Category: Spenser Page 1 of 4

Robert B. Parker’s Broken Trust by Mike Lupica: Lupica Earns Some Trust from This Longtime Spenser Fan

Robert B. Parker's Broken TrustRobert B. Parker’s Broken Trust

by Mike Lupica

DETAILS:
Series: Spenser, #51
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Publication Date: November 28, 2023
Format: Hardcover
Length: 382 pg.
Read Date: November 30-December 2, 2023
Buy from Bookshop.org Support Indie Bookstores

We sat there in silence for a few moments, as if each of us were waiting for the other to make the next move. It often went this way with potential clients, like an awkward first date, and just how much they wanted to drop their guard.

“So how can I help you, Mrs. Crain?”

“Please. Laura.”

“So how can I help you, Laura.”

Her blue eyes were so pale as to be as clear as glass.

“That’s the thing,” she said. “You probably can’t.”

What’s Broken Trust About?

From that promising start, Laura Crain—the wife of the US’s 6th richest man—asks Spenser to help. Her husband has been acting strangely, and neither Laura nor his business partner can understand why. Their company is on the verge of completing a merger that will make them richer yet and will secure the company’s place in the electric car market.

The richer part isn’t that important—outside of the increasing opportunities for the very philanthropic couple to give even more money to causes. But strengthening the company to keep doing what it’s been doing is important to the Crains—they’re committed to this kind of environmentally friendly industry.

Spenser has a hard time starting his investigation because it’s such a vague target—maybe he can’t help her after all, but something about Laura Crain makes him want to try. He’s (reportedly, although some downplay this) almost paranoid, having outbursts—one nearly violent one is witnessed by Spenser—and his volatility puts many things at risk.

Then someone tied to the company is murdered. Spenser is threatened. Not long after that, someone else dies, too (probably another murder, even if it’s initially unclear). And now Spenser has a bigger mess to look into, assuming he can keep everyone else connected to the case safe and the target off his back.

The Obligatory Street-Cred Establishment

Each time a new author takes the reins of a Parker series, their first book is full of them establishing their bona fides when it comes to the series. They have to show that they understand the protagonist, the supporting characters, and the history of the series through references to past cases, quick/extended appearances of various supporting characters, etc. And Lupica goes above and beyond with these—almost all of them feeling like they were apropos in the moment, thankfully. I started to keep a mental list of his efforts, then I switched to writing them down when the list got long enough—then I abandoned it because I had better things to pay attention to and it was getting too long to print here.

The punchline? The dude knows his stuff and can show it off.

He even brings in a connection to Gino Fish. Given how long Gino’s been dead, that was nice. And, as difficult as it might be to justify returning to that connection, I’d enjoy Lupica finding a way to do it. I really enjoyed that particular character.

Now, I didn’t think that Sunny Randall’s quick appearance was necessary—nor do I think Richie Burke added much. But I liked how the latter was used (which may contradict what I just said about him), and it was a clever thing to do.

Martin Quirk

Martin Quirk gets a couple of good scenes here and his presence is felt outside of them, too—Belson brings him up a few times, which helps—but Quirk casts enough of a shadow it wasn’t that necessary. Part of that is due to the whole cred establishment, but not all of it, I don’t think. It also fits pretty well with this book—and you’d expect someone with his rank to be getting involved given the prominence of the people involved in these murders.

Beyond that, however, if Lupica wasn’t planting seeds for something major on the Quirk-front in the next book or two, then he faked me out pretty well. I hope he didn’t because I’m pretty curious about it—we haven’t gotten a lot of good Quirk material in a long time (since he got Spenser out of that southern jail cell back in the 90s, maybe?).

Mike Lupica

And what’s going on with Quirk is just one of the moves Lupica is making to put his own stamp on this series. And that’s one of the things I really appreciate about both the Publisher/the Estate’s handling of these authors taking over—they allow them to make changes to the characters. I’d absolutely understand if they had to keep the characters in some sort of stasis from how Parker had left them, like an ’80s TV drama or something.

I’m holding off forming an impression about what Lupica is doing with some of the characters at this point, I need to see it worked out a little more. But I do appreciate him taking ownership and making the moves.

I’ll be frank—I thought he did okay with the Sunny Randall books (the series I have the least attachment to, so I didn’t care too much how he did), and while I thought he was a step down from Coleman, he’s doing okay with the Jesse Stone books. But giving him the keys to the Ferrari of Parker’s series? That seemed like a dangerous move.

However, I think of all his Parker-verse work, this was the strongest. He rose to the occasion, and I’m greatly relieved. I hope he can continue it.

