Customer Reviews

Danse Macabre

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3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

DANSE MACABRE is the second book in the series featuring blind violin teacher and reluctant member of the human race, Daniel Jacobus. In this book, Daniel has almost willingly journeyed from the Berkshires in Massachusetts to Carnegie Hall in order to attend the farewell concert of fabled violinist Rene Allard. Allard is retiring to his native France and Jacobus, more or less happily, agrees to attend a private party at Allard's home after the concert.

Accompanied by his best friend, Nathaniel Williams, and his student, Yumi Shinagawa, Daniel arrives at the Bonderman Building to learn that Allard has been murdered in a manner both grotesque and grisly. Inspector Malachi, the investigator in Daniel's previous brush with the law, is playing the same role in the death of Rene Allard. Daniel was a frequent visitor to the Bonderman Building when he was active in the classical music world. Daniel, Nathaniel, and Yumi decide to accompany Inspector Malachi to talk with Sigmund Gottfried, the elevator operator who found Allard's body. Ziggy was a fixture of the building, even living in the basement, and Daniel and his friends find him distraught over the death of the Maestro. Before they have finished consoling Ziggy, a witness comes forward and names the killer.

B'Tower, a young violin virtuoso who was a huge crossover hit, is identified as the killer, seen standing over Allard's body with blood on his hands. At the trial, Daniel is called as a character witness for Allard and by the time Daniel and the press are finished, Allard is shown to be a cross between Mother Theresa and Gandhi. B'Tower, birth name Shelby Freeman, Jr., is cast as the jealous musician who, knowing he can never be as good as Allard, attacks him in a jealous rage. In record time, B'Tower is found guilty and sentenced to death.

A week before the scheduled execution, B'Tower's attorney is desperate. Despite the conviction, the prosecution could never show how Allard was murdered and the murder weapon was never found. Rosenthal plays on Daniel's sympathies and his experience as an unjustly accused murder suspect. Daniel remembers all too well how a man can be made to look guilty even when he is innocent. Although B'Tower has ordered his lawyers to cease pursuing an appeal, Daniel decides that he has an obligation to take another look at the man he helped convict and that means he has to take another look at Rene Allard.

As Daniel, Nathaniel, and Yumi examine the life of Allard the man, rather than the icon, they discover someone quite different from his public persona. Fraud, greed, envy, and long-buried sins are revealed; secrets are exposed. And the reader even learns about differences in naming musical notes.

Gerald Elias has made Daniel more likable, more human in this second book. Daniel even displays a sense of humor. He and his friends are eating at a French bistro in Salt Lake City. "Maurice Chevalier was now singing `Thank Heaven for Little Girls.' Jacobus called the waiter over and asked if they could play some Marcel Marceau. The waiter said he would ask."

Jacobus grows on the reader; he is a very different kind of hero. The author, a well-respected musician, teaches the reader about the violin, classical music, and the world of those who reach the upper levels of that world, making the information a necessary and entertaining part of the story. I am looking forward to the further adventures of Daniel and his band of enablers, Nathaniel, Yumi, and even Inspector Malachi, the nice people who help the not very nice Daniel function in the world outside his cabin in the woods."

This is an excellent murder mystery, of particular interest to anyone with an appreciation and/or knowledge of classical music. Mr. Elias writes well and his characters are convincingly drawn. A fine job, over all, that continues the excellent start Mr. Elias made with his first book, "Devil's Trill."

BUT...

As a previous reviewer wrote at length, the courtroom scene is absurd and completely unrealistic. Apparently Mr. Elias did not have a criminal lawyer review that chapter. The previous reviewer has gone into detail about the procedural and evidentiary absurdities in the "two maestros" murder trial. I would just add two more. First, Mr. Elias appears to be under the impression that the absence of any physical evidence linking BTower to the murder, and the lack of any explanation of how the deceased was actually murdered, would be grounds for reversing the verdict on appeal. Not so. There was ample circumstantial evidence for the jury to render a verdict, including a witness who saw the defendant standing over the corpse with bloody hands, and under standard appellate rules, that verdict would have been upheld on appeal. Appellate courts rarely second-guess jury findings of fact if there is "more than a scintilla" - i.e. a very tiny amount - of evidence to support the verdict, and there certainly was here.

Second, at one point Cy Rosenthal, BTower's lawyer, says that he and his client were confident of a reversal on appeal. No competent lawyer would be that confident of a reversal on that fact scenario; it would be a very long shot at best. I am assuming, of course, that the defense waived all the other errors previously pointed out by failing to object to them at trial. Although come to think of it, BTower might have been able to get a reversal by arguing incompetence of counsel.

