Category: Mystery/Detective Fiction/Crime Fiction/Thriller Page 59 of 153

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.

The Ninja Daughter by Tori Eldridge: The Norwegian-Chinese Ninja Hero You Never Realized You Needed in Your Life

The Ninja Daughter

The Ninja Daughter

by Tori Eldridge
Series: Lily Wong, #1

Paperback, 300 pg.
Agora Books, 2019

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

What’s The Ninja Daughter About?

Lily Wong’s nickname is Dumpling, and like that food, there’s a lot hidden underneath the surface.

For starters, there’s the fact that she trained extensively in martial arts—more than her parents realized—growing up. Then there’s the fact that she (in her mind, at least) let her sister down the night that her sister was sexually assaulted and murdered. Which fuels the last hidden part of her life—she uses her guilt and need for vengeance to fuel her utilization of those martial arts skills to be a kunoichi—a female ninja—to help women and children who are the victims of abuse while she hunts for her sister’s killer. Her parents only know she does IT work from home.

When the book opens she’s trying to help a Ukrainian immigrant woman and her son get away from her abusive husband (who brags about his criminal connections), but that’s not going too well. To distract her self from the lack of success there, she takes up the cause of a waitress who’d been attacked in her home by a customer. The judge tossed the case based on insufficient evidence following weeks of the waitress being victim shamed through the media (traditional and social).

Lily decides that this waitress needs a big sister to look out for her and appoints herself to fill that role. She does this by doing what she can to keep Mia safe and then to investigate the guy she pressed charges against. This leads her into a murky world of government contracts, real estate, organized crime, and murder.

You Know Who Lily Reminds Me Of?

Part of it’s the city of L.A., part of it’s the female action-hero vibe, the one woman against the world kind of thing. Part of it is ineffable. But I couldn’t help but think of Cas Russell (of Zero Sum Game and Null Set) and Teagan Frost (of The Girl Who Could Move Sh*t with Her Mind) as I read this book.

Sure, Lily’s more grounded than either of them, she has no real powers other than those that are the result of years of training and practice. Theoretically, everything that Lily does in this book Tori Eldridge is (or at least was at one point) capable of doing herself—and a lot of what Cas and Teagan do are purely the stuff of fiction. Still, I’m probably going to lump the three of them together in my mind for some time to come.

The biggest difference between them is that Lily knows just who she is and where she comes from—her family is strong, affectionate (in their way), and supportive. She may have friends to augment that core support, but they’re not everything she has. This makes her a bit more stable and capable of dealing with challenges that come than the others.

(and, yeah, I thought of Lydia Chin and her mother every time Lily and her Ma interacted, but that’s a whole other can of worms).

The Food

There’s food all over this book. Lily’s father owns and runs a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. The woman that runs the shelter she works with cooks amazing sounding soul food. The meals she eats with her family and on her own sound amazing. Spenser and Elvis Cole may know their way around a kitchen, but Lily Wong knows her way around some fantastic restaurants in L.A. She’s so far ahead of the game than Kinsey Milhone’s lousy sandwiches and Hungarian food that it’s hard to believe they’re in the same genre.

Do not read this book if you’re peckish. Keep yourself fed well, or you’re going to be snacking far too much.

Lily’s Heritage

It’s that family makes Lily who she is. In these three hundred pages, we hear more about Lily’s grandparents and parents than I’m used to hearing about a protagonist’s family over several books. Particularly when we’re talking about an action hero.

Eldridge has given Lily the same heritage that she has—a Norwegian father from North Dakota and a Chinese mother. So Eldridge knows the special kind of alchemy that the mixture of the two cultures produces.

The Important Word in the Title

Obviously, it’s Ninja that draws your attention and is the memorable takeaway, but as you can tell, it’s Daughter that colors the whole book. It’s Lily’s interactions with her parents, her application of the way they raised her and still care for her, the way she draws on what they teach and tell her that defines her and proves to be the key to figuring out what’s going on in the book.

So, what did I think about The Ninja Daughter?