So, what did I think about Broken Trust?

He looked around. “We looking fo anything in particular?” Hawk said.

“What we’re always looking for,” I said. “Something that will make us feel smart when we find it.”

“Could be here awhile,” he said.

One of my favorite parts about almost every Spenser novel is the initial conversation between Spenser and the client. Lupica nailed it, I thought. After that strong start, things kept rolling at or near that level for just about the rest of the book.

It wasn’t perfect, by any means, but it was quite good. For example, some of the Hawk-Spenser banter is a little jokier than usual—Hawk, in particular, seems a little looser as he teases Spenser over a handful of things. It’s subtle, but it’s there. I enjoyed it—maybe too much—but I think Lupica could dial back Hawk a notch or two.

To be a little more pointed: the last page (or so) of Chapter Eighty-Three, all of Chapter Eighty-Four, and the last half of Chapter Eighty-Five (which, sadly is the last half chapter of the book) were let-downs. If you took the first half of Eighty-Five and put it earlier and made Eighty-Tree/the novel end with the conversation in Spenser’s office, I’d have been more satisfied. I can’t remember when I’ve been so specific about this kind of thing (not a habit I’m inclined to get into, either)—but that probably says how much it rankled me. I probably would’ve given the book another half-star (at least) without these pages.

Lupica did a good job with Susan—a character that can frequently be divisive, but he dealt with her well (and the conversations with her about the case didn’t drag the book down). Other than Hawk’s teasing, I thought he did a great job with Hawk and the other returning characters*.

* He did brush off one of the more tantalizing things that Atkins left for him regarding Hawk in less than a sentence, however. I think that was a mistake, but I get it, too.

As for Spenser himself? I give Lupica high marks—both for keeping Spenser vulnerable, fallible, and human while seemingly superhuman at times. There’s a point where Spenser wonders if he’s invented a red herring for himself on one line of inquiry, which was a nice touch. Spenser takes probably the least likely punch he’s received in the series to date—and I believed it (and quite enjoyed the fallout). Basically, he treated the character with the respect due, and I suspect that comes from a fellow fan’s heart.

I really liked the case—and the turns it took. I do wonder if Lupica wrote himself into a little corner and had to use a deus ex machina to get him out of it in the latter chapters. It worked well enough that I’m not complaining—nor am I wholly convinced that’s what happened. It just seems like one (which is bad enough). But the layers to the case, the motives of the potential suspects, how everything played out in the end, and the secrets that came to light (and how they came to light) were really well handled and worthy of Parker at his best.

Color me satisfied with this one, and my trust in Lupica strengthened. I think this would be a decent jumping-on point for someone curious about the character—or the idea of an aging PI still plugging away at things. Check this one out.


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, the opinions expressed are my own.
Irresponsible Reader Pilcrow Icon

Robert B. Parker’s Bye Bye Baby by Ace Atkins: Atkins’ Farewell to Spenser Will Not Disappoint their Fans

Bye Bye BabyRobert B. Parker’s Bye Bye Baby

by Ace Atkins

DETAILS:
Series: Spenser, #50
Publisher: G.P. Putnam's Sons
Publication Date: January 11, 2022
Format: Hardcover
Length: 304 pg.
Read Date: January 19, 2022
Support Independent Bookstores - Visit IndieBound.org

Over the years, many things have changed about my profession. I no longer kept an actual landline on my desk. Since no one had called it since a little past the first of the millennium, I discontinued the service.

My superhuman ability to scroll through microfilm was no longer in demand. Almost anything I needed to look up, from old news stories, to criminal histories, to vehicle records, could be found online. Although I missed my visits to the Boston Public Library, I’d accepted the long, boring hours at my desk, thinking about how many old cases I could’ve solved with Google.

What’s Bye Bye Baby About?

Spenser’s hired by the campaign manager for a Congresswoman during her first re-election bid. Carolina Garcia-Ramirez, aka CGR, has had enemies since she first announced her candidacy (despite its reputation, Boston has a fair share of people antagonistic to a progressive woman politician—especially if she’s a minority), but lately, the threats are more specific and indicate inside information. Despite the Congresswoman’s resistance to the idea, Spenser joins her team as both a bodyguard and to investigate these threats.

Suspects range from any number of racist and alt-right groups, lone individuals, and someone related to the campaign of her opponent—the same man she unseated during the last primary.

It’s not long before Spenser runs into FBI agents, who have a different agenda regarding the Garcia-Ramirez. Spenser wants to stop whoever’s threatening her—as soon as possible. The FBI is more concerned with leveraging these threats into making a larger case against extremists in the region. They do agree, however, that the threats are real and the Congresswoman is in real danger.

