Category: Robert B. Parker Page 2 of 6

Someone to Watch Over Me by Ace Atkins: Spenser Battles Mortality, An Old Foe, and a Sex-Trafficking Ring.

Believe it or not, this is the trimmed-down version. The original draft was too long even for me, so I tabled it for a week or so and came back with something more concise. More concise, I said, not concise. Hopefully coherent.


Someone to Watch Over Me

Robert B. Parker’s Someone to Watch Over Me

by Ace Atkins
Series: Spenser, #48

Hardcover, 306 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020

Read: January 15-16, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

It was early evening and early summer, and my bay window was cracked open above Berkeley Street. I had a half-eaten turkey sub on my desk and the sports page from The Globe splayed out underneath. Dan Shaughnessy proclaimed Mookie Betts to be overrated. I’m sure many said the same thing about me. But I was pretty sure being overrated was better than being underrated. A mistake few made twice.

I contemplated Mookie’s situation as I heard a knock on the anteroom door.

And just like that, I’m back in one of my favorite fictional universes, and it felt so great. Among the many, many things wrong with 2020 (and I want to stress that this is far down the list) was that there was no new Spenser novel. Thankfully, Atkins and his publisher have addressed that problem here in the early days of 2021 by bringing us the 48th entry in this fantastic series.

It All Starts with a Favor…

Mattie Sullivan, who’s been doing some work for Spenser lately, tried to do a favor for someone from her neighborhood, and now needs Spenser to help her. It’s a pretty simple task, but the story behind it is troubling. It doesn’t go much better for Spenser than it went for Mattie, but once he starts to ask questions, he ends up pulling the proverbial thread that unravels a sweater. And by “sweater”, I’m referring to an international sex-trafficking ring catering to the wealthy and powerful who like to prey on the young.

Yeah, basically, Atkins is going for a ripped-from-the-headlines Jeffrey Epstein kind of story.

Mattie Sullivan

One of my few complaints with the Spenser novels by Atkins is that he hasn’t used Mattie Sullivan since his first one, Lullaby. There’ve been a reference or two, but that’s it. But I got the impression that, like Zebulon Sixkill or Paul Giacomin, Mattie’d be around. But it never materialized. That’s fine. I get where (especially as Atkins was establishing himself) that there’d be some resistance to bringing in a young girl as a regular—it’d be tantamount to introducing Cousin Oliver.

But she’s here, and we’re to believe she’s been a presence in his life, and he in hers. More importantly, she needs a little help from her mentor. She’s on the verge of starting a career, and the way this works out will have a lot to say about her next steps.

Boston Homicide Captain Lorraine Glass

The Captain has been antagonistic toward Spenser since she showed up a few books back, a little more than Quirk was in the early books in the series. Sure, she’ll let Belson do his thing and will eventually listen to what Spenser has to say.

And that hasn’t changed. However…years ago, she tried to stop the same man. She worked with two victims, but the charges went away after someone (probably multiple someones) that he had leverage over had exerted their influence. Glass hasn’t gotten over it. If Spenser’s truly trying to bring him down, she’s in.

She doesn’t give a lot of help, but she gives some—and given what little Spenser has to work with it’s something. This doesn’t mean things are going to be chummy between Glass and Spenser any time soon. But it’s still nice to see.

Pearl Again, Naturally

On the backside, we found two cars parked outside. One was the Mercedes I’d seen drop off Debbie Delgado. The other was a light blue Rolls-Royce Phantom. Pearl and I noted the license tag on the Rolls. Or at least I hoped she did. She was still a detective-in-training.

Susan and Spenser’s second Pearl has died. This time, Spenser replaced her with a puppy German Shorthaired Pointer. I think I mentioned when Lupica’s first Sunny Randall had her do the same thing, I find the practice of replacing one dog with another of the same breed and using the same name odd (more than odd, but let’s stick with that). Susan seems to balk at the practice this time, which is odd. She seemingly had no problem with it for their second Pearl, but now she puts her foot down?

This does, however, provide Atkins with the opportunity to get Spenser to explain himself. I’m not sure that it helps. But at least he tried.

Still, Puppy Pearl is cute, so I’ll shut up about it.

Ruger? Really?

I feel bad bringing this up, but it’s right there in the Publisher’s description, so I guess it’s fair game. But Atkins brings back The Gray Man. I was stunned—almost as stunned as Spenser, Hawk, and Susan were—because I haven’t read a blurb for this series since Atkins’ first installment (and it had been probably decades before that).

I think it’s a risky move to bring someone like this back. You don’t want to use someone like Ruger too often. Once was probably enough, any more than that and you risk humanizing the character, making him seem less threatening, more mortal, more defeatable. I thought that when Parker did brought him back, and I think that now. Parker pulled it off. Atkins did it better. I love it when something so risky pays off.

Momento Mori

The three plane rides hadn’t been kind to me. I could feel every old break, bruise, and irregularity in my body. It had been eight years since I’d first met Mattie. Now she was a grown, successful person. And I was still doing what | do, none the wiser, not finding a better line of work. Maybe someday I’d retire to a place like this… Few get out of our livelihood by being politely asked. One day all the push-ups, wind sprints, and sparring wouldn’t save us. At this point in my life, I’d been doing this for many more years than I had not.

Both Ruger and the new Pearl (in different ways) make much of this book a meditation on mortality (Spenser’s in particular, while Hawk insists he “youthens”). This is something that Atkins has really highlighted in various ways since he took the helm, but not to this extent.

I don’t have time (or that much desire) to re-read it so I couldn’t say this definitively, but I don’t think Ruger’s second appearance brought with it this level of angst and apprehension on the part of Spenser, much less Hawk or Susan. But Atkins hits the notes that he should. The Grey Man about killed Spenser, reduced him to a shadow of the man we knew before, and he should make Spenser—reflexive confidence or not—fearful. As he should be. Because that’s the kind of guy that Ruger is, smart people are afraid of him. Smart people who’ve barely survived going up against him should really be afraid of him.

So, what did I think about Someone to Watch Over Me?

I loved it. I always enjoy being back in this world. Getting to see another part of Hawk’s life than we’ve ever seen before just makes it better.

I do wonder a little about what this novel says about Ceremony, the most problematic Spenser novel (still a good read, don’t get me wrong, but come on). I think Spenser’s actions and attitudes in this are defensible without casting doubt about what he did in Ceremony. And maybe it could be argued that Spenser’s attitudes changed after seeing what happened to April Kyle. I don’t think it’d be convincing, but maybe you could do that.

This gives the long-time fan plenty of stuff to think about, if they want to. There’s a decent amount for a new reader to chew on, too. But more than anything—it’s a solid Spenser novel written by the man who’s been keeping the legend alive for almost a decade, with hopefully many more years to come.


4 1/2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Pub Day Post: Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise by Mike Lupica: Jesse Stone takes a Murder Case Personally

Fool's Paradise

Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise

by Mike Lupica
Series: Jesse Stone, #19

eARC, 352 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020

Read: September 2-3, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s Fool’s Paradise About?

