Wheelbase: Dark Dealings in the Classic Car World
by Michael Kliebenstein
“I had a conversation about that with a renowned Ferrari historian, years ago, and we both agreed the Vignale design came at least a year before the 300SLR that was developed in 1955 for the 1956 season, although it never competed; Mercedes withdrew from racing after the 1955 Le Mans tragedy.”
—Michael Chapman, classic car dealer
When I first got the car bug, nobody would have written a book about skulduggery in the classic car world. Back in those days, before the word “iconic” studded every sales ad, old cars, even the ones from Maranello and Stuttgart, were cheap. Just how cheap may be a shock to younger readers so —trigger warning—here are some bargains (even after adjusting for inflation) from Autocar, 1 June 1967. How about a 1957 Porsche Speedster for £499*? Or maybe sir would prefer a “peony red” 1960 Aston Martin DB4 for a mere £1095*? Ferraris have never been cheap but the prospect of a 275 GTS for just under £4000* would have made me consider selling a kidney, possibly even one of my own.
The same publisher also did Kliebenstein’s previous book, hence the similar treatment of the main title.
But the classic car world isn’t peopled with charming old buffers called Bunty selling ancient Rolls-Royces to enthusiasts any more. Instead, we have hedge funders outbidding shady oligarchs to buy the bragging rights that only a rare Ferrari can bestow. This is the world Michael Kliebenstein knows well, having been a collector, restorer, and marketing expert for decades. That background guarantees he is well placed to write a novel about Dark Dealings in the Classic Car World.
Wheelbase is a 288-page softback and its hero is classic car trader Michael Chapman, assisted by his hard as nails business partner, Rick Sunderland. The plot begins with the curious case of the Ferrari 250 SWB. Somewhere between dispatch and delivery, the Ferrari with the blue-chip provenance has been transformed to just another knock-off replica. The buyer isn’t best pleased, nor are Michael and Rick and so, seasoned by the prospect of a £70 million deal of a collection of Ferraris, we have the recipe for a thriller. It’s quite the collection, by the way: “It’s like someone turning up on your doorstep with a crateful of unseen, never-on-the-market Monets. And the GTO, well, that alone may as well be the Mona Lisa.”
The world our sixty-something hero inhabits will be familiar to anybody who reads the glossier classic car magazines. It’s no surprise that Mike drives a Rolls-Royce Phantom (a 2009 model, so not too nouveau riche), wears a “battered Rolex Daytona” and keeps his stuff in a Louis Vuitton bag. There’s more than a whiff of Ian Fleming in the author’s style and perhaps even a distant echo of Day of the Jackal. It is inevitable that our man has A Past—he’s still bruised from a lost love—but there’s a fiery Italian contessa in his life, as well as a cast of characterful European wheelers and dealers to schmooze and network. It’s a frenetic lifestyle, but at least our man doesn’t have to rely on the cheese roll grabbed at the airport to get him through the day. “’Two glasses of pink champagne first.’ said Marcel. ‘And you, Mike?’ ‘That’s good with me. And I’ll have the escargots de Bourgogne, foie gras toast, and oeufs dur mayonnaise.”
Michael Kliebenstein’s first language isn’t English—he’s a Dane—but you really wouldn’t guess from the writing. The book has a fluid, engaging style and I’m sure that classic car market insiders will smile in recognition at the heroes and villains who punctuate the chase. There is perhaps too much reliance on conversation for the narrative’s flow, and an example precedes this review. And just as in real life, the reader is left wondering if there can possibly remain a barn anywhere that isn’t bursting with long-abandoned classics.
These cavils apart, it’s an entertaining read, and if your pornography of choice involves, whether jointly or severally, a Lamborghini Miura, Alfa Romeo 33 Stradales, or an Isotta Fraschini Tipo 8B you won’t be unsatisfied. It’s not really my world—I don’t know my Figoni from my Falaschi and I drive a Miata—but I’ve read enough Octanes and Classic and Sports Cars to recognize a man who knows his stuff. I might raise a quizzical eyebrow, Roger Moore-style, at the publisher’s claim that this is a “high octane thriller,” though. It’s more of a slow burn until the last 50 pages when (as they say in the best cops and robbers stories) “it all kicks off.” And does it ever. There’s guns ‘n planes, moonlighting military folk, and bad guys getting their just desserts. And, spoiler alert, romance blossoms for our battered but unbowed hero. If I might employ an automotive analogy, the book’s pace resembles an old-school turbocharged engine, perhaps the ur Porsche 930 Turbo or the lag-prone M12 BMW “four” in the Brabham BT 52. To begin with, there’s not a whole lot going on, but there’s a growing rumbling, then a flame and a bang before full boost kicks in and—whoosh—before you know it, it’s all over. Hell of a ride though . . .
Like politics, the car and motorsport world already has enough real-life crooks and larger than life characters to make fictitious portrayal unnecessary. I can think of only a handful of books about cars and motor racing, and some are fact-based fiction (“faction,” if you insist) and others are so dreadful that they defy description (Alistair Maclean’s risibly awful The Road to Dusty Death). Wheelbase falls into neither category and, while it’s perhaps less likely to appeal to the general, non-enthusiast reader, that still leaves the half a million or so viewers of Jay Leno’s Garage as potential buyers. This book deserves to succeed.
If you’ve taken a liking to Messrs Chapman and Sunderland you’ll be pleased to learn they already left for their next adventure, to Libya, hot on the trail of a Tunis GP race car.
*After adjustment for inflation and exchange rate the prices equate to $11,500, $25,200 and $92,000 today.
Copyright John Aston, 2025 (speedreaders.info)
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