The Hawk Storyline

In exchange for helping Spender on CGR-Duty, Hawk asks him to try to track down a woman from his past. Hawk rarely (that we see) asks Spenser for help with something in exchange for his services, so that was noteworthy in and of itself. But for him to ask for this kind of favor? Double strange.

Sadly, most of the developments in this story happen off-screen. And while there are plenty of surprises in it, because it’s so off-screen, it’s too easy to overlook what’s going on. (I honestly only remembered to write something about it just before I hit “Schedule” on this post)

Too Political?

There’s a lot of talk about Atkins making this too political (not the first time it’s been said about his Spenser novels). I can only imagine this was written by people who skipped a handful of Parker’s novels, primarily Looking for Rachel Wallace.

I say that not just because it was Parker at his (arguably) most political,* but this novel was clearly influenced by Looking for Rachel Wallace—I made note of the resemblance on page 18 (but I’d wondered about it before then), and it only became clearer as the book went on.

* Double Deuce, Thin Air, and Pale Kings and Princes jumped to mind as clearly political, too. If I let myself spend time thinking about it, I’d have no problem coming up with more.

Yes, Carolina Garcia-Ramirez/CGR, is obviously modeled on Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez/AOC. The crimes planned and attempted have similarly obvious recent real-world parallels. But this is not a book that only partisans can enjoy, if they can put up with Spenser pushing back on the stances of his Republican client in The Widening Gyre*, they can put up with this. Come to think of it, The Widening Gyre is pretty important for the background to this book.

* Oh, look, another one!

Also, if taking a strong anti-racist stance is going to get someone who’s a fan of Hawk, Bobby Horse, Chollo, and Sixkill decrying the political stance. Maybe they haven’t been paying attention to the series.

Bye Bye, Atkins

“Have you found any suspects?” Susan said.

“Nope.”

“Got any leads?” she said.

“Zip.”

“Planning on doing more than just poking around and annoying people?”

“Why mess with a winning formula?”

Alas, that’s exactly what’s going to happen—the winning formula of Ace Atkins donning the Parker mantle for this series is no more, and Mike Lupica will be taking over.

Atkins is moving on so he can write some projects of his own that he doesn’t have time for while handling Spenser. That’s absolutely understandable, and I look forward to seeing what he’s going to do. But I’m going to miss him with these characters and series—I remember being about a quarter of the way through Lullaby and breathing a sigh of relief—not only was he as good as Parker, he was as good as Parker in his prime. I thought I’d be saying goodbye to a very old friend after Parker died, and Atkins let me hang on a little longer.

I’m a little worried about the series. Lupica’s doing a good job with Sunny Randall (his last one is forthcoming this year), and isn’t bad with the Jesse Stone books. But I doubt he’s going to be as good as Atkins with Spenser. I’m hoping to eat my words, though.

So, what did I think about Bye Bye Baby?

“You think these threats could be legitimate?”

“Maybe” [Wayne Cosgrove] said. “Hell, It only takes one person. It’s just a goddamn mess to see through all the noise and bluster these days. Everyone is angry. Everyone has an ax to grind. At least in the old days, a nut had to roll a sheet of paper into the typewriter or paste together some jumbled clippings from a magazine. But now all they have to do is use a dummy email account and be done.”

“The perils of sleuthing in the twenty-first century.”

It’s a little hard separating my feelings and thoughts about this book from Atkins’ entire run with this being his last, but I’m going to try.

I don’t think this was his strongest outing—nor was it his weakest—but it was as fun as you could want. Spenser’s wit was on full power, as was his gift for observation. The mid-novel fight scene was pretty good–as were the other action scenes. The campaign staff were believable and interesting—as was CGR (although her boyfriend got on my nerves, I think by design). A lot of that story was predictable, but Atkins told it well enough that you didn’t mind—there are only so many things you can do in a story about bodyguarding someone, after all. There were also plenty of unexpected things along the way, so even if the destination was clear all along, Atkins’s route to it wasn’t.

The only sour note for me was the investigation for Hawk—it felt like Atkins had a good idea at the beginning, and just didn’t have the time to develop it as he should’ve. I do wonder if he was just setting something up for Lupica. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.

Atkins brought out all of the major characters from his run, and many from Parker’s, for one last ride—it was great to see them before the hand-off. Atkins even made one major character move (one might say it was overdue and something that Parker should’ve done).

