe, Sherlock Holmes...” he trailed off. “The classics, I guess.”

“Nothing wrong with the classics,” Eddie said. “What’s your favorite Holmes story?”

Steve hummed. “I would say ‘The Adventure of the Silver Blaze’.”

Eddie frowned. “I don’t think I’ve heard of the that one.”

“It’s where a horse goes missing right before an important race and the trainer is found dead,” Steve explained, starting to talk excitedly for the first time since he caught Eddie going through his bookshelf.

“Whoa!” Eddie teased but Steve laughed. “Why do you like it so much?”

Steve blushed. “It’s one of the few times that Dr Watson finds an important clue.”

Eddie lit up with interest. “Yeah? What was the clue?”

“That the horse tracks start coming back about half way through.”

“And Holmes was so focused on seeing the clues in front of him that he forgot to look to the side?” Eddie guessed.

Steve nodded. “It’s really cool.”

“Now here’s the really important question...” Eddie said, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees. “Poirot or Marple?”

Steve who had leaned forward before Eddie asked the question, threw his head back and laughed.

“Poirot hands down!”

Eddie put his hands over his heart. “No! Say it isn’t so!”

“Afraid so,” Steve said with a grin. He leaned over the bed to pull out his favorite book. “Elephants Can Remember.”

“It’s about a girl who’s future mother-in-law wants to find out if insanity runs in the girl’s family because when she was a little girl her father was with her mother both found dead on the top of the cliff near their home. Was it a double murder? Murder/suicide? And if so, who was the one that killed them both, the mother or the father?”

“So this old bat comes to Poirot to find out?”

Steve nodded. “It’s really good.”

“Huh,” Eddie said. “That does sound interesting.” He began leafing through the pages when a piece of paper fell out. “What’s this?

Steve shrugged. “Just a piece of paper I use as a bookmark sometimes.”

Eddie eyed suspiciously. Steve was far too causal about this little piece of paper.

He turned it over. There was a circle around a heart and a little note that said, “This is the best ring I can do right now, Love E”

“What’s this?” Eddie asked, his breath catching in his throat.

Steve blushed. “The first person I ever kissed.”

“Eleanor Jackson gave you this?” Eddie asked. He had heard the story of course. Everyone had. How when Steve was ten Eleanor declared him to be her husband and would kiss him every day on the playground. Everyone thought it was cute. Personally, it made Eddie gag. Mainly because no one had asked Steve what he thought.

But Steve was shaking his head. “She was the first girl I kissed.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me, what?”

Steve looked down and began picking at a loose thread on his comforter. “I don’t even remember what his name was and since he only signed it as ‘E’ I guess I probably never will.”

Eddie looked down at the note again. “Tell me about this boy.”

Steve bit his lower lip. “When I was eight, my aunt took me out to one of the lakes to play on the beach. I don’t even remember which one. But there was this dark haired little boy making a sand castle too close to the water and would get frustrated every time a wave came up and destroyed his hard work.”

Eddie grinned. “Sounds cute. Even if he seems a little dim.”

“I asked why he didn’t simply move further up the beach,” Steve said, remembering with a fond smile. “He said that he had. Twice!”

“Oh the poor little bastard,” Eddie said, nearly doubling over with laughter.

“So I convinced him to make little soldiers instead for the waves to deliberately carry away.”

“Awww...” Eddie said. “Did he agree?”

“We made a game out of it,” Steve said. “Who could build the fastest army before the wave came back.”

Eddie was cackling now. “So who won?”

“He did by a landslide,” Steve said. “I could only manage to make three or four but he made ten!”

Eddie shoved his hair in his mouth to try and stifle the laughter. “Oh god, you are so competitive. How on earth did you handle that?”

Steve tipped his head back and sighed. “I pouted.”

“Of course you did,” Eddie said.

“It’s how I got my kiss though,” Steve said. “So I really couldn’t complain.”

Eddie tilted his head to side. “And how did that work?”

“When he saw me pouting, he kissed me,” Steve murmured. “Said that he had seen his mom do that with his dad when his dad pouted.”

“Cute!” Eddie said giggling.

“I kissed him back in retaliation,” Steve said. “He was just so sweet.”

“He really sounds like it,” Eddie said softly, looking down at the note. He crossed his legs and looked up at Steve. “When did he give you the note?”

Steve mirrored his position. “Just before him and his parents left. He told them he had forgotten something. He rushed back to me and gave me the note.”

“That’s real sweet, Stevie,” Eddie said. “So you just told everyone it was from Eleanor Jackson and kept it safe all this time.”

Steve nodded. “Everyone thought it was so sweet that she wanted to marry me, but I hated it.”

“Because you were already engaged to someone else,” Eddie teased. “Oh my what would Nancy think? You were cheating first!”

Steve protested, “Hey! It wasn’t like that!”

Eddie grinned. “I know, big boy. I’m only teasing you. You look so pretty when you blush.”

Steve pouted.

Eddie leaned over and pressed his lips to Steve’s.

Steve gasped. “Eds?” he asked, unsure.

“I learned that from my mom,” Eddie whispered as he worked a ring off his right hand. “Sorry it’s late, darlin’, but I finally got you a better ring.”

He slipped on Steve’s ring finger on his left hand.

Steve stared at the ring on his finger in awe and something softer, more dear.

“Did you know the whole time I was tell the story that it was you?” he asked, suddenly shy.

Eddie shook his head. “Not at first. I didn’t remember the sand castle or the little soldiers. Remember the kiss, though.”

Steve looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Yeah?”