One final problem - this one a medical one, although I am not a doctor. The description of the deceased's body was that his head was almost completely severed, held on only by a flap of skin at the neck. And yet, the deceased somehow had the ability to adjust his hand and fingers with such minute precision that he could spell out, in fingering positions, the name of the murderer. I think this is highly unlikely, given the extent of the injuries, which would have severed or at least severely damaged the nerve connections between the head and the body. Did Mr. Elias consult with a neurologist to see if this were even possible? If he did, and if the neurologist said it was, I withdraw my objection.)

Still, once past the trial, this is an excellent mystery, and I highly recommend it. And BTW - even Agatha Christie got her first courtroom scene wrong, in "The Mysterious Affair at Styles." It happens to the best!!

Someone murders internationally renowned French violinist Rene Allard following his farewell appearance at Carnegie Hall. The police arrest Allard's former top protégé and rival African-American superstar BTower. The crossover musical legend BTower is convicted of the homicide of his ex teacher as he was seen near the body, had blood on his hands; and testimony by eye witness Mabel Bidwell and blind violinist Daniel Jacobus. BTower is sentenced to death.

His lawyer Cy Rosenthal needs help to overturn the capital punishment conviction. As he appeals the case, he persuades reclusive music teacher Daniel that justice was not served and to investigate the homicide as he has solved a previous murder mystery (see Devil's Trill).

The case of the "Two Maestros" murder mystery is an enjoyable amateur sleuth tale starring a malapropos musician who reluctantly investigates a string of broken violins. The story line is leisurely paced so is not for everyone and why a blind amateur albeit with musical knowledge rather than a horde of professional private detectives seems odd. However, those readers who relish an entertaining look at the music world inside an investigation will enjoy Allard's farewell performance in the Danse Macabre.

Harriet Klausner

Gerald Elias has a knack for telling an exciting, engrossing mystery story. Both his "Jacobus" novels to date are excellent mysteries. He is good with words, has a superb knowledge of the world of classical music within which his mysteries unfold - far more than mere musicology, he has in depth knowledge of the good, the bad and the ugly of the whole professional, classical scene. Elias is very skilled at character development and spins an excellent plot. However, he is WAY out of his element in the courtroom. He has to be penalized a star for not knowing his limitations.

Danse Mcabre opens with the murder of a world famous violinist, allegedly at the hands of another world famous violinist, and moves quickly to the criminal trial. Mr. Jacobus, to whom we were introduced in Elias's previous novel, Devil's Trill, is called as a witness for the prosecution. I began to suspect Elias was winging it jurisprudence-wise when he placed Jacobus as a spectator in the courtroom while waiting to take the witness stand. It is highly unlikely that a lawyer (particularly one defending in a high profile murder case) would ever allow a prosecution witness to sit in the courtroom and hear opening statements or listen to the examination of other witnesses before he or she has testified.

The next clue that the author was lax in his research of courtroom reality was when he put Jacobus on the witness stand and had the prosecutor ask him, "do you think the defendant, in a fit of rage, could have been capable of killing Rene' Allard?" It is hard to imagine a seasoned prosecutor risking a question so objectionable, which, if permitted, would almost certainly create reversible error. More importantly, no defense attorney in a real world, high-profile murder trial would remain in his chair upon hearing such an improper question and no judge in the real world would permit a witness to answer it. It would guarantee a mistrial or a reversal on appeal. It is a no-brainer that the defense attorney would be on his feet barking objections, but Mr. Elias negligently leaves the defense silent. Most judges wouldn't even wait for an objection to a question that bad but would disallow it, sua sponte, yet the Judge is evidently also in the author's pocket. In Elias's story, not only is the witness free to answer this and other similarly bad questions; he is even instructed by the prosecutor to repeat his inadmissible answer, A LITTLE LOUDER THIS TIME, to be sure everyone in the court heard it (the witness hollers "YES.") If that isn't enough, the death blow to any possible suspension of disbelief for the reader comes next when Jacobus is asked to explain to the jury WHY he imagines the defendant was capable of killing the victim. Still the defense sits mute. The whole scene is absurdly punctuated when the court spectators erupt with laughter at Jacobus' witty explanation for his inadmissible opinion - STILL there is no objection from the defense table in a high-profile murder trial.

Fiction of this kind does have to be believable. Actually, from the facts of the story, Mr. Jacobus is not even a competent witness in the case. There is no foundation for his testimony. He has no relevant evidence to offer on the issues being tried. This chapter of the story is simply too improbable and unbelievable in any real world situation to keep a knowledgeable reader in a state of suspended disbelief.

