Bookends

NIGHT OF THE FOX

by Jack Higgins

Simon & Schuster; 316 pages; $17.95

The author's own disbelief seems not to be wholly suspended in this drowsy, amiable thriller about the German Occupation of Britain's Channel Islands during World War II. The narrative is full of cinematic echoes. There is a real Field Marshal Erwin Rommel and a fake ("Heini Baum, Jewish actor and cabaret performer from Berlin and proud of it"), both of whom suggest James Mason in the title role of The Desert Fox. There is an Allied intelligence agent living hazardously as a German officer; Christopher Plummer lounged through just such a role in Hanover Street. A heartbreakingly young and beautiful Englishwoman (already played by Deborah Kerr, Julie Andrews et al.) is caught up in the action, as such tales require, feeling "not just sexual desire" but "the promise of danger, excitement of a kind she had never dreamed of before."

No matter; Jack Higgins' cliches are good fun, and ripe enough to require a ticket taker out front and popcorn in the lobby. "There's only one man for this job," says one master spy. "Only one man capable of playing a Nazi to the hilt and ruthless enough to put a bullet between Kelso's eyes." His subordinate reminds him that "Colonel Martineau was given a definite promise after that business in Lyons that his services wouldn't be required again. His health alone should make it impossible." Says the counterintelligence officer, summing up neatly: "Nonsense, Jack."

WINDMILLS OF THE GODS

by Sidney Sheldon

Morrow; 384 pages; $18.95

In his seventh blockbuster, Sidney Sheldon has a great time inventing grisly ways of killing his characters. A Rumanian rebel, Marin Groza, has himself beaten by prostitutes as penance for sitting by while his wife and daughter were fatally raped. But this time he is unaware that the whip has been dipped in curare. Harry Lantz, a sleazy womanizer, curls to death when someone adds an electric hair dryer to his bath water. And the head of another miscreant turns up in a Washington garbage dump. There are a few survivors, notably Professor Mary Ashley, "the opposite of the ugly American," plucked from her Kansas home to serve as U.S. Ambassador to Rumania. Mary attempts to build bridges with the Communists, but "the gods," malevolent figures who use code names like Odin, Balder and Thor, have other plans. Whether agents of decency can triumph over the pantheon is, of course, never in question. The Sheldon brand name guarantees a predictable mix of global gore and paperback psychopathology. Goodness has nothing to do with it.

A SEASON ON THE BRINK

by John Feinstein

Macmillan; 311 pages; $16.95

Bob Knight had it all: an Olympic gold medal, two N.C.A.A. championships and an NIT crown. Then came the 1984-85 season. His basketball team, the Indiana Hoosiers, played under .500 in Big Ten competition for the first time in his 14-year reign as coach. Knight began to unravel. He benched his starters, dismissed his leading rebounder and, in a nationally televised game, he flung a chair across the court to protest the officiating. John Feinstein, a canny Washington Post columnist, focuses on the following season, when Knight veered even closer to the edge. Feinstein has no quarrel with the coach's leadership qualities, but they were far outweighed by his aggressions. Throughout the season Knight reviles the Hoosiers, throws them out of practice sessions for being imperfect, then orders them back for further humiliation. It turns out to be a winning season for the team, but once the cheering stops, the bruised psyches of the players make them -- and their mentor -- seem the biggest losers of the year.

THE EYES OF THE DRAGON

by Stephen King

Viking; 326 pages; $18.95

The fiction factory of Bangor, Me., sometimes known as Stephen King, has just produced its first 1987 prototype. This is a small, youth-centered version of earlier vehicles capable of holding the whole family. It corners well and accelerates quickly. It has to: The Eyes of the Dragon is a medieval fantasy that drives over thin ice, and its strength is in its speed. Good Prince Peter is framed for regicide by Flagg, a wicked magician who could teach Merlin a few tricks. Once Peter is hauled away to a prison tower, Flagg's puppet, Thomas, rules with a combination of cupidity, naivete and wickedness. Will Thomas be deposed? Will Peter escape and regain the throne? Will he successfully confront Flagg -- or will the wizard disappear with a hearty "Aiiiiyyyyyyyyeeeeee?" Devotees of the King assembly line want no surprises and will receive none. Those dissatisfied with this subcompact have only to wait a while for the next model. It ought to be along any minute.