“Of course I remember the first person I ever kissed, Steve,” Eddie cried. “Like you, I didn’t remember the boy’s name. I don’t think you ever said.”

Steve blushed. “Probably not,” he admitted still shy.

Eddie kissed him again and Steve melted into it. “So pretty boy: gay or bisexual?”

Steve frowned for a moment, thinking. “I want to lean more to toward bisexual because of Nancy, but the more I think about our relationship and how we are much better as friends, I start to wonder. And then there’s Robin. What straight or bisexual man suddenly stop having feelings for a girl just because she said she liked her own gender?”  

Eddie nodded. “You’ve dated women pretty exclusively, did you feel anything for any of them? A spark, a floppy feeling in your stomach?”

Steve shook his head. “The closest I ever got to that was with Nancy. I was happy with her. Maybe no sparks or fireworks or anything like that, but she made me happy. So I thought that’s what love was.”

Eddie smiled, “And now?”

“Happiness is just a start,” Steve said, pulling Eddie back for another kiss.

Eddie grinned against Steve’s lips. “Well you make me pretty happy.”

Steve looked down at the ring on his hand. “We haven’t even dated and we’re already engaged,” he said with a laugh.

Eddie moved to sit next to Steve and picked up his hand to admire the ring. “I didn’t think I would find you again. And even when I entertained those thoughts, I would come up with scenario after scenario where we hated each other because we become such different people.”

Steve blushed. “My nightmare scenarios where were I found you again only to find out you were already with someone else. Or you tell me that it was a youthful indiscretion and that didn’t mean anything.”

Eddie kissed the ring gently. “Turns out we were both wrong.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m glad we met when we did, Eds. Again, I mean.”

Eddie cupped Steve’s cheek with his other hand. “Why’s that, sweetheart?”

“I think our nightmares would have come true,” Steve said softly, closing his eyes and leaning into Eddie’s touch. “Only it would have been me telling you it was a youthful indiscretion so Tommy would still like me. And then we would have hated each other. And I can’t stand the thought of that. Not now. Not now that I’ve gotten to know you.”

Eddie smiled softly. “I know what you mean, baby. And I’m grateful, too.”

Steve kissed him again and let Eddie lower them on to the bed.

“You’re so beautiful,” Eddie whispered. “You were beautiful then and you’re even more so now.”

“I love you, Eds,” Steve murmured. “I think I always have.”

Eddie grinned. “Me, too,” he murmured against the skin of Steve’s neck. “Me, too.”

[hoboblaidd]

you taught me how to protect myself. // from asharen, you know? rift magic and all, she wouldn't have found this field of magic that she adores without solas

It had not been without its difficulties, building anew his network of agents and informants. When last Solas had done this, he had known the territory of the war intimately. He had been born of its earth, walked nearly every corner of the Empire, and knew the disparate dialects of its people. 

Now, he was at a disadvantage. He did not know this world with the surety of the last, but he was learning. Prideful he may be, but he was not so arrogant as to think he could learn its pathways on his own. 

Solas had agents now across Thedas. They were not as numerous as during his rebellion, but their experience was varied and specialized. He had agents within the Dalish sect that called itself ‘Veil Jumpers’, who espoused somewhat more enlightened views on Elvhenan than their brethren in the south. He had spies among the Mortalitasi, friendly spirits who reported on the activities of the death mages. He had even made inroads with the Shadow Dragons of Minrathous, though more by virtue of his habit of freeing slaves he encountered than any coordinated effort of infiltration on his part.

And he had an agent in the Crows.

Chiara, a young elf who had been 'saved' from the streets of Antiva City by a 'recruiter' from House Nero. She had a gentle heart ill-suited for assassination, and recruiting her to his cause had been easier than it should. She yearned for freedom, and the oppressed elves of the north were starting to see it in the Dread Wolf's banner.

Now, however, she shuffled her feet nervously in the dimly lit office that floated above this impossible hideout in the Fade. She was no mage, and stepping into the Crossroads was as foreign to her as other mortals. The Lighthouse now was more mystery than beacon of hope. But it was not the Fade which caused her wringing hands as she gave her report. It was the unyielding stare of the man she reported to.

Solas sat deathly still at his desk, and uttered no word as she continued. The only indication of any emotion was his tightening grip on his pen. He did not speak for a long moment after she had finished and began stealing glances at the door.

“The Crows executed a contract on the Inquisitor,” Solas summarized. It was not a question, and an utterly unnecessary restatement, but he said it nonetheless. Better to try and work through it then blast the roof off of his office, as he very much wished to.

“They tried to,” said Chiara, “but they failed.” She made only the briefest eye contact before looking once again at the floor. "She used powerful magic and then she disappeared, they think."

The pen snapped in his hand. He should be better at controlling his emotions.

“Crows do not abandon contracts, correct?”

“That’s - right."

“And if the contract is rescinded?”

“If the client withdraws it, then it doesn't really count as an abandonment by the Crows.”

“And should the client die before the contract is fulfilled?”

“It…would depend on whether they had paid in full.”

“I see,” he said around gritted teeth. “Thank you,” he added. “It was good of you to bring this to my attention. The Inquisition, and the Inquisitor, are not our enemies. They may be opposed to our cause, but they are only doing what they believe to be right. They are worthy of our protection, where we may give it."

"Of course," she said. He sat again in silence, and Chiara took the opportunity to make for the door.

"Chiara," Solas called, and she paused at the door. "Get me the name of the client, please.” He would handle them personally. If they still lived, it would not be for long.