Charles Belfoure ("The Paris Architect") is an architect by profession and training, and that comes through in his entertaining but paper-thin second novel, "House of Thieves."
The good news is that Mr. Belfoure has a command of setting and the ability to create a terrific potboiler of a plot. As an architect, it should be no surprise that Mr. Belfoure has an eye for detail. In "House of Thieves," the New York City of the late 19th century comes alive. A successful architect, John Cross, lives the stereotypical life of a society gentleman. He is respected and wealthy, but he must be stoic on the outside - a single whiff of scandal will see him and his entire family exiled forever from the good standing among the Knickerbocker families. His wife, Helen, is brilliant and gorgeous, but John more or less ignores her because society expects him to (and forces both of them into stupidly rigid roles). His eldest son, George, is a Harvard graduate and seems destined to be a great academic. His daughter, Julia, will be the belle of the New York society debutante scene, and his younger son Charlie is cute and adorable.
But all the Crosses have their own sins (get the pun?) that threaten to bring ruin to all. Worst of all is George's gambling addiction, which puts him in hock to the criminal underworld. To pay off his son's debts, John must use his knowledge of building design to help the gangsters rob from the elite of New York society. And, of course, once Cross proves that he's pretty good at it, the gangsters find ways to keep him part of the family . . . or else his will be erased forever.
All this is great stuff, and there are other departures from the Straight and Narrow for the other members of the Cross clan.
As long as Belfoure describes what people are doing or the world they are living in, "House of Thieves" is a fine, first-rate entertainment. Belfoure offers a lot of Architecture 101, but he never does so at the expense of the plot or story, and he has a keen sense for the Upstairs/Downstairs life of Manhattan at the time.
But, unfortunately, when Belfoure's characters talk to each other, the sand gets in the gears, often painfully so. Writing dialogue is extremely difficult, and the dialogue of "House of Thieves" is workmanlike at best. Belfoure unfortunately underlines his dialogue with adverbs, such as: "'I am so sorry . . . ,' he said apologetically." He already said that he's sorry - why throw in "apologetically"? Dialogue is too often used for the recitation of basic facts - the exposition gets old.
Belfoure also doesn't quite have a handle on his characters. The Crosses are a mercurial bunch. One moment, John Cross is an out-of-shape flabby architect, the next he's putting pistol shots through a window from a moving elevated train car. Cross learns that he enjoys the thrills of stealing, but at other times he's horrified by what he's done. I'm fine with people vacillating, but the problem with Cross is that he seems to forget either that he enjoys stealing or was bothered by it . . . he just bounces from one emotion to another. And this pervades all the Crosses - each of them in their own way finds their way to a double life, and it all goes far too easy for them except for the occasional passage of unease.
Supporting characters are for the most part threadbare, and once their use is up Belfoure can dispose of them with unseemly speed . . . the body count of "House of Thieves" is pretty high, but Belfoure is content to rip off the bandage rather than build a more appropriate level of tension and terror.
All in all, "House of Thieves" is a good book. I hope Hollywood pays attention - with a first-rate screenwriter, this could be adapted into one hell of an entertaining movie. (Heavily adapted, mind you.)