When Sunny Fogarty, the chief financial officer of Whitcomb Funeral Homes, comes to McNally and Son with concerns that the firm is making too much money, both Prescott McNally and his Son, Archy (our humble narrator) aren’t sure there’s much to find out. But oh boy, does Archy ever land himself in a tangled mess.

This book was a re-read—I read the series about 20 years ago—and this installment was a charming one for me. I come more for Archy’s unique narration and the recurring cast of characters. As I was going through the list of characters in my head, I just realized that gossip columnist Lolly Spindrift never did find out from Archy how this case went down. I suppose he’ll get that information from the other papers and get annoyed with Archy off-page about not letting him in on the scoop. Or maybe he got the scoop off-page.

I also enjoy Archy’s meticulous chronicling of food; we both march on our stomachs, so mine was constantly growling at the thought of cheeseburgers at the Pelican Club and the wonderful meals Ursi Olson, their live-in cook, turned out on the regular. I did despair for Archy’s liver, though, with all the drinks he knocked back over the course of the book. I’d like to see the British Medical Journal analyze his alcohol intake like they did with James Bond.

On this reading I found it interesting that this book, published in 1995, talks about how computerizing information will compromise privacy. I have to wonder how Archy would have dealt with social media and the almighty algorithm. ( )

I'm disappointed. He didn't dwell on food as much as usual. I usually have to put down his books and get a snack. Whether it's Chief Delaney's unbelievable sandwiches or one of Archy's repasts, you have rarely let me down.

Enjoyable book but not terribly clever. I felt like shaking these people -- duh, you can't figure out what the bad guys are doing?!? The addition of Binky as his aid-de-camp (with emphasis on the camp) was particularly enjoyable. ( )

This is number five in the Archie McNally saga, and it is perhaps my favorite to date. Archie's personality is in full bloom, and the mystery in which he becomes involved is an interesting puzzle on its own merits. Archie's combination of charm, eccentricity, self-confidence, and amorality (sexual amorality, anyway) remains in place, but the details are particularly vivid -- his riffs on food, clothing and romance are delightful. As to the mystery, it involves surging profits and a funeral home, and proceeds (inevitably) to murder. This episode gives a prominent role to Archie's very dim friend Binkie. I love Binkie, but then I love Bertie Wooster. If you don't like Wodehouse, be warned. ( )

It’s pretty hard not to love a book that throws in such uncommon words such as hirsute, acumen, trichologist, inamorata, prolixity, and characters who confuse the Nutcracker with the famous Christmas ballet the Ballbreaker.”

Archy McNally is sort of an American Jeeves, and I can envision David Case reading these books to perfection. This was my first — not to be the last — Sanders. McNally is the hedonistic quasi detective who handles discreet inquiries for his father, the prestigious Palm Beach lawyer. In a nutshell as described by the book’s bad guy, “ Your father is an attorney but doesn’t do litigation. You started out to be a lawyer but got kicked out of school. You’re single and live with your parents. You drink but you’re no doper. You do investigations for your father’s firm.”

McNally’s sidekick is Binky Watrous, supported by the Duchess, who is threatening to cut off Bink’s allowance, so, always wanting to be a P.I., he asks to work for McNally in this most amusing investigation. (“It wasn’t that Binky was incapable of reasoning, but his gears had slipped a bit, just enough so his thinking was slightly skewed. I mean, he was the kind of numbskull who, informed that a friend had choked to death on a fish bone, was likely to inquire, ‘Broiled or sautéed?'” and “His sartorial sense is gravely retarded. He once wore spats over flip-flops to a beach barbecue.”) McNally has been approached by Sunny Fogarty, the nubile treasurer of Whitcomb Funeral Homes. It seems they have been making obscene amounts of money — too many people have been dying — and she can’s understand why. Archy, with the approval of his father, agrees to make some discreet inquiries. The Whitcomb Funeral Home situation is complicated. The patriarch, Horace, has left a controlling share in the family business to his dying wife, Sarah, and is in the midst of a battle with his son, Oliver, who wants to expand the business into a nationwide franchise. Oliver’s wife, Mitzi, falls for Binky, and then develops an unhealthy involvement with a local gangster. It seems that Oliver and this nefarious gentleman have been shipping caskets all over the country where they are picked up not by other funeral homes, but the same cartage service that happens to be owned by the same gangster..
Forced to hobnob with the Palm Beach upper crust, Archy remains skeptical — he wears a puce beret -- even though his own family dresses for dinner and suffers through repasts consisting of a cocktail hour, “shrimp and scallops sautéed with capers, roasted peppers and sundried tomatoes.”

The fun with this book isn’t trying to figure out who did what or why, it’s Archy’s joie-de-vie and high society ostentatiousness
( )

Not to be missed if you like the McNally series. Good light-hearted fun mystery ( )