My recent sampling of the work of Herbert Brean left me with a hankering for more Gotham-centered mystery. And when you want a taste of New York, what better place to stop than West 35^th Street, home of that orchid-loving, gargantuan grumpy genius, Nero Wolfe, and his girl-magnet sidekick and everybody’s favorite Watson, Archie Goodwin. These days, however, Archie’s senses are more attuned to middle-aged women. Maybe it’s because Rex Stout’s immortal duo premiered in 1934 (Fer-de-Lance) and today’s pick, The Doorbell Rang, was published in 1965. But no, Archie is ever youthful, still has an eye for the young cuties, and still is dating the irrepressible Lily Rowan. 

It’s just that, when it comes to spilling the tea, the middle-aged dames in this novel are more forthcoming. And this time, Archie and Wolfe need that information fast because they are dealing with an enemy more powerful than ever before. No assassins from Montenegro, no crime boss named Zeck – this time the enemy is the government, and more specifically, an endless supply of faceless government agents led by a paranoid, girdle-wearing dude named J. Edgar Hoover!

I am lucky enough to have the entire collection of Nero Wolfe writings thanks to a generous impulse from my friend and fellow mystery fan, David Issel. I picked The Doorbell Rang for two reasons: author and publisher Jeffrey Marks once listed his five favorite Wolfe mysteries for Mystery Scene, and this was his #1. Also, what with all the political travails lighting up my TV screen and my recent foray into the Hollywood Blacklist of the 1940’s-50’s, I was in the mood for a good political “David vs. Goliath” tale. (Although picking who is who between Nero Wolfe and Mr. Hoover may not be as easy as you think!)

The plot of this novel may be pure fiction, but its genesis is rooted in truth. Throughout his life, Rex Stout was devoted to liberal causes. He served a term on a censorship board for the ACLU in 1925. He was a rabid supporter of FDR and the “New Deal,” lobbying for President Roosevelt to accept a fourth term. He was fiercely anti-German during WWII and cut down his time writing mysteries to focus on producing anti-Nazi propaganda broadcasts. Sadly, he also supported FDR’s decision to inter Japanese-Americans in camps. 

Stout was not a Communist. In fact, he had helped to start a radical Marxist magazine and then quit when he realized it was a front for Communism. Still, according to Wikipedia, his decades of political work led the head of HUAC (the House Un-American Affairs Committee) to label him a Communist, at which Stout is reputed to have shot back, “I hate Communists as much as you do, Martin, but there’s one difference between us. I know what a Communist is, and you don’t.”

J. Edgar Hoover also believed that Stout was either a Communist or one of their American tools, and he ordered the FBI to keep a close watch on him. Evidently, Stout’s file at the Bureau grew by a third when he wrote The Doorbell Rang. Professionally speaking, though, Stout’s timing couldn’t have been better. The year before had seen the publication of journalist Fred J. Cook’s scathing expose on the Bureau, The F.B.I. Nobody Knows. The book arrived at a time when the Bureau was coming under great criticism for investigating leaders of liberal causes, like Martin Luther King. If you go to Amazon and read some of the contemporary reviews of “the Cook Book,” you can obviously see what a controversial organization the FBI was, is, and always will be. 

I can only imagine how much fun Stout was having when he took “The Cook Book” and made it the impetus for The Doorbell Rang. Wolfe is visited by wealthy widow Rachel Bruner, who after reading The F.B.I. Nobody Knows, went out and bought ten thousand copies:

“I sent them to the members of the cabinet, the Supreme Court justices, governors of all the states, all senators and representatives, members of state legislatures, publishers of newspapers and magazines and editors, heads of corporations and banks, network executives and broadcasters, columnists, district attorneys, educators, and others – oh, yes, chiefs of police.”

And now, it seems, Mrs. Bruner finds herself being investigated! At least, she feels like she and the people in her employ are being followed and her phones tapped. Mrs. Bruner is more incensed than intimidated by this, and she is willing to pay Nero Wolfe a $100,000 retainer and all expenses and then let Wolfe name his fee if he successfully completes the task set before him. And all he has to do is stand up to J. Edgar Hoover and the entire F.B.I. and make them cease and desist in their harassment of Mrs. Bruner and her circle. 