This would work as a jumping-on point to the series—although I can’t imagine here in book 50 that there’s anyone who hasn’t tried the series but is considering it. But more importantly, it’s one for the fans written by a fellow fan, and that audience should be more than satisfied with it.


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.

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.

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

Classic Spenser: God Save the Child by Robert B. Parker

Classic Spenser

God Save the Child

God Save the Child

by Robert B. Parker
Series: Spenser, #2

Mass Market Paperback, 202 pg.
Dell Publishing Co., 1974

Read: February 25, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

He hunched the chair forward and wrote a check on the edge of my desk with a translucent ballpoint pen. Bartlett Construction was imprinted in the upper left corner of the check—I was going to be a business expense. Deductible. One keg of 8d nails, 500 feet of 2×4 utility grade, one gumshoe, 100 gallons of creosote stain. I took the check without looking at it and slipped it folded into my shirt pocket, casual, like I got them all the time and it was just something to pass along to my broker. Or maybe I’d buy some orchids with it.

A nice bit of description, a bit of wit and a Nero Wolfe reference. Not a bad start.

I’m not certain, but I think this was the first Spenser novel that I purchased, and I’d read a handful before then (my then local library started with book 3). It was a new copy (an extravagance for me then), and justing by the state it’s in, I may have to buy myself a replacement copy after one or two more reads. Actually, it may not survive another whole read (that back cover is holding on by strength of will).

Which is just a long-winded way to say that it’s not like I read this with fresh eyes.

Roger (call him “Rog”) and Marge Bartlett have come to Spenser for help finding their fourteen-year-old son, Kevin, who has seemingly run away from home with the clothes on his back and his pet guinea pig. He’s been gone a week, and the local police haven’t been able to do much. Spenser assures them that unlike the police, the only thing he has to focus on his hunting for Kevin—not breaking up fights, ticketing speeders, arresting drunks, etc.—”Also, maybe I’m smarter than they are.”

During their initial consultation, we see that the couple is also a bit more focused on other things than Kevin. Marge is sure to work in references to her acting and cooking classes, she’s a self-described creative person who has to express it. Rog seems a bit more focused on the bottom line (which he might need to be, since Marge seems to spend money like it’s going out of style). By the end of the book, my impression is that Rog is trying to do the right thing for his family, has some real concern over Kevin, but maybe doesn’t know how to show it. Marge is too self-involved for my taste and doesn’t come across very well (and has some other problems I won’t get into). But when the chips are down, both will selflessly and reflexively react to help their son. Their daughter, Kevin’s younger sister, is practically ignored throughout and I always feel bad for her. We’ll see an echo of this couple (with significant variations) in Promised Land in a couple of months.

The Bartletts live in Smithfield, which a fictionalized version of Lynnfield, MA. There are some pretty good reasons that Parker probably had to change the name in this novel, but as Spenser spends time in almost every novel since in Smithfield, I wonder if he ever regretted it.

Police Chief Trask is this close to being a tough-guy cartoon of a cop. He’s far more concerned with making sure that Spenser knows that he’s running the show than he is in anything Spenser has to say on their initial meeting (and he doesn’t improve much after this). He’s done some checking on Spenser and the two banter a bit about Spenser’s record. Well, Spenser banters and Trask tries to push him around, anyway.

Before Spenser can do too much on his own to find Kevin, a very strange looking ransom note shows up. Which brings the Massachusetts State Police, in the person of Lt. Healy, into things.

Healy I knew of. He was chief investigator for the Essex County DA”s office. There were at least two first-run racketeers I knew who stayed out of Essex County because they didn’t want any truck with him.

Healy said, ‘Didn’t you used to work for the Suffolk County DA once?”

I said, “Yes.”

“Didn’t they fire you for hotdogging?”

“I like to call it inner-directed behavior,” I said.

“I’ll bet you do.” Healy said.

Healy is tough, smart and ethical—and has little respect for Trask. He and Spenser work together pretty well, and Healy will appear or be mentioned in another dozen Spenser novels before making regular appearances in the Jesse Stone books.

From this point, things get strange—the ransom note is just the beginning, and a strange kidnapping will evolve into a murder case, a drugs and prostitution ring, and . . . well, more things. As with The Godwulf Manuscript the climactic fight involves two people who have no business engaging in hand-to-hand combat. Unlike last time, Spenser’s not sidelined for this fight and gets involved as well—it’s one of my favorite fight scenes in the series. Parker shows off his knowledge of and affinity for boxing here. Spenser’s motive for engaging in the fight isn’t necessarily pure, and I kind of like how honest Parker and Spenser both are about that.