Unfortunately because of the absence of believability in the courtroom scene, the author loses credibility with any reader who has any knowledge of the rules of evidence. He would lose credibility not only with readers who are lawyers, judges or other professionals who know their way around a court of law, but possibly even readers who follow Greta or who watch prime time crime dramas or even those who can remember what they learned from watching the O.J. Simpson trial.

An example: A prosecution witness is called to testify that he observed the accused having a heated conversation with the murder victim and ASSUMED that the accused was having a "hissy fit," at the same time admitting he had not heard a single word of the "heated conversation." We then have the following exchange between the prosecutor and the witness:

Question by the prosecutor: "why would [the accused] have a hissy fit?" (Admittedly, it's funny but in the real world there would be prompt objections here because the witness is being asked to guess or speculate on the defendant's mental state. It's a gross error - not a subtle one. The witness is not testifying to render expert psychiatric opinions. It is outlandish on three counts: the question is sadly improper, the witness is completely incompetent to answer it and there is no objection from the defense table.)

Answer: "Envy, I SUPPOSE." [Emphasis added.] It is an example of the kind of patently inadmissible supposition for which the author expects us to sit still and, incredibly, Elias also lets this go without an objection from counsel, without a motion to strike, without anything remotely believable written into the story line at least to balance the absurdity - not even a cross-examination by the defense lawyer. Oddly, Mr. Elias seems to be aware that an "assumption" on the part of a witness is objectionable because later in the same chapter, he has the defendant's attorney objecting to a different witness's testimony on grounds that the witness had made "an assumption." This proves that the trial writing is not only illogical, uninformed and unbelievable, but also inconsistent.

By such carelessness in the courtroom chapter, Mr. Elias asks a lot of his readers.

I decided to read on, despite the author's errors and in spite of my disappointment and I gradually became completely absorbed again by the story, it was such a good mystery once I got past the courtroom scenario. Elias is talented enough that he can miss notes and play wooden through the first movement yet redeem himself completely by the finale. (He will recognize the reference.)

It has to cost him a star, though. With a few hours work by someone competent in the courtroom, those defects would have been avoided quite easily and without doing any violence to his plot. In fact, some care in the courtroom could have helped the plot. It's a shame he didn't go that extra mile. I would much prefer to have given it five stars.

Gerald Elias, author of "Danse Macabre," is a symphony violinist, professor of music, and composer. In his second novel, Elias brings back the semi-retired, chain-smoking, and sarcastic Daniel Jacobus, a blind and aging curmudgeon who instructs a handful of carefully chosen students. He hates "onstage theatrics and offstage politicking," and misses the days when musicians were willing to work tirelessly to hone their skills. Jacobus insists, "Good taste is what lasts." In addition to his teaching duties, when the opportunity arises, Daniel uses his prodigious knowledge and keen insight to solve crimes.

The corpse of eighty-one year old René Allard, a virtuoso violinist, humanitarian, philanthropist, and bon vivant, who was planning to retire after performing his final concert in Carnegie Hall, is found "frozen in a strange position on the carpet" near the elevator in midtown Manhattan's Bonderman Building. His "neck must have been crushed with great and sudden force," but no murder weapon is found. Detective Al Malachi is on the case and, based on eyewitness testimony, arrests BTower, also known as Shelby Freeman, Jr., a young African-American violinist who was Allard's protégé and bitter rival.

At the behest of BTower's defense attorney, Cy Rosenthal, Jacobus leaves his hovel in the Berkshires and, along with his friend, Nathaniel Williams, agrees to look into Allard's death. Daniel interviews Sigmund Gottfried, who has operated the ancient elevator in the Bonderman Building for fifty years, a chatty neighbor named Mabel Bidwell, and BTower himself, who appears to be unconcerned about his fate.

This is a quaint and talky novel in which the violence occurs mostly offstage. Although Jacobus is an amusing enough character, the dialogue is rather stilted and the contrived and cluttered plot is way over the top. Elias throws in everything but the kitchen sink: sexual assault, theft, fraud, poisoning, and a riff about underground life in New York's subway system. The explanations of what happened to whom and why are incredibly complicated, and the artificial suspense that the author generates does little to enhance the narrative. The story comes alive mostly in the passages that deal with rare violins, exquisite and evocative musical compositions, and the qualities that separate a technically adequate performance from an inspired one. Elias is undoubtedly a proficient and knowledgeable musician, but he still has a thing or two to learn about composing fast-paced and engrossing mysteries.

this rendition of a magic piece of music brought much knowledge and enjoyment to a family member in the dramatic world of music