Erasmus's four regular readers will remember his shock at learning that the guy who wrote "The Piña Colada Song" is also a hell of a novelist, in addition to his lengthy and impressive curriculum vitæ in a variety of artistic endeavors.
So, as when finding any author with whom he is impressed, Erasmus turned turned to his backlist, which in Holmes' case is one volume, Where the Truth Lies. Erasmus found it to be exceedingly well-written, very well-plotted, and extremely well-crafted as a historical novel.
The history in question is that of the 1950s and the 1970s, in which a young, female journalist going by the name of O'Connor delves into the break-up twenty years earlier of a comic duo who resemble Martin & Lewis very, very strongly. A young woman's body was found in a bathtub at a New Jersey casino right around the time they broke up, and the presumable murder has always cast a pall over their breakup, as well as a spell over the investigatively minded.
The historical details of both the '70s and the '50s seems impeccably rendered, and again, Erasmus is amazed to see how a novelist of this talent has flown beneath the critical radar. (Though it may be Mr. Holmes' '70s-style tinted shades and beard, calling to mind Blue Öyster Cult, et al.)
Erasmus has no interest in seeing the poorly-reviewed cinematic adaption and advises interested parties to read the book before seeing the film (which does feature some excellent actors).
Erasmus does wonder, however, with no little distaste, what the heck Martin & Lewis ever did to Rupert Holmes.
Where the Truth Lies, ave.