It is too bad that former President Harry S. Truman didn’t get to read the positive reviews of his daughter’s mystery novels before he died. “Give ‘em Hell, Harry” brought the inferno to a Washington Post music critic after said writer lambasted a performance by Margaret Truman during her singing career. I think the proud and protective father and President would be thrilled with the body (or perhaps, I should say “bodies”) of work in the mystery genre. Before her death in 2008, someone suggested that she was running out of famous venues in Washington, D.C. in which to have murders take place. I’m personally glad she didn’t run out of venues. I’ve enjoyed every mystery I’ve read over the years.
Murder in the Smithsonian took me back to my first trip to the Air & Space Museum and my first visit to the National Gallery of Art. Neither of those sites are locations of any of the murder(s) in the book, but they do have a role where one locale advances the plot and another provides misdirection. One such event involves the Friendship 7, John Glenn’s space capsule from the Mercury program. I’d never realized what “Spam in the can” meant for those early astronauts, but suddenly I did. The event in the novel brought back that memory.
But the main story in this novel has to do with the Smithsonian’s Museum of American History and, in particular, an exhibition dealing with secret societies prior to the Revolutionary War. The story focuses on the two major societies, the very “patrician” Society of the Cincinnati and the very (for its day) inclusive Legion of Harsa. The murder is apparently precipitated by the display of an artifact from one of these societies and executed with a sword that belonged to Thomas Jefferson. And, since the plot has to do with secret societies and at least one conspiracy, the way the plot unfolds matches the subject matter. At times, the procedures involving some of the characters remind one more of espionage work than detective work. That’s the good news.
The better news is that there are plenty of potential bad guys to choose from. There are suspects who might be suspect only because of their sexual orientation and there are suspects who might be suspect simply for their convenient presence at the critical reception. There are suspects who are simply overbearing and unlikeable and there are suspects who are suspect simply because they may have been wielding power for too long. The list is long, overlaps, and leaves the principal investigator (Hanrahan) often gasping in frustration. I personally targeted the perpetrator early on, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t tempted to chase some of these other suspects for a few minutes at various points in the book. I do think that the alibis for one of these red herring suspects was a little too convenient and little too hidden from the readers. I can’t think back to any foreshadowing that prepared us for that alibi and didn’t like the closure of that part of the mystery.
But it’s a good mystery and I won’t spoil it any more than I may have to this point. Suffice it to say that the lack of foreshadowing on that one suspect keeps this book to three stars and not four in my estimation. Truman was as fine a mystery writer as her father was President (and I consider him the best in my lifetime). Murder in the Smithsonian shows some of that brilliance, but tapers off somewhat when she presents her best “red herring.” Perhaps, said “herring” was too good.