If you want to ignore the deeper stuff and enjoy a book about a determined young woman out for vengeance (presumptive and by proxy, as it often is) on the streets of Los Angeles, this book will do the trick.

If you want a rounded, complex, female character trying to figure out how to deal with personal guilt, and trauma while helping out women and children by any means necessary, this book will do the trick, too. The idea that she may be starting to figure out a way past the guilt and move into healing and happiness* makes that all the better.

* Sure, I realize that within the first fifty pages of the sequel, all that can go away. The important thing is that it was there

You could make the case that Philip Marlowe was Chandler’s attempt at telling the story of a knight errant in early-twentieth-century L.A. Lily’s in the same vein—just a little more modern (and, ironically enough, using an older kind of warrior). Eldridge’s L.A. has slightly nicer mean streets, but they’re just as deadly and are in just as much need for a hero. I hope we get to see her at work for quite some time.


4 Stars

20 Books of Summer

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.

Dark Jenny (Audiobook) by Alex Bledsoe, Stefan Rudnicki: Eddie LaCrosse Meets a Legend

Dark Jenny

Dark Jenny

by Alex Bledsoe, Stefan Rudnicki (Narrator)
Series: Eddie LaCrosse, #3

Unabridged Audiobook, 8 hrs., 45 min.
Blackstone Audio, 2012

Read: July 24-28, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What did I say about Dark Jenny the first time I read it?

I have only the vaguest of memory of what actually happened in the first Eddie LaCrosse novel (The Sword-Edged Blonde), and only somewhat better recall about the second (Burn Me Deadly). That’s a reflection on the amount of stuff I’ve read in that time, and is in no way a reflection on Bledsoe. I do have a very clear recollection about what both books told me about Alex Bledsoe’s talent and that I enjoyed them a lot. I’m equally certain that Dark Jenny won’t suffer from that same fading from memory/excuse to reread them. This one is gonna stay with me for a while.

Essentially, this book is a variation of an Arthurian story—ideal king, queen rumored to be less than ideal, noble knight corps with a few rotten apples thrown in, a wizard figure, wicked half-sister, and a whole lotta intrigue—with a few unique twists of Bledsoe’s own thrown in for good measure. Not a sour note to be found here—some notes that were hard to listen to, sure, but…okay, there’s a metaphor that went awry. I was trying to say that yes, there were things that were less pleasant than others—this book goes to some dark, nasty places–but it all worked well.

We get this Arthurian tale via an extended flashback—in the middle of a nasty winter storm, with nothing else to occupy the attention of his neighbors, Eddie receives an interesting package. One so interesting, there has to be a great tale that goes along with it—which he ends up telling to the crowd at his favorite tavern (with only the tiniest of breaks to remind us that this is all in Eddie’s past). By making this all an extended flashback, Bledsoe is able to give us a slightly different version of Eddie—one on the way to being the guy we’ve seen in the last two books. It also gives him the excuse to have a great femme fatale to grab Eddie’s attention without having to write around his lovely lady.

A great, riveting fantasy noir. Can’t wait for the next one already. A decent jumping on point for those new to the series, and a great third installment for those who’ve been around for awhile.

Thoughts this time through

In the nine years or so since I read Dark Jenny I held on to a vague recollection of the plot, I remembered it was a clever twist on an Authurian Legend, and that it knocked me for a loop. But that’s really all I remembered.

So when I started it on my Eddie LaCrosse re-listen, I was excited. And spent a lot of time pretty disappointed. I couldn’t see why it knocked me for a loop.

It was a very clever way to tell an Authurian story while critiquing the Authorian stories. Bledsoe got the best of both worlds there, he got the utopia, the glory, the all the trappings. And he got to show the inherent problems with them, how short lived the utopia was (and if that’s the case, just how “eu” was the topia?)

And it was a fun story about a younger Eddie LaCrosse, sword jockey at large. I wasn’t blown away, but I was having a good time.

And then I got to the part that I must’ve been thinking about when I wrote my original post about it years ago. It’s not long after we learn why the book is called Dark Jenny, if you’re curious. And then I remembered exactly what I felt in 2011 and why the impression lingered even if the details had faded.