Suitcase Simpson calls Jesse to the scene of a murder, an unidentified man has been found shot at the lakeshore. Jesse recognizes the man—they’d been at the same AA meeting the previous night. It’s not Jesse’s regular meeting, and he didn’t think this man was a regular, either. But at least they had a first name to go off of.

Suit is able to find out at least a little about what the man did after the meeting. He’d taken a taxi from the neighboring town into Paradise. He even had an address—the mansion of a rich and influential family who’d been in Paradise for ages. They’re quick to claim they didn’t know the man, or that he’d been at the house in the hours before he was shot. No member of PPD believes this, but there’s little they can do until they learn a bit more about the victim.

Jesse admits this isn’t entirely rational—but doesn’t back off from it—the fact that he and the victim came to the same meeting, both needing the help that can be found there, created a link for between the two of them. Jesse felt like he owed this man justice more than he would another victim (not that Jesse’s ever been known to not try to find justice for anyone, it’s just personal this time). I loved this little touch—it felt very true to the character and his circumstances, but something that a lot of authors wouldn’t do.

Not long after this, someone takes a shot at Jesse while he’s in his home. Soon, other members of the PPD are attacked off-duty. As always, Jesse, Molly, and Suit acknowledge that coincidences exist, but they have a hard time believing in them. So while they try to identify the murder victim and figure out what he’s going in Paradise (and that part of Paradise in particular), they also need to figure out why someone would be attacking the PPD. And are the two cases related?

A Nice Little Bonus

There’s a lot of Molly in this book. She gets whole chapters without Jesse in them, and a lot of space on her own in chapters with him. We get a little bit of an off-the-job look at Molly, as well as seeing her work part of the investigation. Yes, Jesse’s the central character and should be the focus—but any time that Lupica (or whoever) can flesh out Molly, Suitcase, or any of the others is time well spent (I like the new deputy, too—he was a nice touch). But Molly’s been a favorite since Night Passage introduced this world, and she’s rarely been used as well as the character should’ve been. It’s so nice to see that.

Lupica’s Take on Jesse Stone

I was worried about Lupica being given the reins of this series. I was such a fan of what Colman had done, saving the series from the Michael Brandman debacle—and even from some of the uneven quality that Parker had given toward the end.

But Lupica did exactly what he needed to do—and exactly what I’d hoped (and didn’t expect). He embraced the developments that Coleman introduced and built on them. He could’ve ignored them, or written around them, but he kept Jesse going to AA, he worked on the new relationship with Cole, and Paradise and the Paradise Police Department the same way Coleman had, treating that bit of the series with as much respect and influence as the first nine novels.

Stylistically, Lupica’s closer to Parker than Coleman—which makes sense, it’s the more natural way for him to write (and will likely win back some of Coleman’s detractors). It works for the series, it works for the author—all in all, it’s a good move.

I freely admit that I was skeptical and pessimistic about anyone but Coleman at the post-Parker helm of Jesse Stone and am glad to be proven wrong.

Something I was Pleasantly Surprised By

While I have thought in the past that the best use of Sunny Randall was when Parker used her in the Jesse Stone novels, I wasn’t thrilled to see her in these pages—I thought that Stone, at least, had grown past this relationship. It’s not what it was back in the 3-4 books that Parker wrote with them as a couple, but reflects where they both are now.

I’ve got to say, I liked her here. I liked her in Paradise more than I liked her in the two books that Lupica has written about Sunny. If he keeps this up, I won’t complain.

Lupica’s War on my Sanity

Sure, that’s hyperbolic. But it felt like he was doing this to just bug me.

The mansion that the taxi pulled up to that fateful night is owned by the Cain family, Whit and Lilly Cain. Whit suffered a stroke a few months back, so his wife, Lilly, is who Jesse primarily interacts with. She’s brash, confident, loud, and flirtatious.

Now, I’ve watched the Veronica Mars series more times than I should have. Season One more than the rest. Every time I read “Lilly Cain,” I couldn’t think about anything other than “Lily Kane,” Veronica’s brash, confident, loud, and flirtatious friend.

I know it’s a coincidence, that neither name is all that rare. But it didn’t feel that way.

So, what did I think about Fool’s Paradise?

I liked this so much more than I expected to. I went into this hoping I wouldn’t hate it, and it didn’t take long at all for me to realize I was enjoying it. The prose crackled and moved quickly. There was enough of Jesse’s quiet humor to keep me grinning. The relationships and banter between the characters was spot on. The cases were compelling, interestingly framed, and well-executed. Lupica tied his novel into the overall history of the series well (referencing over half of the books, I think) and established that he’s the right man for the job. I strongly recommend this—either for new readers or established fans. Robert B. Parker’s Fool’s Paradise is a satisfying read that’ll get you eager to see what comes next.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from PENGUIN GROUP Putnam via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.


4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Classic Spenser: Early Autumn by Robert B. Parker

Classic Spenser

Early Autumn

Early Autumn

by Robert B. Parker
Series: Spenser, #7

Mass Market Paperback, 221 pg.
Dell Publishing, 1981

Read: July 29, 2020

This is the least “Spenser”-ish of the Spenser novels, and it’s the most quintessentially “Spenser”-sh. If that’s possible. I’ve probably read it more than any other in the series and probably could’ve written 75% of what I’m going to end up saying here without cracking it open. But why deny myself?

I’m going to try to keep this from getting out of control, but no promises.

Please. I have no one else. Please.”

“There’s a qustion whether you need anyone else,” I said, “but I’ll take a whack at it on one condition.”

“What?”

“You tell me your name so I’ll know where the bill gets sent.”

She smiled. “Giacomin,” she said, “Patty Giacomin.”

“Like the old Ranger’s goalie,” I said.

“I’m sorry?”

“Gentleman of the same name used to be a hockey player.”

“Oh. I”m afraid I don’t follow sports much.”

“No shame to it,” I said. “Matter of not being raised properly. Not your fault at all.”

She smiled again, although this time it was a little unsure, as if now that she had me she wasn’t certain she wanted me. It’s a look I’ve seen a lot.

What’s Early Autumn About?

Patty Giacomin comes to Spenser (in a newly relocated office, this will be important a few books from now) for help, her ex-husband has taken their teenaged son in some sort of revenge move. She wants Spenser to get him back. He does so, in possibly the dullest scene in the series (only because it was so easy). This is not the kind of stuff we read P.I. novels for—Paul’s back home by page 30.

Three months later, a stranger attempts to kidnap Paul, but he escapes. Patty hires Spenser to stay with them and protect Paul—and her, after the would-be kidnapper and an accomplice try to break in and take Paul. Spenser interferes with that plan, but Paul’s safe, Patty’s eventually kidnapped by these men, and the exchange is set up, son for mom.