As nice as that scene is, that’s not the end of the story—and whatever victory Spenser enjoys, it’s empty. Which is a nod to Spenser’s noir lineage and something that will show up again and again in the series.

While we’re introduced to Spenser in the previous novel, it doesn’t feel quite like a Spenser novel. But God Save the Child does. The same flavor, pacing, and approach to the story that are here are in almost every thing that Parker does with the character from this point forward. The character will evolve from novel to novel, but the series really starts here.

Possibly the biggest reason for that is that it’s in these pages we meet Susan Silverman. She’s the guidance counselor at Smithfield High School and after the Assistant Principal demonstrates that he’s useless for giving Spenser any insight into Kevin, she’s who Spenser turns to. Spenser’s described quite a few women prior to this, but from the first paragraph, Susan’s different.

Susan Silverman wasn’t beautiful. but there was an intangibility about her a physical reality, that made the secretary with the lime-green bosom seem insubstantial. She had should-length black hair and a thin dark Jewish face with prominent cheekbones. Tall, maybe five seven, with black eyes. It was hard to tell her age, but there was a sense about her of intelligent maturity which put her on my side of thirty…When she shook hands with me, I felt something click down the back of my solar plexus.

I said hello without stammering and sat down.

Parker’s not quite as blatant about it as Henry Fielding is about Sophie (for those who’ve been reading my Fridays with the Foundling series), but he’s fairly obvious in the way he portrays Susan in this scene (not to mention the several that follow) that she’s different. Exceptional. She ends up being the love of Spenser’s life and shows up in every book hereafter. But for now, they’re just meeting, but there’s a spark between the two of them and Spenser soon asks her to dinner.

I had just finished washing my hands and face when the doorbell rang. Everything was ready. Ah, Spenser, what a touch. Everything was just right except that I couldn’t seem to find a missing child. Well, nobody’s perfect. I pushed the release button and opened my apartment door. I was wrong. Susan Silverman was perfect.

It took nearly forty years of savior faire to keep from saying “Golly.”…

“Come in,” I said. Very smooth. I didn’t scuff my foot; I didn’t mumble. I stood right up straight when I said it. I don’t think I blushed.

During their date, Susan makes the following observation about Spenser,

So, sticking your nose into things and getting it broken allows you to live life on your own terms, perhaps.

Spenser is impressed with this insight—and it’s a recurring theme for the two of them to talk about for the next few decades—with each other or when Susan tries to explain Spenser to others. The choices he’s made in his life—relational, vocational, lifestyle, what have you—are all about living life on his own terms. There’s a lot to be commended in this approach, and some problems (in two books we meet a more extreme version of someone living this way…but that’s for another day). Another frequent thing that comes up in their conversations appeared for the first time when they met.

“Why do you want to know?” [Susan asks]

“Because it’s there. Because it’s better to know than not to know in my line of work.”

If I had a quarter for every time the two of them said this (sometimes he does the set up), I’d be able to buy my replacement copy of this book.

It’s not just because they say the same things in almost every book (wow, it sounds dull when I put it that way—it’s not, at least not for several years), it’s the effect that Susan has on Spenser that changes the series. It made Spenser stand out from the rest of the genre’s tough guys. I could go on and on about Susan or Susan-and-Spenser, but I’ll hold off on it for now.

As chapter two begins, we’re treated to four long paragraphs (about two pages in my edition) describing the route between Boston and Smithfield, with commentary from Spenser on the scenery, traffic, businesses, etc. that he comes across. This is something that Parker excels at—and doesn’t do nearly often enough (but at least once a book). I’ve never been in that part of the world, I defiantly can’t go to the version of that area that existed in 1974—but I walk away from this description feeling like I know the area.

As far as recurring characters go (other than Healy and Susan), Frank Belson makes a quick appearance, and we meet Henry Cimoli—who runs the Harbor Health Club, Spenser’s gym. Henry’s importance will ebb and flow (as will the frequency of appearances) over the rest of the series, but he’s a constant enough presence that it’s good to meet him for the first time here.

There’s a lot more that could be mined from these pages, but this has gotten too long. I may pick up a strand or two in the future, but we’ll see. God Save the Child seems to be a story about a runaway (or a kidnapping?), but really it’s about a young man struggling to understand his place in the world, parents who aren’t sure how to parent, and a detective starting to change his place in the world. There’s a lot of wit, some good social commentary, some decent detecting, and a great fight scene—all expertly and (seemingly) effortlessly written. That’s a reductionistic way to look at it, but that’s a Spenser novel in a nutshell. I loved revisiting it, and can’t wait to get to the next book.

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.

Page 1 of 4

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén