On 8 August 1930, Judge Joseph Crater disappeared. He left behind both a wife, Stella, and a mistress, showgirl Sally Lou Ritz, nicknamed Ritzi. To this day, no one knows for certain what happened to him. For a long time, Crater was known as “the missingest man in New York”; as author Ariel Lawhon notes, his disappearance “once obsessed a nation”.
This case made news again in 2005 when a note led police to Coney Island where they discovered human remains. However, most likely no one will ever know if these remains are in fact Crater’s or if the details in the note — that a police officer was responsible for Crater’s disappearance and death — are accurate.
An unsolved missing person’s case with all the glamour and corruption associated with America in ’30s: what would be a better basis for a mystery novel?
Enter Ariel Lawhon and her page-turning book The Wife, the Maid, and the Mistress. Lawhon doesn’t purport to solve the mystery; instead, she notes: “This account is nothing more than my own speculations… My personal interest in this story lies in the fact that someone knew what happened yet chose not to tell. My job was to ask who that person or persons might be and what they had to hide.”
And what a job she does. She begins with a mix of characters, some based on real people and others complete works of fiction. As the title indicates, she includes Stella and Ritzi, but she also brings in a fictional character, Maria, the Craters’ maid. Maria is married to a police officer who becomes involved with the case.
Maria, Stella, and Ritzi make an interesting trio. Each woman has her flaws; lying, for example, is something they all regularly do. However, each is also a strong, smart woman. It’s probably why, at one of the many parties, “the only thing that upstaged the hors d’oeuvres and flower arrangements was the women.”
The ladies aren’t the only impressive characters in the book, as Lawhon doesn’t skimp in the bad guy department either. Crater, for the brief time we see him, certainly isn’t a pleasant man, but there are plenty of others to enjoy loathing. Gangsters and corrupt cops definitely play a role, but Maria’s boss at her second job, a pandering, demeaning, demoralizing man who seems to resent Maria because she is better at his job than he is, is a character that shows you don’t have to tote a gun to be a villain.
Then there’s Lawhon’s attention to detail and the descriptions that transport readers back to the ’30s. One favorite comes in a scene set at a speakeasy: “Crater lifted a sugar cube from the bowl and set it on the slotted spoon. He rested the spoon on the glass of absinthe and poured a small amount of ice water over the top. ‘Look,’ he said. The liquor was the color of green apples, and the sugar created a small white cloud as it dripped in the glass.”
Finally, there’s the recurring theme of stories and the idea that everyone has a story, but some are just more willing to share than others. The book opens at a bar in 1969; it’s the bar Stella goes to every year to remember her husband. Maria’s police officer husband Jude joins her: “Stella lured him here with the promise of a story. The real version this time. He has been like a duck after bread crumbs for thirty-nine years. Pecking. Relentless. Gobbling up every scrap she leaves for him. Yet the truth is not something she will rush tonight. He will get it one morsel at a time.”
This is a story with a lot of moving parts and pieces: the three main female characters, the men in their lives, and a slew of minor characters (some of which are a little too stereotypically 1930). The book shifts between 1969, the year the real Stella died, and the ’30s. Additionally, when the story goes back to the ’30s, it does not always do so chronologically. In addition to Crater’s disappearance, there are several other minor plotlines: fertility issues, irritating relatives, an unplanned pregnancy. For a book that, minus the author’s note, barely hits 300 pages, it’s ambitious. Still, for the most part, it works. And considering the ending, which provides a lovely twist, Lawhon does an admirable job fitting all the parts together. Even when rereading the book, there’s little to contradict the final scenes.
Real life intrigue can be a great place to start a story, but it doesn’t guarantee that the final result will be noteworthy. There have been plenty of ripped from the headlines stories, both in books and films, that have, quite frankly, fallen flat. Lawhon’s book, with some likeable characters, more than enough villains to choose from, a bit of campy fun, and a clever but plausible ending, should charm most mystery lovers looking to while away a winter afternoon.