I imagine that Rex Stout himself must have felt the occasional moment of paranoia, knowing himself to be a target of the Bureau. He pours all that feeling into this novel and then leavens it with his sharp sense of humor. At the start, Wolfe sputters at the insanity of his client’s request, while Archie panics because he knows how tempting all that money is to Nero Wolfe. With a fee like this delivered at the beginning of the year, Wolfe wouldn’t have to work until well into the summer; instead, he could spend all his time with his beloved orchids in between the delectable meals that Fritz Brenner concocts for him. 

From the start, however, the underlying presence of the Bureau gets under the skin of our heroes: an immediately paranoid Archie takes to sleeping on the couch in Wolfe’s office to guard the files, makes numerous trips to drug stores and garages when he wants to phone someone without being overheard, and forces Wolfe into the indignity of meeting in Fritz’ bedroom in the basement for updates since there’s less of a chance that the Bureau’s surveillance equipment can penetrate to the townhouse’s underground floors. 

A typical Nero Wolfe mystery (and let’s face it, most of them are pretty typical) involves a fanciful setting and a half dozen or so suspects, one of whom gets to dance with Archie before they all end up sitting in a circle before Wolfe in his office for a final reveal. The Doorbell Rang is a bit more sprawling at first: Wolfe conceives of a plan to find some powerful dirt against the Bureau by investigating as many of their New York cases as possible. This leads to the case of Morris Althaus (fed to Archie by a surprising source), a young journalist who was murdered just as he was about to publish an exposè on the F.B.I.. Witness testimony has opened up the possibility of the Bureau being involved in Althaus’ murder, and it is on this premise that our team follows its investigations. 

No one can accuse Rex Stout of writing great puzzle mysteries. That is not why you pick up a Nero Wolfe novel. You pick up these books because of that magnificent creature, Archie Goodwin, and for the fabulous mythology built around Wolfe and Goodwin over the course of seventy or so cases. Even after so many years together, when the pair know each other so very well, their relationship remains as prickly as it is endearing, and often hilarious:

“(Wolfe) does not believe that I can take a girl to the Flamingo and dance a couple of hours and end up with all her deepest secrets, but he pretends he does because he thinks it makes me try harder.”

I won’t pretend that the mystery aspects of The Doorbell Rang are up to par with the usual: they aren’t. There are barely any suspects. Archie breaks into a place, finds some evidence, and spots the killer even earlier than usual. But this turns out to be a different sort of case. By the midway point, it begins to resemble an episode of Mission: Impossible, the hit TV-series that the novel actually pre-dates by a year. Our heroes conceive of a plan to trick the FBI which involves a very upset Fritz cooking for a group called the Ten for Aristology, who were first introduced in the novella “Poison a la Carte”. (Warning: the solution for that tale is revealed here.)

So go into The Doorbell Rang not for the whodunnit but for the adventure. Does Nero Wolfe put eggs au beurre noir on the face of the F.B.I.? Does he ever confront J. Edgar himself? Does Wolfe come out on top? My lips are sealed! But, considering how much this book thickened Rex Stout’s file at the actual F.B.I. . . . . . what do you think? 

The novel was dramatized several times for the various TV series (two American, one Italian). I watched the one with Maury Chaikin as Wolfe and Timothy Hutton as Archie, since The Doorbell Rang was actually chosen as that series’ premiere episode (and it’s readily available on YouTube. It is almost page-by-page faithful to the text and cast with unbelievable fidelity to Stout’s characters. (Even the G-men appear onscreen exactly as described on the page.) I’ve never been wholly convinced by Chaikin as Wolfe (not larger-than-life enough for me), but Hutton grew on me here and did a terrific job as well directing the episode. 

One final note: actor John Wayne was a huge fan of Rex Stout and Nero Wolfe. He was also a staunch conservative, devoting much of his late-career efforts in support of HUAC and the Vietnam War. He refused the lead in High Noon because he thought the script was too “pinko,” and he publicly denigrated the film after it was released, calling it “the most un-American thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life.” When The Doorbell Rang appeared in condensed form in Argosy magazine, Wayne read it and sent a personal note to Stout: “Have always enjoyed your Nero and Archie, but I read your story in the April issue of Argosy. Goodbye.”

You didn’t lose much there, Mr. Stout.