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Verified Member MouthShut Verified Member
Thrissur India
For Die-Hard 'Sheldon' fans I SAY !!
Dec 02, 2013 09:06 AM 3033 Views
(Updated Dec 04, 2013 05:20 PM)

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As far as Hollywood-based thrillers are concerned there’s none better than "Sidney Sheldon", the man with the best insiders-eye viewpoint in & around Hollywood IMO & one who went on to write some quality film screenplays, TV serials & suspense novels ranging from the period 1940’s to the 1980’s.


I first heard the name Sheldon, when I was doing my B.com graduation back in Kerala & it eventually struck a chord on me like a hammer on the nail. Sheldon’s terrific oeuvre includes classics such as “Tell Me your dreams” & “Master of the game” not to mention “Stranger in the mirror” & “The Bachelor & Bobby Soxer” - for which he has won an academy award for best original screenplay in the year 1947.


I chose to read & review a somewhat less-known/more-recent work of Sheldon only because the conventional wisdom says – "It’s always best to start from the scratches, rather than aiming for the bleachers‘'. Keeping that in mind, let me warn you straight away – this ain’t vintage Sidney either way you look at it.


The  is pretty much routine stuff here highlighting a statue of an  & quoting out  who hails Sidney as a ‘’Master storyteller" but unlike Sidney’s aforementioned works; this novel is an extrapolated work by the London Born Journalist/ Author- “Tilly Bagshawe” who also comes in the so-called Sheldon breed not to demean any creativity thereof. Has Sidney and Bagshaw pulled off another masterpiece in Angel of the Death.? Let’s find out…


Angel of Death began with a small poem, from Robert Gilberth’s “Azarel”, which so striking & brooding – you can’t take your eyes of it.


“*His Wings are Gray & Trailing,


Azarel, Angel of the Death,


And yet the souls that Azarel brings,


Across the Dark & Cold,


Look up beneath those folded wings


And find them lined with Gold.*”


The story kicks off in an old billionaire named Andrew Jakes who is seen gratuitously murdered in a London Bugleow along with his young, beautiful wife who is found brutally raped & tied to the corpse of her husband with blood soaked all over her body & the floor.


An LAPD detective “Danny McGuire” arrives the scene & rescues the women and interrogates her till the former/cum the solo witness of this mishap, gets discharged from the hospital & flies the scene thereof – leaving all her inherited wealth to an orphanage as charity.!


Due to the lack of evidences available, the case was eventually closed by the department, with poor Danny, who had a clean sheet prior to this, obsessed with the case, grappling to overcome the elementary fact that “Can a perpetrator steal all the jewels & miniatures of his victim and then leave the lady alone as witness.?” and if so “How his sole witness flies of the scene without ever intimating somebody.?” .


He ascents from his seat, takes a choke & marks it down on a blackboard, with a point to prove – “Miniatures, Jewels, Insurance & now, in all probability, an enigmatic thief/perpetrator with mysterious agendas – the kind of stuff that only he could explain with utmost conviction”.


Danny’s detective story is intercut with a series of some unknown family flashbacks which includes one of the Billionaire’s disillusioned sons “Matt Daley” a guy who gets fascinated by the news reports regarding his father’s death & dwells over the matter, all-but with a primary intention of making a successful documentary on the same & with all the evidences & motives laid down thereto.(A documentary on his dead father! Can you believe it.?)


Daley meets the still grappling Danny McGuire, who is @ the Interpol now & gets down to discuss the matter in his office with some impressive findings & revelations of his own, which includes a couple of identical killings which co-insides with his father’s brutal murder in mischievous or uncanny ways.


The shrewd minds of Danny the detective wakes up from a coma only to encounter with layers of shocking/labyrinthine plots & subplots and to go on a maddening descent into the mind of a serial killer who toys with his tails more often than not, till the latter is led to the far end of his/her comfort zones while confronting the most shocking of all truths.


The best exchanges in the novel features Danny & Angela - its two main characters - at the beginning, and a crime set-up scene so spellbinding, which eminently boasts off this terrific author featuring him at his imperial best shrouded with exactly the kind of potpourri dialogues & mild sexual content that a novel like this desperately thrives for.


What is special about Sheldon here is the uncanny, almost inane ways in which he imitates - Don’t ask me who that is  - Arthur Conan Doyle in a blatant yet subtle manner and without ever exaggerating the master’s style & richness in texture & hence never really spoiling the fun quotient attached to it.(At one point he even quotes out “That’s the problem, I’ve no idea” paying special tribute to Conan the technocratic)


Take that hard-boiled exchanges for instance in which the author describes his characters, as if in a trance, slowly providing a description thereof - his characteristics, demeanor, the seductive physical presence etc – and does it in a way - gradually - without ever side tracking from the subject matter, which is really, really hard to do and hence is commendable.


Check out also, how well Sheldon builds up a kind of gradual, hanging on the balance kind of restraint in his protagonist’s, which, compared to all of his works is rarely put into practice. At one point Danny epitomizes Sherlock, the symbol of calm & the peaceful and on the flipside he epitomizes Dr. Watson, the over the top rookie assistant who jumps on to every single suspect he encounters with, without ever foreseeing the associated dangers thereof.


To make the fun element even more uprising & interesting, there’s also that fabulous reference to a London street “Chester Square” - where lived the wife of a renowned Russian football tycoon(Abramovich) Two Hollywood film stars(Connery & Moore), a French soccer hero(Zidane), founder of Europe’s largest hedge fund(De Picciotto), a Greek prince(George II) & an Indian software pioneer(Narayan Murthy) - a fitting swansong to this brilliant author’s shrewd eye for detail, notwithstanding the fact that it was gradually evolved(‘no gimmick’) from the story penned by Tilly Bagshaw.


Every chapter ends on a tantalizing note, which in itself makes the case for a decent page turner; But the real letdown for me here in Angel of the Death is Bagshaw’s ordinary extension of the short story, which doesn’t really do justice to the real talent lurking behind. As opposed to Sheldon, Bagshaw seems so nervous at places and more so in the penultimate moments & fortunately or unfortunately finishes off the novel with some blatantly obvious & somewhat logic defying plot holes, all leading up to a reasonable yet silly climax which can be easily predicted from a mile away notwithstanding the fact that it forces us to re-ask the most tweeted of all questions – “Was Justice Actually Served.?”.


In fact, the relationship between the cop & his harrowing victim is so understated and subtle at the beginning that I really wished the whole novel had settled to be just that & in-turn provided an exposition in character study(a cop & his victim doesn’t come quite often) with the cop & his victim following suspects all over the countryside exactly the kind of stuff Conan Doyle does so majestchandru021y well.


After all, if you’re sitting idle on a cold & lazy-Sunday afternoon with the “de-gamma cockroaches” all over the floor, then this is the kind of novel which you don’t mind scrolling over.


I say read it for Sidney Sheldon, A master storyteller from Hollywood who’s very crime set up scene itself gets the reader fascinated right from the word go –



“Angela Yells in despair – “Detective.! Find out ‘THE ANIMAL’ who did this”


Danny contemplates -


“ There was blood-soaked all over the floor, the old man’s all-but-severed head, the disgusting obscene scratches on Angela’s thighs, bocks & bs”.


And finally comes to terms with it - “ANIMAL” “WAS THE RIGHT WORD” .!”



~ Final Words:- The whole novel is not quite Vintage Sidney, but still makes a time-pass worthy potboiler. 3 out of 5. Marginal thumbs up.


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