Birmingham, of "The LeBaron Secret" (1985) and "Our Crowd" (1967) fame, has written a rags-to-riches saga with several twists and switchbacks. This labored but ultimately clever and satisfying novel tells the tale of one Silas Tarkington, founder of an exclusive Manhattan department store. Tarkington's is a veritable temple to status and indulgence with beautiful salespeople, unlimited credit, and very special services. But all this glamour is rooted in sleaze: embezzlement, blackmail, and even murder. Tarkington is actually Solomon Tarcher, a Jew from the Lower East Side who once served time for larceny. While retailing was in his blood--Tarkington's grandmother and mother created a successful millinery business back when women wore hats--his brilliant and calculating career was engineered by a nasty shyster named Moe Minskoff. We learn all the dirty secrets of Tarkington's messy life in flashbacks as his spunky daughter, feisty mother, stunning and resilient wife, and current mistress try to fathom the chaos of the store's financial straits after Tarkington's suspicious death. Birmingham juggles several subplots involving all manner of manipulation, deceit, and conniving, while name-dropping designers and celebrities whenever possible and portraying the life-style of the rich and famous as wretchedly tedious and superficial. His casting of women as the heroes in this mercantile thriller cum murder mystery is a nice touch.
Latest in Birmingham's infatuations with other peoples' lives (Shades of Fortune, 1989, etc.)—here in another of his popular tales of Manhattan mensch on the move, with shaky pasts and glittery presents, their women and their well-kept secrets. This time, the death of a famous retail magnate turns out to have been murder, and it's his daughter who'll save both the endangered business and her own self-esteem as her father's past steams open. Silas Tarkington (n‚ Solomon Tarcher), founder and owner of Tarkington's—a Fifth Avenue emporium for the super-rich/super- chic—is found floating in his Long Island mansion's swimming pool. But Silas, it seems, was in perfect health—and why did second wife Consuela, who found the body, call a doctor friend a half-hour away instead of 911? Meanwhile, Silas's daughter Miranda, always discouraged by her father from a career in the store, accepts with pleasure the invitation of Silas's right-hand man, handsome Tommy Bonham, to be a partner in administering Tarkington's. Silas' son by his first wife, however, is not mentioned in the will, and neither is Moses Minskoff, a gross chewer of dead cigars, telephone glued-to-ear—a combo of Bugsy Siegel and Fibber Fox, given to toss off wonders like "entre vous" and "tempo fugit, as the fella says." This Birmingham cartoon, broad as a meat axe, has had a lot to do with the rise of Silas Tarkington. Now, out of the mists of the past, arise: ancient mother Rose and sister Simma, as well as a mysterious lady in a West End Avenue brownstone, her hand out for a monthly payment personally delivered by Silas. While Miranda suffers and wonders about Dad's women in and out of wedlock, a nicejournalist begins to help Miranda snoop—successfully. An agreeable enough mystery enlivened by Birmingham's sense of intimacy with the scene. The author's following—carriage-to-subway trade—is a given.