Spenser and Hawk interfere with that plan, and this time it gets a bit more violent. Clearly things are going to keep escalating, so they need another tack. It’s decided that Patty will lie low with a friend for a while, and Spenser and Paul will go out of town until the heat dies down. Spenser had promised to build a cabin for Susan on some property in Maine, so he and the boy head off to do that.

At this point, it’s not just about keeping Paul safe for Spenser. He’s trying to help the kid—trying to push him into being an autonomous person with skills and interests. Angela Duckworth would say that Spenser’s trying to foster grit in Paul, who certainly needs something.

Clearly, Mel Giacomin has some less-than-savory friends/business associates if he can get this kind of help. Spenser moves the bodyguarding to the side and beings investigating—why would Mel be able to find this kind of help? Would knowing this give Spenser the leverage to get Mel out of Paul’s life?

Paul

When we first meet Paul, he’s a sullen, almost affect-less fifteen year-old whose major form of communication is a shrug. He has no interests, few friends, really doesn’t seem to care which parent he’s with, and would rather just sit around watching syndicated reruns all day than worry about any of this. (one can only imagine how a Paul would be written today with hundreds of cable channels, Netflix (and the rest)—not to mention the Internet—rather than the few choices that 1981 TV provides.

When Spenser starts to teach him to exercise, to box, and to swing a hammer, Paul couldn’t care less about any of it. He goes along because he has nothing better to do (there’s no TV at the cabin) and because Spenser’s not really taking no for an answer. Soon Paul goes along with it because he’s seeing and feeling the results of an active lifestyle.

When Spenser gets ready to investigate his parents, Paul’s more than willing to tag along and help. He’s not a budding P.I., this isn’t Spenser adding a Robin to his Batman. It’s Paul exercising some self-determination. By the end of the novel, he knows who his parents are. He understands their motivations and what they’re like when they’re not being some of the lousiest parents you’ll encounter in print. More than that, he’ll know the kind of man he wants to be and he’ll know how he wants to become that kind of man.

Susan

Previously to now, we’ve seen Susan understand and support Spenser’s work. She may not enjoy it or agree with his methods, but she understands and supports him—even assists him as best as she can (when feasible). But that’s not the case in Early Autumn, she discourages Spenser from following his plan. She’s outright critical about parts of it, and spends most of the novel in one “funk” (Spenser’s word) or another. This case, and Spenser’s approach to it, puts a strain on their relationship, and it’s easy to understand why that is from her perspective (his, too, neither are wrong).

While Susan doesn’t seem to come across all that well for much of the book, she does come across as human. She’s not perfect, she’s a little jealous, she’s put out that Spenser will just drop strangers on her front door with no warning claiming to be in danger. But when the chips are down, she pitches in, and eventually embraces Spenser’s mission regarding Paul. In a few years, we won’t see that complex of a reaction from Susan. The character (and the series) will be less for that, so when possible, I’ve got to enjoy it.

Hawk

We get a scene in this book that in my mind we get a lot more than Parker actually wrote (although it does show up in Spener: For Hire a few times), someone has contacted Hawk about a hit on Spenser. Something Hawk would never do, but not too many people know that. It’s a great scene, and Hawk seems to enjoy it more than even I do.

He’s not around for much of this book, but when he is, it matters. I don’t think Hawk’s appearances before now have qualified, but I’d say he steals almost every scene he’s in. It’s one of those cases where a supporting character becomes as, if not more, beloved than the series protagonist/central character.

He’s ruthless, he’s dependable, and he does what he thinks is necessary—even when it conflicts with Spenser’s wishes—because he thinks Spener’s soft. Frequently, he lets Spenser’s “rules” get in the way of what he wants to do. But this time, he won’t–because he’s convinced it’ll get Spenser killed, and then Hawk would have to come along and get revenge later. He’d rather cut out the middle stuff and take care of it now. No matter what Hawk, Spenser, and others may say about the two of them being the same. They’re not. And it’s because of things like this.

The Criminal Investigation

As I said before, it’s obvious that Mel Giacomin is up to something. Upstanding citizens don’t enlist criminal help in a custody case (they wouldn’t know how). Spenser and Paul take very little time or effort (although there is some, helping Paul increase his grit) to uncover enough to send his father to jail—or to blackmail him into supporting Paul’s education while keeping him safe from further abductions.

It’s a step or two above perfunctory, and it really doesn’t matter. The core of this book is Paul. Paul and his relationship to his parents. Paul and Spenser. Paul starting to think and act on his own behalf, making choices, and being autonomous to whatever degree he can. Parker has to throw in the criminal activity because Spenser’s not Spenser without a villain to thwart. Also, how else would it stay in the genre?

So, what did I think about Early Autumn?

You’ve gotten yourself in a lot of trouble over this, Jack, and don’t you forget it,” he said.

I said, “Name’s Spenser with an S, like the poet. I’m in the Boston book.” I stepped through the door and closed it. Then I opened it again and stuck my head back into the hall. “Under Tough,” I said. And closed the door, and walked out.

I love it. We get the clearest, and most unabashed description of Spenser’s code of honor, code of life, and way of approaching things that we’ll ever get. He’s embarrassed to talk about it to Rachel Wallace, he’ll joke around the truth with others, and he and Susan will cover the same ground ad nauseam. But here he’s trying to pass it on to Paul, even if Paul doesn’t embrace it wholeheartedly, Spenser wants to inspire Paul to come up with his own code, his own guiding principles and the best way to do that is by being open an honest.

We learn so much about Spenser here that it’s essential reading for anyone wanting to understand the character.

I was younger than Paul the first few times I read this book, and I won’t say that it inspired me the same way it does Paul. I can’t say I developed the need for, or interest, in being an autonomous person, or in defining my own moral code. But the novel did inspire me, it made me think about life in a way that most people my age didn’t do (probably still don’t).

The dialogue was snappy, I learned early on that it a shrug shouldn’t be used as an all-purpose method of communication, the action was good (if almost an afterthought), and anything that contains a couple of strong Hawk scenes is worth the read.

This isn’t Spenser at his smartest, his toughest, or even his funniest. But it’s Spenser in the raw, the Platonic ideal of Spenser on display for readers and characters alike.

It’s a great read.

Classic Spenser: Looking for Rachel Wallace by Robert B. Parker

Classic Spenser

Looking for Rachel Wallace

Looking for Rachel Wallace

by Robert B. Parker
Series: Spenser, #6

Mass Market Paperback, 217 pg.
Dell, 1980

Read: June 26, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

“What is it you want to know?”

“Why you engage in things that are violent and dangerous.”

I sipped half a glass of beer. I took another bite of veal. “Well,” I said, “the violence is a kind of side-eiffect, I think. I have always wanted to live life on my own terms. And I have always tried to do what I can do. I am good at certain kinds of things; I have tried to go in that direction.”

“The answer doesn’t satisfy me,” Rachel said.

“It doesn’t have to. It satisfies me.”

“What he won’t say,” Susan said, “and what he may not even admit to himself is that he’d like to be Sir Gawain. He was born five hundred years too late. If you understand that, you understand most of what you are asking.”

“Six hundred years,” I said.

What’s Looking for Rachel Wallace About?

Spenser is hired to act as a bodyguard for Rachel Wallace. Wallace is a no-nonsense feminist activist and lesbian author. There have been threats made against her if her book exposing the discriminatory practices of several New England companies is published. The threats make little sense since the galleys have already been released (and therefore the material is out there), but they’re still there.

Despite clashing in their first meeting, Wallace agrees to her publisher’s choice in Spenser and he agrees to try not to annoy her. The two continue to squabble for the first eighty or so pages. Wallace keeps trying to provoke Spenser, questioning his professionalism, wanting to debate her brand of feminism with him. Spenser really doesn’t care about all that—and as much as he’s willing to discuss and think about those issues at other times (he’d read Wallace’s previous work before going to work for her)t—this is about work for him. He doesn’t care who she sleeps with, what she thinks, he’s about keeping her as safe as he can.

There is a moment where Wallace knows she’s going into somewhat hostile territory and tells Spenser to stand down beforehand. When security guards arrive to drag her off, and she goes limp to make it hard for them, Spenser intervenes. Which robs Wallace of the opportunity to make her statement, get the attention she wants, and hopefully a hearing with her target-audience. Wallace takes this as an insult, thinking Spenser’s machismo forced him to protect a (seemingly) helpless woman. And, yes, that’s true. But it’s also true, that if Wallace had been a male academic attracting this kind of response, he’d have done the same thing.

It was the wrong thing for Spenser to do regardless, which he admits later. Wallace fires him—and apparently doesn’t replace him. A couple of months later, she’s kidnapped. Belson* brings Spenser in for his perspective—and of course, that just spurs Spenser into his own investigation. He blames himself for not being a better employee, so he wasn’t around to protect her.

* It’s never explained why a homicide detective is brought in to discuss an abduction, but let that pass.

Spenser has very little to go off of here. He has one name, from a minor incident on his first day with Wallace to look into, and he essentially spends a lot of time trying to find evidence to tie this guy to the kidnapping. There’s also a KKK leader that Spenser arrested back when he was a law enforcement officer and hasn’t lost track of. Working off the assumption that a racist is going to operate in the same circles as a militant misogynist, Spenser harasses him for information. It works out (to a degree), but watching Spenser bully this guy on less than a hunch really bothered me.

Almost randomly, the one piece of evidence that Spenser (and Belson, to be fair) needs to tie everything together is essentially dropped into their lap. As a record blizzard descends on Boston, Spenser decides to walk (almost all roads are closed) fifteen miles to make the best of that piece of information. And well, you can guess the rest.

I Feel Compelled to Share this Quotation that has Nothing to do with the Plot

The Main Entrance to the Boston Public Library used to face Copley Square across Dartmouth Street. There was a broad exterior stairway and inside there was a beautiful marble staircase leading up to the main reading room with carved lions and high-domed ceilings. It was always a pleasure to go there. It felt like a library and looked like a library, and even when I was going in there to look up Duke Snider’s lifetime batting average, I used to feel like a scholar.

Then they grafted an addition on and shifted the main entrance to Boylston Street. Faithful to the spirit, the architect had probably said. But making a contemporary statement, I bet he said. The addition went with the original like Tab goes with pheasant. Now, even if I went into study the literary influence of Eleanor of Aquitaine, I felt like I’d come out with a pound of hamburger and a loaf of Wonder bread.

So, what did I think about Looking for Rachel Wallace?

I guess I’ve made it clear that this isn’t my favorite Spenser. But it’s not that I dislike it. I enjoy spending time with Spenser and Susan. I liked when Wallace and Spenser engaged with each other—seeing Spenser in these settings tells a lot about him, as does the way he reacts to Wallace. At the same time, it’s interesting seeing Spenser through her eyes (as mistaken as I think her estimation of him is, it’s not merit-less). The dialogue is great, Spenser verbally sparring with Wallace’s publisher and a prosecutor looking into her disappearance is just fun to read. I can’t forget there are some pretty good action scenes (even if Spenser does bring a handgun to a pie fight).

It’s just that this is the first one since The Godwulf Manuscript that I have to add provisos to my enjoyment. I have had the impression on many re-reads (including this time), that Parker was more interested in bringing up some of Wallace’s ideas, positions, and practices than he was in telling a good story. At the very least, he was frequently distracted during the telling.

Do I recommend it? Yeah, it’s a good read. It’s a great way to understand the character, and the story is okay. Am I in the same kind of fan-boy mode for it as I was for Mortal Stakes, The Judas Goat or Promised Land? Nope. Still, I’ll take this over almost Spenser novel from the 2000’s.

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Classic Spenser: The Judas Goat by Robert B. Parker

Classic Spenser

The Judas Goat

The Judas Goat

by Robert B. Parker
Series: Spenser, #5

Paperback, 203 pg.
Dell, 1978

Read: May 29, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

…I looked at my situation. If they were going to shoot me, there was little to prevent them. Maybe they weren’t going to shoot me, but I couldn’t plan much on that.

“You can’t plan on the enemy’s intentions,” I said. “You have to plan on what he can do, not what he might.”

A boy cleaning the tables looked at me oddly. “Beg pardon, sir?”

“Just remarking on military strategy. Ever do that? Sit around and talk to yourself about military strategy?”

“No, sir.”

“You’re probably wise not to.”

We start with Spenser calling on Hugh Dixon. The word “rich” seems inadequate to express the wealth that Dixon seems to possess. Nowadays, he could probably hire a private security firm to do what he needs—maybe he could’ve in 1978, too. But he’s done his research and has decided to hire Spenser instead because he knows Spenser’s integrity and priorities are what’s kept him “in the minor league.”

We’re given a great description of Dixon:

Full front, his face was accurate enough. It looked the way of face should, but it was like a skillful and uninspired sculpture. There was no motion in the face. No sense that blood flowed beneath it and thoughts evolved behind it. It was all surface, exact, detailed and dead.

Except the eyes. The eyes snarled with life and purpose, or something like that. I didn’t know exactly what then. Now I do.

The eyes snarled with a need for revenge. That’s pretty much all that’s keeping Dixon going. A year before, he, his wife and daughters were in a London restaurant that was bombed. Dixon lived, although he almost died and lost the use of his legs. The rest of his family did not. He wants Spenser to do what the London police have failed to do—find the terrorists responsible and bringing them to justice—either by apprehending them for the police or killing them. Dixon remained conscious during the attack and has detailed descriptions of the personnel involved. Spenser agrees, after insisting that he doesn’t do assassinations—unless forced out of self-defense, he won’t be killing anyone. It’s all okay with Dixon, but you get the clear impression that he’d prefer they died.

Spenser makes travel arrangements (including learning how to bring his gun into London), says goodbye to Susan, and leaves that night. Dixon’s London-based lawyer introduces him to a Scotland Yard inspector who worked the case. There’s a group called Liberty who claimed responsibility for the bombing. They’re small-time, right-wing, and draw their membership from around Europe—they’re likely based in Amsterdam, but that’s conjecture. Which really doesn’t give Spenser much to work on.

So he tries a little something to draw them out. It results in two of them dying and Spenser being shot in the, ahem, “upper thigh.” It also gives Spenser a lead to some others. While he calls Susan to tell her what happened, he also asks her to do him a favor—get word to Hawk that he could use some help (this both relieves and worries Susan, she wants him to have backup, but hates that he needs it).

From here, Spenser and Hawk follow leads for Liberty to Copenhagen and Amsterdam. They even have a brief confrontation with the leader of Liberty, a man named Paul. Paul’s not one of the men directly involved in the death of the Dixons, however. Spenser and Hawk determine that Liberty has something planned for the 1976 Olympics in Montreal, and decide that even though the job is done, they need to stop Paul.

On the one hand, it’s hard to believe that security at the Olympics is as lax as it appears, then again 1976 was a different time. Through a combination of luck and good guessing, there’s a final confrontation with Paul and one of his top associates that ends in a nine-page fistfight between Spenser, Hawk, and a giant of a man named Zachary. This fight blew my preteen/early teen-aged mind when I first read it, and became the standard by which I judged all similar scenes in fiction (there’s one in Lee Child’s Persuader that reminded me of this one—although, Reacher didn’t have anyone fighting on his side).

While there is some deduction at work, this is largely Spenser as vigilante, not as a private investigator. On the one hand, I prefer the P.I. On the other hand, it’s a good story and it demonstrates another side of Spenser that we don’t get to see much of early on. And like the rest of these first twelve, it’s hard for me to engage my critical faculties.

In addition to the globe-trotting and the intense action scenes, we get Spenser’s typical narration when it comes to describing places (one of my favorite elements of each book) and people. Spenser’s wit and compassion both get to shine. It’s just a fun read. The scene that results in his upper thigh wound is one of my favorites in the series—combining humor, tension, and action.

But the thing that struck me the most this time through is that what seems to really interest Parker—more than Spenser, more than this revenge story, or anything else—is Hawk. We met him in the last book, but we didn’t get that much time with him, just a handful of scenes. But he’s all over this novel.

Spenser calling Hawk to come help represents a turning point in the series. It’s not an automatic thing yet, but from here on out, it’s more common for Spenser to call up on Hawk for help than not. The self-sufficient, independent operator develops a real dependence. It’s a real boon for the reader, for as fun as Spenser’s interior monologues are, having him banter with Hawk becomes a reliable highlight. There might be other, earlier, writers who’ve had a relationship like this, but I’m not aware of them (and would like to be). In Spenser and Hawk, we get the template that Elvis Cole and Joe Pike follow, or Patrick Kenzie/Angie Gennaro and Bubba Rugowski, or Walt Longmire and Henry Standing Bear, or Joe Pickett and Nate Romanowski, among others. The outsider, the friend/ally that the mostly lawful protagonist can rely on when there’s a need for something outside the law.

From Promised Land, we know that Hawk and Spenser fought on the same card in their youth; we know he’s stylish (I guess); that he’s respectful of Susan; he’s an enforcer, a leg-breaker, for whoever is paying for him at the moment; and he has some sort of code that reminds Spenser of his (with significant differences in Spenser’s mind, but not so much in Hawk’s).

Here we learn a bit more, he can disappear into a crowd, despite his flashy clothes and is almost infallible when tailing someone. Shortly after arriving in London, the two have some drinks while Spenser catches Hawk up on what’s going on and notes:

He showed no sign that he drunk anything. In fact in the time I’d known Hawk I’d never seen him show a sign of anything. He laughed easily and he was never off balance. But whatever went on inside stayed inside. Or maybe nothing went on inside. Hawk was as impassive and hard as an obsidian carving. Maybe that was what went on inside.

Later, when Spenser is in Boston to update Dixon, he leaves one member of Liberty with Hawk, as they use her as a source of information on the rest of the group. When Susan asks if that’s safe to do, Spenser replies:

“Hawk has no feelings,” I said. “But he has rules. If she fits one of his rules, he’ll treat her very well. If she doesn’t, he’ll treat her any way the mood strikes him.”

“Do you really think he has no feelings?”

“I have never seen any. He’s as good as anyone 1 ever saw at what he does. But he never seems happy or sad or frightened or elated. He never, in the twenty-some years I’ve known him, here and there, has shown any sign of love or compassion. He’s never been nervous. He’s never been mad.”

“Is he as good as you?” Susan was resting her chin on her folded hands and looking at me.

“He might be,” I said. “He might be better.”

“He didn’t kill you last year on Cape Cod when he was supposed to. He must have felt something then.”

“I think he likes me, the way he likes wine, the way he doesn’t like gin. He preferred me to the guy he was working for. He sees me as a version of himself. And, somewhere in there, killing me on the say-so of a guy like Powers was in violation of one of the rules. I don’t know. I wouldn’t have killed him either.”

“Are you a version of him?”

“I got feelings,” I said. “I love.”

“Yes, you do,” Susan said.

Part of this conversation will repeat throughout the series—is Hawk better than Spenser? Are the two versions of each other (this was touched upon already in Promised Land)? Does Hawk feel?

Hawk will contend that the two of them are more similar than Spenser will admit, but in The Judas Goat and in countless other books, he will note that Spenser’s abundance of rules helps him to deny that similarity, over-complicates Spenser’s life, and one day will get him killed. There are times when Spenser agrees to all of that (even the last), but those are the only terms upon which he can live his life, so that’s how it’s going to have to be.

Exciting, amusing, tense, and we get to delve for the first time into the character that’s arguably Parker’s greatest creation. The Judas Goat really has it all. If only so I had an excuse to read this one again, I’m so glad I started this little project this year. It will serve as a decent jumping-on point, for those who want one, and it’s a great spot to return to for long-term fans.


This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

The Friday 56 for 5/28/20

The Friday 56This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice

RULES:
The Friday 56 Grab a book, any book.
The Friday 56 Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
The Friday 56 Find a snippet, short and sweet.
The Friday 56 Post it

from Page 56 of:
The Judas Goat

The Judas Goat by Robert B. Parker

The doctor put a pressure bandage on my, ah, thigh, and gave me some pills for the pain. “You’ll walk funny for a few days,” he said. “After that you should be fine. Though you’ll have an extra dimple in your cheeks now.”

“I’m glad there’s socialized medicine,” I said. “If only there was a vow of silence that went with it.”

Classic Spenser: Promised Land by Robert B. Parker

Classic Spenser

Promised Land

Promised Land

by Robert B. Parker
Series: Spenser, #4

Mass Market Paperback, 218 pg.
Dell Publishing, 1976

Read: April 30, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

“Whose picture is on a one-hundred dollar bill?” I said.

“Nelson Rockefeller.” [Susan said]

“Wrong.”

“David Rockefeller?”

“Never mind.”

“Laurence Rockefeller?”

“Where would you like to go to lunch?”

“You shouldn’t have shown me the money. I was going to settle for Ugi’s steak and onion subs. Now I’m thinking about Pier 4.”

“Pier 4 it is…Come on, we’ll go back to my place and suit up.”

“When you get a client,” Susan said, “you galvanize into action, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. I move immediately to the nearest restaurant.”

Harv Shepard’s wife walked out on him and he wants Spenser to find her and bring her home. Spenser agrees to the first part of that—he’ll find her, make sure she’s healthy and under no duress, but he won’t force her to come home. Shepard agrees to that, so Spenser starts digging. It takes him practically no time at all to discover that their relationship wasn’t as good as Shepard insists it was (Shepard doesn’t seem to find his wife leaving home to be a big clue)—and that Pam herself might not be as happy or well-adjusted as she let on.

It doesn’t take Spenser that long at all to find Pam and see that she’s okay. She’s not that interested in coming home, and Spenser’s prepared to let it lie like that. But she soon calls Spenser for help—and like the knight errant he is, Spenser obliges. She’s found herself neck-deep in serious legal problems and it’ll take an ingenious plan to get her out of it while not letting criminals get away with anything.

The trickier part of the equation comes from a man called Hawk.* When Spenser first arrives at Shepard’s house,

Shepard appeared from the door past the stairs. With him was a tall black man with a bald head and high cheekbones. He had on a powder blue leisure suite and a pink silk shirt with a big collar. The shirt was unbuttoned to the waist and the chest and stomach that showed were hard and unadorned as ebony. He took a pair of sunglasses from the breast pocket of the jacket and put them on, he stared at me over their rims until very slowly the lenses covered his eyes and he started at me through them.

* Yeah, I couldn’t resist.

As Spenser soon tells Shepard, Hawk’s presence means that he’s got bigger problems than a missing wife. Shepard denies it, but Spenser believes he’s into a loan shark and/or mobster for a pretty large sum and is behind on payments. It won’t be long until Hawk is hurting Shepard—if not more than that—in order to get this money.

Hawk and Spenser go far back—they used to fight on the same heavyweight card and come into frequent contact in their current occupations. Hawk’s a freelancer and is one of the best in Boston. He’s not a good guy, but he has a code. There’s a mutual respect between the two and Spenser is quick to defend Hawk against Shepard’s racial slurs. Hawk as a character deserves more space than I’m giving him at the moment—but that’s all I can do for now. I’ll probably find a way to give him a few paragraphs in the post about the next book.

So not only does Spenser need to get Pam out of her legal mess, he takes on getting Harv out of his illegal mess. He does so through a complicated set-up assisted by a couple of the funniest cops I remember reading about. It’s a shame that neither of these reappear the way that Healy, Belson and Quirk do (although, it’d be hard to take them seriously). It’s hard to explain, you’ll need to read them for yourselves.

Toward the end of the previous book, Mortal Stakes it looked like Spenser is getting more serious about Susan and less serious about his other dating relationship with Brenda Loring—there’s a reference to Brenda early on in this book*, but by the end, Susan and Spenser are as close to married as they’re ever going to get—essentially pledging monogamy without the legal/religious contract. This is huge for the genre at the time—and bigger for the character.

* Unless I’m mistaken, that’s the last reference to Brenda outside of a short story in the series. [Update: She’s mentioned in the next book, so I read the reference about 5 hours after I published this]

While Spenser tries to extricate the Shepards from the trouble they’ve found themselves in—and hopefully provide them with the opportunity to work on their marriage (at least enough to make a calm decision about its fate), Parker uses the Shepards as well as Susan and Spenser to discuss second-wave feminism in a somewhat abstract fashion, but also in concrete terms as it applies to each of these couples. Parker takes the opportunity to opine a bit on isms and how they tend to swallow the individual—where he prefers to consider such topics (this is assuming that Spenser and Parker align on these ideas, but there’s no reason to suspect they don’t). The reader may not agree with them any of the views they read in these pages, but they’re fairly well reasoned.

In Promised Land, we meet Hawk and Susan and Spenser become permanent (for lack of a better term). These two things are the final pieces to come into place as the foundation for the series—they’ll take a more final form in the next book, but we have them all now. Every other book in the series is built on what’s introduced up to this point and finalized in The Judas Goat. For a series that’s lasted 44 years after the publication of this one, that’s quite the accomplishment.

A significant portion of American Detective Fiction since then will be shaped by this, too—people will be reacting against this set-up or putting their series in a similar vein. Personally, I’ll get to the point (eventually) where Susan stops adding anything to the series. But I’ve yet to tire of Hawk. He may be the kind of guy who should spend the rest of his life behind bars, but he’s also the kind of character than you can’t help but love when he shows up on the page. We’ll revisit Hawk (and his contribution to the series) later, but for now, it’s just good to sit back and enjoy him.

You take all the above, mix them together—and you’ve got a true classic. Parker looks at marriage and feminism—and, of course, honor—while his protagonist matches wits with a mobster. Told with Parker’s trademark style and wit. Few things are as good as that—fewer yet are better.


5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Classic Spenser: Mortal Stakes by Robert B. Parker

Classic Spenser

Mortal Stakes

Mortal Stakes

by Robert B. Parker
Series: Spenser, #3

Mass Market Paperback, 328 pg.
Dell, 1975

Read: March 30, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!


After stumbling onto Spenser: For Hire—I think during season 2 summer re-runs, I headed to my local library and grabbed the earliest in the series they had—Mortal Stakes. This wasn’t the first “adult” novel or mystery that I’d tried, but it was the best. Between Parker’s voice, Spenser’s wit, and the kind of story it told, I was sold and spent the next few months getting my hands on every one of the series I could. Re-reading this one is always like coming home.

Spenser is hired by a Boston Red Sox executive to investigate their best pitcher, Marty Rabb. There’s a hint of a suggestion of a rumor that he’s shaving points on behalf of gamblers, and the executive wants to know if it’s true. If so, he wants to address it quitely, If Rabb’s clean, he wants to know that quietly.

It takes no time at all for Spenser to determine that he is—and why. The bulk of the novel is Spenser’s attempt to learn who is blackmailing Rabb to do this and then to extricate him from their grip before it ruins his career and/or marriage. This is a significant challenge.

Spenser sees a lot of himself in Rabb—they share the same values, sense of honor, sense of play. Spenser will later look into a similar case in Playmates, and he’ll meet a similar athlete—only his sport is College Basketball. Parker will often use clients to shine a light on an aspect of Spenser’s character, usually by way of contrast—but with athletes, it’s because of similarity.

On the expanding Spenser-verse front, we meet New York Madam, Patricia Utley. She’s no “hooker with a heart of gold,” by any means. She’s a businesswoman first and foremost. She does remember where she came from, and can occasionally be counted on to display a bit of sentimentality. She will reappear several times in this series (and will make appearances in related series)—a reliable source of information as well as a resource.

In The Godwulf Manuscript we saw Spenser physically rough up a couple of college kids and verbally push around an older man. Each incident is followed by Spenser berating himself. In a fit of pique following a botched stakeout for the ransom delivery in God Save the Child, Spenser breaks the handle of the rake he was using as a prop and feels so bad that he leaves money to pay for it. Parker goes out of his way to show Spenser’s conscience. Yet in this book, Spenser arranges to outright kill two people. Yes, he’s wracked with guilt—physically ill—but he’s able to justify it to himself. Which mostly works, but he has to go to Susan Silverman to talk things out and convince himself he did the right thing.

This book shows that Spenser is changing. He doesn’t like being alone—he needs to talk some of the difficult things through with Susan. He’s had a couple of dates with Brenda Loring earlier in the book—but he notes she’s good for having fun with, but for serious talk, it has to be Susan. I appreciate the slow growth in the character here.

This isn’t the best Spenser volume—but it’s a very good one. This is the first (of many) extended look at Spenser’s code. We see Spenser wade in deep ethical waters (and doesn’t necessarily come out clean). But most importantly, we see Spenser doing all he can—whether his employer wants him to or not—to dig a couple of people out form a tight spot. Mortal Stakes is Parker at his best and is just a pleasure to read.


5 Stars

Pub Day Repost: Robert B. Parker’s Grudge Match by Mike Lupica: Sunny Randall’s Forced to Work for an Enemy as Lupica Settles into the Series

Grudge Match

Robert B. Parker’s Grudge Match

by Mike Lupica
Series: Sunny Randall, #8

eARC, 210 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020

Read: April 21-22, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!


As I said last year when Lupica debuted his continuation of the Sunny Randall books with Blood Feud, I’ve had a complicated relationship with Sunny and was ambivalent with the series re-starting. However, I enjoyed Blood Feud (although comments on my post said I came across as lukewarm, I didn’t mean to) and really thought that Lupica had a good take on the character.

Thankfully, we don’t have a sophomore slump here, I think Lupica’s feeling more comfortable in these shoes and delivered something a little more ambitious. Tony Marcus begins this book by describing the best way to hold a grudge—and then goes on to point out all the reasons Sunny has recently given him to hold one against her. If nothing else is clear from this, you do not want Marcus harboring anything for you. He does this just to impress upon Sunny that his offer of employment is something she should strongly consider.

Tony’s lover, confidante, right hand, and former employee has left him. Without warning, without notice—and Tony wants her back. He’s not that concerned for her safety, he’s a little concerned that she defected to some new competition for his turf, but mostly he just wants to know what happened and how he can win her back. Sunny (and this reader) is fairly convinced by Marcus—she doesn’t think Marcus wants to hurt her, he just wants her back. Sunny hems and haws, but agrees to take on the case—for her own safety and because she’s able to convince herself that she’s actually working for Lisa Morneau, not Marcus.

This puts her on a path to explore the world of prostitution in Boston—this isn’t the first time Sunny’s done something like this, but this time she’s working for Marcus, which opens a few more doors. She meets with Lisa’s closest friend, someone she helped get out of the life, as well as former colleagues. Sunny also has several run-ins with Marcus’s new competitor, who seems like he’s wanting to start a war with him.

At some point, the trail leads to Paradise—leading to Sunny meeting up with Jesse Stone. The two banter and flirt a bit, and Jesse offers some help on the Paradise front. It was nice to see them together again (I’ve often thought the best use of the Sunny character was as Stone’s associate).

Now, it’s not long before the search for Lisa results in murder—and Lisa herself is frightened, sure that she’s next. Which drives Sunny to start to look into why would someone want to threaten her. What does Lisa know that makes her dangerous? And can Sunny use this knowledge to save Lisa and prevent the gang war on the verge of erupting?

While that’s going on Richie’s (other) ex-wife moves back to Boston with their son, Richard, and now wants Richie to play the role in Richard’s life that she’d previously blocked him from. Richie responds as any father worthy of the title would—he’s overjoyed and turns his life upside down to accommodate that without a second thought. Sunny recognizes that this is the way he should react, but can’t quite get on board with it herself in the same way—for a combination of reasons, some petty, some understandable (maybe some fit under both columns). It’s a dicey story for all characters involved and Lupica deals with it well.

Lupica goes out of his way to make sure it’s obvious that this takes place in the Parker-verse outside of Paradise. Of course, Sunny sees her therapist, Susan Silverman; Sunny consults Lee Farrell a few times (nice to see him again) and they talk about Frank Belson once or twice (the new captain, too); Vinne Morris pops in briefly; there’s a mention of Patricia Utley, and something Tony Marcus says places this at the same time as Angel Eyes. That’s nice and pretty fun, but he’s almost name-dropping enough to make him seem desperate to prove his legitimacy as a Parker fan. “No, really, I’m qualified to write these books, let me show you how familiar I am with all the series.” I think Atkins came close to this in his first two Spenser books, Coleman in his first Jesse Stone, so it’s not unique to Lupica. Also, he doesn’t get to the point of desperation, but he’s close—if he can just dial that back a bit now, he’s proved himself.

Feel free to skip this paragraph, I dance right down the border of The Spoiler Zone (and might put a couple of toes into it). My gut reaction to the way things were left with the Richie/Richard storyline is pretty negative. It’s hard to get into without spoiling things, but…Richie reacted irrationally to things given his family and who he knows Sunny is, and Sunny took the easy way out with things (Susan Silverman would not approve—if she let herself approve/disapprove of Sunny’s actions). Now, this doesn’t mean that Lupica fell down in the writing—he’s actually writing the characters the way they were created, flaws and all. I’d like to see some growth in the characters and we didn’t get that yet—but that could be because he’s setting things up for future books. Or, he could be letting these two stagnate where they are (see Parker’s treatment of Stone in the later books).

Sunny has a good deal of internal discussion about how she’s finding herself in the situations she’s facing because of decisions men have reached, and not herself—she’s reacting too much to men’s choices. She resolves not to be the threatened, but to be the one threatening. I think there’s a lot of merit to these lines of thinking—but she seems to go through this (or something pretty close to it) in every book (by Lupica or Parker). At some point, it’d be nice to see her move past this—or add some nuance or wisdom to this consideration.

Lupica keeps things moving throughout—even when Sunny’s investigation starts going in circles, the plot keeps going. He writes confidently and with just enough flair to make this fit in the Parker-verse. There’s a joke or two that he returns to too often, but it feels in-character for Sunny’s narration to do that, so I’m not complaining.

The last line…I’m not going to say anything about it, but I could fill an entire post with what I like about it, what it makes me fear, and how I should’ve seen it as inevitable. But… I’m not going to say anything about it because I don’t play that way. Feel free to talk about it in the comments after the book comes out, though.

So, I have a lot to say about this, it turns out—but it boils down to this: Grudge Match was a fast, easy read—the plot and the prose were as smooth as you could want. Lupica has captured the voice of the Sunny Randall books and has made it his own. While I was bothered by a couple of the character beats toward the end—they didn’t take away from my enjoyment of the book. If you’re a Sunny fan, you’ll be entertained. This actually would work as a pretty decent entry point to the series, too—it’s pretty accessible (including the ongoing arcs, Lupica makes sure that people who are new to the series or haven’t read them since the last Parker in ’07 have enough information to tap into them).

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Putnam Books via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.


3.5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Robert B. Parker’s Grudge Match by Mike Lupica: Sunny Randall’s Forced to Work for an Enemy as Lupica Settles into the Series

Grudge Match

Robert B. Parker’s Grudge Match

by Mike Lupica
Series: Sunny Randall, #8

eARC, 210 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020

Read: April 21-22, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!


As I said last year when Lupica debuted his continuation of the Sunny Randall books with Blood Feud, I’ve had a complicated relationship with Sunny and was ambivalent with the series re-starting. However, I enjoyed Blood Feud (although comments on my post said I came across as lukewarm, I didn’t mean to) and really thought that Lupica had a good take on the character.

Thankfully, we don’t have a sophomore slump here, I think Lupica’s feeling more comfortable in these shoes and delivered something a little more ambitious. Tony Marcus begins this book by describing the best way to hold a grudge—and then goes on to point out all the reasons Sunny has recently given him to hold one against her. If nothing else is clear from this, you do not want Marcus harboring anything for you. He does this just to impress upon Sunny that his offer of employment is something she should strongly consider.

Tony’s lover, confidante, right hand, and former employee has left him. Without warning, without notice—and Tony wants her back. He’s not that concerned for her safety, he’s a little concerned that she defected to some new competition for his turf, but mostly he just wants to know what happened and how he can win her back. Sunny (and this reader) is fairly convinced by Marcus—she doesn’t think Marcus wants to hurt her, he just wants her back. Sunny hems and haws, but agrees to take on the case—for her own safety and because she’s able to convince herself that she’s actually working for Lisa Morneau, not Marcus.

This puts her on a path to explore the world of prostitution in Boston—this isn’t the first time Sunny’s done something like this, but this time she’s working for Marcus, which opens a few more doors. She meets with Lisa’s closest friend, someone she helped get out of the life, as well as former colleagues. Sunny also has several run-ins with Marcus’s new competitor, who seems like he’s wanting to start a war with him.

At some point, the trail leads to Paradise—leading to Sunny meeting up with Jesse Stone. The two banter and flirt a bit, and Jesse offers some help on the Paradise front. It was nice to see them together again (I’ve often thought the best use of the Sunny character was as Stone’s associate).

Now, it’s not long before the search for Lisa results in murder—and Lisa herself is frightened, sure that she’s next. Which drives Sunny to start to look into why would someone want to threaten her. What does Lisa know that makes her dangerous? And can Sunny use this knowledge to save Lisa and prevent the gang war on the verge of erupting?

While that’s going on Richie’s (other) ex-wife moves back to Boston with their son, Richard, and now wants Richie to play the role in Richard’s life that she’d previously blocked him from. Richie responds as any father worthy of the title would—he’s overjoyed and turns his life upside down to accommodate that without a second thought. Sunny recognizes that this is the way he should react, but can’t quite get on board with it herself in the same way—for a combination of reasons, some petty, some understandable (maybe some fit under both columns). It’s a dicey story for all characters involved and Lupica deals with it well.

Lupica goes out of his way to make sure it’s obvious that this takes place in the Parker-verse outside of Paradise. Of course, Sunny sees her therapist, Susan Silverman; Sunny consults Lee Farrell a few times (nice to see him again) and they talk about Frank Belson once or twice (the new captain, too); Vinne Morris pops in briefly; there’s a mention of Patricia Utley, and something Tony Marcus says places this at the same time as Angel Eyes. That’s nice and pretty fun, but he’s almost name-dropping enough to make him seem desperate to prove his legitimacy as a Parker fan. “No, really, I’m qualified to write these books, let me show you how familiar I am with all the series.” I think Atkins came close to this in his first two Spenser books, Coleman in his first Jesse Stone, so it’s not unique to Lupica. Also, he doesn’t get to the point of desperation, but he’s close—if he can just dial that back a bit now, he’s proved himself.

Feel free to skip this paragraph, I dance right down the border of The Spoiler Zone (and might put a couple of toes into it). My gut reaction to the way things were left with the Richie/Richard storyline is pretty negative. It’s hard to get into without spoiling things, but…Richie reacted irrationally to things given his family and who he knows Sunny is, and Sunny took the easy way out with things (Susan Silverman would not approve—if she let herself approve/disapprove of Sunny’s actions). Now, this doesn’t mean that Lupica fell down in the writing—he’s actually writing the characters the way they were created, flaws and all. I’d like to see some growth in the characters and we didn’t get that yet—but that could be because he’s setting things up for future books. Or, he could be letting these two stagnate where they are (see Parker’s treatment of Stone in the later books).

Sunny has a good deal of internal discussion about how she’s finding herself in the situations she’s facing because of decisions men have reached, and not herself—she’s reacting too much to men’s choices. She resolves not to be the threatened, but to be the one threatening. I think there’s a lot of merit to these lines of thinking—but she seems to go through this (or something pretty close to it) in every book (by Lupica or Parker). At some point, it’d be nice to see her move past this—or add some nuance or wisdom to this consideration.

Lupica keeps things moving throughout—even when Sunny’s investigation starts going in circles, the plot keeps going. He writes confidently and with just enough flair to make this fit in the Parker-verse. There’s a joke or two that he returns to too often, but it feels in-character for Sunny’s narration to do that, so I’m not complaining.

The last line…I’m not going to say anything about it, but I could fill an entire post with what I like about it, what it makes me fear, and how I should’ve seen it as inevitable. But… I’m not going to say anything about it because I don’t play that way. Feel free to talk about it in the comments after the book comes out, though.

So, I have a lot to say about this, it turns out—but it boils down to this: Grudge Match was a fast, easy read—the plot and the prose were as smooth as you could want. Lupica has captured the voice of the Sunny Randall books and has made it his own. While I was bothered by a couple of the character beats toward the end—they didn’t take away from my enjoyment of the book. If you’re a Sunny fan, you’ll be entertained. This actually would work as a pretty decent entry point to the series, too—it’s pretty accessible (including the ongoing arcs, Lupica makes sure that people who are new to the series or haven’t read them since the last Parker in ’07 have enough information to tap into them).

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Putnam Books via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this.


3.5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

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