Title: Oy Vey, Maria!, a Mrs. Kaplan Mystery
Author: Mark Reutlinger
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Book Blurb:
Rose Kaplan and her sidekick Ida are at it again. It's the holiday of Purim, and almost everyone at the Julius and Rebecca Cohen Home for Jewish Seniors is in costume for the Purim play. All except one, who will instead have to be fitted for a shroud. The culprit seems obvious, having been found standing over the body holding a smoking gun. But is the case that open and shut? Once again, "Mrs. K" and Ida are called upon to solve the puzzle of a mysterious death at the Home. Described by Chanticleer Book Reviews as "at times more Lucy and Ethel than Holmes and Watson, with a soupcon of Miss Jane Marple," these geriatric amateur sleuths will keep you laughing, guessing, and maybe even learning a bissel Yiddish!
Excerpt:
I didn’t see the shuttle outside when I entered the lobby.
“Are we not going downtown this morning?” I asked Mrs. K when I saw her.
“Yes, we are. But it seems the shuttle is in the garage for repairs.”
“So we’ll be taking a taxi? Have you your senior discount card with you? Mine is in my room.”
Mrs. K looked a bit uneasy. “Yes, I have mine,” she said, “but we won’t be using it.”
“Surely we aren’t going to walk,” I said. “We might as well try to climb Mt. Everest. Or so my feet would tell you.”
Mrs. K laughed. “No, no. We aren’t walking.”
“Nu, so what then? Fly?”
“I shall explain. I was asking Joy at the reception desk to call us a taxi when Sophie Glass taps me on the shoulder and says, ‘If you’re going downtown, Rose, why not come with me? While the shuttle is down, my grandson Sammy said I could drive one of his cars so I can get around.’”
“Her grandson has more than one car?”
“Apparently so. She said he has been a … what did she call him … a ‘car nut’ ever since he was a teenager, taking them apart and putting them together and ‘souping them up’ and all that, and now he still has several cars he likes to work on. The one he lent to Sophie must be one of his spares. Anyway, she said she was going downtown this morning and would love to have company. I guess I said we would be glad to ride with her.”
I was a bit shocked. “I can’t believe Sophie Glass still drives. Gottenu! She must be at least 85 years old and frail like a faigeleh. Like a little bird. And the glasses she wears are thick like hockey … hockey whatchamacallits.”
“Pucks,” said Mrs. K.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Pucks. Hockey pucks. Yes, they are quite thick, and she is delicate, as you say. I would not choose to ride with her, but … well, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by refusing. I couldn’t very well say I—or we—didn’t trust her driving, as we have never driven with her before. And I certainly couldn’t say something like, ‘I’m sorry, Sophie, but you’re too old.’”
“No, of course not,” I said. I sighed. There seemed to be nothing to be done except ride downtown with Sophie Glass. . . .
****
Unfortunately, my doubts were more than confirmed when Sophie drove up in her grandson’s car. I could see immediately why it was his “spare” car, as in “spare tire”: it should only be used in case of emergency. My best guess is that this was Sammy’s first car, and it was quite old when he bought it.
As soon as I saw the car, I grabbed Mrs. K’s arm and said, “Rose, what is that Sophie is driving? It looks like it was used in the war and barely survived.”
“Yes, Ida. World War One, most likely.”
I will try to describe this machine. To say this car was big and old would be an understatement. The only time I have seen such cars before is in the movies, where nogoodniks like Albert Capone would sit in the back and smoke big cigars, unless they were being shot with machine guns, in which case the cars would end up looking like the colander I use to drain lentils. Its tuchis was up in the air and the front part down low, like it was one of those athletes in the Olympics getting ready to run a race. The body was painted black, although it had apparently been unpainted in several places. And oy, did it ever make a racket. And just to add frosting to the cake, it had bright red flames painted on the side, as if they were coming out of the motor. Maybe they were!
“I imagine,” Mrs. K commented, “this was at one time quite an elegant automobile. Sophie’s grandson probably didn’t have the heart to send this car to the junkyard, so he kept it around so people like us would have the pleasure of riding in it.” I don’t think she was being serious. Such a pleasure we can easily do without, thank you.
I was the first to reach the car, which was making a low rumbling sound, I imagined something like a very large lion or tiger makes when getting ready to leap on an unsuspecting gazelle. I gingerly turned the handle of the rear door and pulled. Nothing happened. I pulled harder. Nothing happened. Finally Mrs. K grasped the handle with me and we both pulled. Even a growling tiger was no match for the combined weight of two determined ladies. The door swung open and it was all Mrs. K and I could do to keep from ending up head over tuchis in an undignified heap on the ground.
When we had finally climbed into the back seat, the car took off with a jerk and a roar.
That poor gazelle didn’t have a chance!
The first thing we noticed when the car was moving was that we could not see anyone driving it. Looking over the high back of the front seat, we saw little Sophie peering over the top of the big steering wheel, the seat being pulled as far forward as possible so she could reach the pedals.
“Sophie,” Mrs. K said, loud enough to be heard over the engine roar, “are you sure you can drive this … this vehicle?”
Sophie looked back, meaning she was not looking where the car was going, and said with a smile, “Oh, yes, Rose. Isn’t it fun?”
If you define fun as having a heart attack, I suppose the answer was “yes.”
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09DB55TLW?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_0&storeType=ebooks
What makes your featured book a must-read?
Like the other books in the “Mrs. Kaplan” series, Oy Vey, Maria! combines humor, mystery, and insight into Jewish traditions and holidays, in this case the holiday of Purim. It also gives readers a different, more positive view of a retirement home and the people who live there than is usually found in the popular press. All in all, it is a fast and fun read for a lazy afternoon at home or on the beach.
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Author Biography:
MARK REUTLINGER, Professor of Law Emeritus at Seattle University, is the author of the “Mrs. Kaplan” cozy mystery series (which includes, in addition to Oy Vey, Maria!, Mrs. Kaplan and the Matzoh Ball of Death and A Pain in the Tuchis); the caper crime story Murder with Strings Attached; and To Seduce a President, a political thriller scheduled for release in April. Mark and his wife Analee live in University Place, Washington.
Social Media Links:
Instagram: @markreutlingerauthor
Twitter/X: @mark_reutlinger
BlueSky: @mreutlingerauthor1.bsky.social