What about Dark Jenny as an audiobook?

Once again, Stefan Rudnicki, isn’t who I’d have guessed was a good fit for LaCrosse. But I’d have been wrong, he’s a great voice for this series and I can’t imagine anyone else doing it now. I can’t put my finger on why, but I think this novel works better in print than in audio (which is not a reflection on Rudnicki, it’s something about the story)—but I have no complaints about this as an audiobook.

So, what did I think about Dark Jenny?

I guess I kind of gave it away earlier. At this point in the series, Bledsoe has locked it in. He knows who Eddie is and how to tell his stories. There’s the right mix of fantasy elements (including the Arthurian material) and hard-boiled PI elements; humor and grit; violence and sympathy.

I don’t know if this is that much better than it’s predecessors—but it is somewhat, at least. And it resonates on an emotional level for me far more than they did. I’m completely sold on it.


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.

Pub Day Repost: Going Back by Neil Lancaster: Improvise, Adapt, Overcome. Just another day for Novak.

Going Back

Going Back

by Neil Lancaster
Series: Tom Novak Thriller, #3

eARC, 506 pg.
Burning Chair Publishing, 2020

Read: August 11, 2020

What’s Going Back About?

Over the last couple of books, Tom Novak has received some pretty significant favors from Mike Brogan, his old friend who does some sort of work for American Intelligence (I like how vague his actual role is kept). And now he’s collecting.

There’s an ex-Serbian Special Operations officer who was freed from a prison van by a paramilitary force using some sort of device that seems like a portable EMP. Which is something that everyone (including governments around the world) wants, but no one’s been able to create. There’s a two-fold interest in this—1. can that portable device actually do what they think? and 2. There seems to be something major underway from this officer, probably using the EMP-like device. Which is not good for anyone.

Brogan’s team is pretty sure they know who’s bringing the tech-savvy to the team. Stefan Cerović left the country about the same time as Novak—but he ended up in the States. He was recently fired from a prominent tech company for failing a drug test and resurfaced in Belgrade. Cerović appeared to be relying on one particular black-market arms dealer, who’d recently been arrested. The job is for Novak to present himself as a new supplier as a way in. His ability with the language and similar background to Cerović is seen as a way for him to connect.

Mike will be around as backup, and of course, Pet will be around, too, doing all the typical technical wizardry.* Pet’s one of those characters that changes every scene she’s in—and makes Novak a more likable character when she’s around. I forget how much I like her until she shows up.

* Minor spoiler: Pet makes a costly mistake. I was so happy to see this. So often tech wizards like her are depicted as nigh infallible. But she makes a bad judgment call and she and Tom pay for it, keeping her human—a fantastically talented human, sure—but human.

As things are wont to do, after some initial success (Cerović’s a lot more interested in drugs than initially thought, which opens up so many doors for Novak), Brogan’s nifty plan goes off the rails—but not in a way you’d expect. Novak and Pet have to rely on Novak’s Marine slogan, and improvise and adapt so they have a shot at overcoming their opponents.

Serbia, huh?

I keep wondering how much mileage Lancaster’s going to be able to get out of Novak’s heritage and assume at some point we’re going to get a novel where it’s not so central. But until then, I’ll continue to be interested in seeing how Lancaster can adapt it.

This time out, putting him in his old homeland allows (forces?) him to confront and better understand his history (both recent and decades-old). Lancaster is able to get a two-for-the-price-of-one return here, not only is it the perfect setting for this kind of story, but we get a little character development.

One Gripe…

No self-respecting Texan is going to describe himself as from the “Deep South.” Sorry. Yes, it’s a minor issue, but it took me out of the moment. And for a book/series that reeks of authenticity, it’s a conspicuous blunder.

I did read an eARC which I know are still subject to change. Hopefully, that’s one of those edits that’s addressed before publication date.

So, what did I think about Going Back?

The first two books in this series had a pretty clear line of demarcation between the “undercover police officer” part and the “action hero” part of the book, and it worked pretty well. In Going Back, however, Novak slides back and forth between the two pretty easily (although the there is a clear shift in emphasis). I liked that a whole lot and hope Lancaster can do more of that in the future.

Throughout the whole book it felt to me like Lancaster had taken everything that worked best in Going Dark and Going Rogue, combining them while leaving off everything that didn’t work as well. Giving us the best in the series, a confident and well-paced thrill ride that will please fans and probably pick up a few for the series. You don’t have to have read the previous three to enjoy this one, the backstory isn’t that important to it. This is a fun way to spend a couple of hours and I recommend it to you.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from the author in exchange for this post and my honest opinion—thanks for this.


4 Stars

The Library Murders by M.R. Mackenzie: An Unlikely Duo on the Hunt for a Killer @LifeBookish

The Library Murders

The Library Murders

by M.R. Mackenzie

Kindle Edition, 335 pg.
Mad House, 220

Read: August 18-19, 2020

What’s The Library Murders About?

The book opens with a pleasant first chapter, almost enough to make you forget something horrible is promised by the title. I stress the almost because it reminds you something’s coming. You could easily take that first chapter and put it into a General Fiction/Women’s Commercial Fiction kind of thing.

And then the title happens. As murders go, they’re pretty shocking, particularly when you put they happen in a small library.

Alyssa, fifteen minutes into her first shift when they occur, is one of two survivors. And while she survived, she definitely didn’t come through unscathed. Neither did Davy, the outgoing man who had been trying to make her feel comfortable on her first day. While their recovery is never the focus of the the novel, it’s present throughout, and I think the impact of their trauma is depicted realistically and sensitively.

Davy, from Day 1, thinks that the police aren’t looking in the right direction for the culprit. Alyssa has no such concern—honestly, she does all she can to not think about, or care about, the investigation, or its result. But after some goading from Davy, she agrees to help him a little while he looks into things.

It’s not long before she begins to share his doubts, and soon she’s pursuing things on her own. There are plenty of twists and turns along the way, and the dangerous situation they survived is just the beginning.

I was surprised at how little time we ended up spending with the detectives on the case, because early on it seems like they were going to be a real focus for the narrative. They do get some good moments, but they are mostly off-screen. On the one hand, the book didn’t need them—it was compelling enough as is. But after the introduction we’re given to them, I’d have welcomed a little more time with them throughout, getting their perspective on the investigation.

Poor Canada?

(that works best if you sing it to the opening of the Canadian Anthem)

Poor Alyssa…time after time after time she’s called an American. She’s from a small town in Saskatchewan—and many of the people who make references to her being from the States are aware of that. But that doesn’t stop them—and it, understandably, starts to get to her. It’s a great running gag with a good pay off in a book that needs the occasional light touch to relieve the tension.

What One Thing was the Biggest Surprise of the Novel?

Don’t worry, I’m not going to give any plot spoilers. Give me a little credit. But the thing that came absolutely out of nowhere—and from a completely unexpected source—was a lengthy tribute to Library workers and the value of their service. It was unexpected, sincere, and heartfelt. I can just imagine if I worked in a library and came across this passage that I’d have an extra spring in my step the next time that I went to work.

So, what did I think about The Library Murders?

I was riveted. I found myself invested almost from page one into what happened to Alyssa, Davy and the lead detective—not just as it regards the Library Murders, but beyond that.

Mackenzie keeps things well-paced and times the reveals along the way deftly.

I was thoroughly satisfied with this and definitely recommend The Library Murders as a compelling way to spend a few hours.


3 Stars

My thanks to Overview Media for the invitation to participate in this tour and the materials (including a copy of the novel) they provided.

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: The Library Murders by M.R. Mackenzie

Today I’m pleased to welcome the Book Tour for the riveting The Library Murders by MR. Mackenzie. Following this spotlight post, I’ll be giving my take on the novel here in a bit. But let’s start by learning a little about this here book, okay?


Book Details:

Book Title: The Library Murders by M.R. Mackenzie
Release date: August 14, 2020
Format: Ebook/Paperback
Publisher: Mad House
Length: 335 Pages

Book Blurb:

Alyssa Clark is about to find out that reading really can be murder.

She thought her new job in Thornhill Library would be safe and uneventful. Boring, even. But on her first day at work, a masked gunman storms into the building and blows away every member of staff on duty. Alyssa barely escapes with her life.

The police are satisfied they’ve got their man, but Davy, Alyssa’s colleague and the only other survivor of the massacre, is convinced the real killer is still at large. Alyssa – trying to move on with her life while dealing with traumatic flashbacks and the unwanted advances of an obsessive ex – is skeptical. However, when she stumbles across damning evidence of a cover-up, she agrees to join forces with Davy to help track down the real culprit.

But in her pursuit of the truth, will she find the closure she desperately craves… or provoke the wrath of a killer with unfinished business on his mind?

If you like twists, turns and compelling, conflicted characters, you’ll love this gripping new mystery from the McIlvanney Prize-nominated author of In the Silence.

 

Praise for M.R. Mackenzie:

‘Writes with precision and passion’ – Caro Ramsay

‘Brings a fresh new voice to the field of Tartan Noir’ – James Oswald

‘Up there with the best contemporary authors working today’ – David B. Lyons

‘Splendidly written stuff’ – Crime Time

My thanks to Overview Media for the invitation to participate in this tour and the materials (including a copy of the novel) they provided.

The Revelators by Ace Atkins: It’s All Been Leading to This

The Revelators

The Revelators

by Ace Atkins
Series: Quinn Colson, #10

Hardcover, 386 pg.
G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 2020

Read: August 4-10, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

“Place kinda looks like when you came home ten years back?”

“Nope,” Quinn said, placing the small bottle back in the glove box. “It’s a lot worse.”

What’s The Revelators About?

How is it already book ten?

The Revelators starts with Boom Kimbrough trying to keep his friend alive. Quinn Colson has been responding to a call about a domestic dispute and had been ambushed by The Watchmen—the far-right vigilante militia beating him and then someone shooting him. When a book starts off with your series’ protagonist clinging to life, you know it’s going to be a grim time and it is.

A year passes and Quinn’s rehab has gone pretty well. The governor has appointed someone to fill in as Sherriff, and that man is everything that Quinn isn’t, he make’s Quinn’s crooked uncle look like a fine lawman. He’s not entirely physically ready, but he can’t wait anymore—Quinn’s got to step up and do his job before it’s too late and criminal elements have completely taken over. Quinn, Boom, Lillie Virgil, and the Jon Holliday (plus who knows how many undercover agents he has—he won’t tell anyone) prepare for a significant move that’ll put most, if not all, of the major elements in prison.

Meanwhile, the new Sherriff and ICE raid a local chicken processing plant (to the surprise of almost everyone in the county), arresting everyone, not allowing anyone to provide their immigration papers (of those who have them), merely sending them off somewhere to await deportation. Lillie and her church have their hands full with the children left behind by this move. If anything, this action galvanizes Quinn to step up his work.

Fannie Hathcock is making moves of her own, securing her position not only in Tibbehah County but the entire state (and beyond). And…well, I don’t have the space to keep going. There are so many moving pieces in this book I’m not even going to attempt to summarize.

There’s at least an allusion to the previous books, and many characters/crimes/events from them directly impact what happens here. The Revelators is the culmination of ten novels’ worth of events and nothing’s going to be the same after it. It’s clear from the get-go that Atkins has something major in mind and the atmosphere of the whole book reflects that. At various points in the novel, I have notes like “please don’t do anything to X and Y.” And at times it feels like this could be the series finale, and I spent a little time wondering how there’ll be any way for it to continue.*

* I’ve heard/read enough interviews of Atkins at this point to know he’s not keeping the next novel a secret, so I don’t feel bad about saying that.

Is this Fiction?

From the ICE raid on a chicken processing plant—and the way that parents are kept from their children afterward, to the police corruption and abuse of power, to the militant (and well-armed) right-wing group pushing their way around, and a few other spoilery actions—these “ripped from the headlines” storylines made me wonder time and time again how little fictionalization/sensationalism Atkins was pouring int this. I’m so relieved that it is fiction but at far too many points, it doesn’t feel all that fictional and you get a little sick wondering just how much of this could really be happening in Mississippi (or your own state).

Lights in the Darkness

In the middle of all this corruption, crime, inhumanity, and impending doom, there are moments of hope, joy, and family. Quinn’s nephew, Jason, falls for a girl (who falls right back). Quinn and Maggie are expecting. Maggie’s son Brandon grows closer to his new family—there’s one very sweet scene between Brandon and Quinn. Caddy seems to have found another chance at love.

And an old foe realizes how far down the wrong road they’ve gone and seeks to make it up to Quinn. I had to read a couple of scenes twice to make sure I understood what was going on.

Not only does that kind of thing keep Quinn and his allies going—it’s a reason to keep fighting, even if things are worse in the ten years since he came home. But, it also makes it easier to read. If it was all crime, corruption, racism, impending doom, and the rest, sure, it’d be worth reading, but these brief reminders that even Tibbehah County isn’t as bad as it could possibly be make it so much easier to keep reading.

So, what did I think about The Revelators?

“Johnny Stagg, J. K. Vardaman, the Watchman—all of them come from the same place,” Quinn said. “Me and you been fighting them over since we came home.”

“Been here long before me and you were born,” Boom said. “And they gonna be around long after we die.”

“That’s a hard take,” Quinn said.

“Do I lie?”

That is a hard—and honest—take. But what Quinn leaves unspoken is that it really doesn’t matter how long this kind have been around, people like he and Boom have been around resisting, fighting back the darkness, and trying to make it easier for light to shine. That’s why readers have kept coming back to this series for ten years. And they’ll keep coming back as long as that fight’s being waged.

Atkins has outdone himself this time—there are so many moving parts, so many interweaving plotlines, so much that he has to reveal slowly (or not let us see) so that he can let it all loose at the right time.

While reading it, I kept muttering about how good it all was, how fantastically Atkins was pulling off this very ambitious novel—and he made it look easy while keeping the reader white-knuckling the cover.

Book 11 in this series is going to look pretty different than the ten that came before, but it’ll be Quinn facing off with the same type of people—and as long as we get books of this caliber (or near it), that’ll be more than good enough.


5 Stars

20 Books of Summer2020 Library Love Challenge

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Going Back by Neil Lancaster: Improvise, Adapt, Overcome. Just another day for Novak.

Going Back

Going Back

by Neil Lancaster
Series: Tom Novak Thriller, #3

eARC, 506 pg.
Burning Chair Publishing, 2020

Read: August 11, 2020

What’s Going Back About?

Over the last couple of books, Tom Novak has received some pretty significant favors from Mike Brogan, his old friend who does some sort of work for American Intelligence (I like how vague his actual role is kept). And now he’s collecting.

There’s an ex-Serbian Special Operations officer who was freed from a prison van by a paramilitary force using some sort of device that seems like a portable EMP. Which is something that everyone (including governments around the world) wants, but no one’s been able to create. There’s a two-fold interest in this—1. can that portable device actually do what they think? and 2. There seems to be something major underway from this officer, probably using the EMP-like device. Which is not good for anyone.

Brogan’s team is pretty sure they know who’s bringing the tech-savvy to the team. Stefan Cerović left the country about the same time as Novak—but he ended up in the States. He was recently fired from a prominent tech company for failing a drug test and resurfaced in Belgrade. Cerović appeared to be relying on one particular black-market arms dealer, who’d recently been arrested. The job is for Novak to present himself as a new supplier as a way in. His ability with the language and similar background to Cerović is seen as a way for him to connect.

Mike will be around as backup, and of course, Pet will be around, too, doing all the typical technical wizardry.* Pet’s one of those characters that changes every scene she’s in—and makes Novak a more likable character when she’s around. I forget how much I like her until she shows up.

* Minor spoiler: Pet makes a costly mistake. I was so happy to see this. So often tech wizards like her are depicted as nigh infallible. But she makes a bad judgment call and she and Tom pay for it, keeping her human—a fantastically talented human, sure—but human.

As things are wont to do, after some initial success (Cerović’s a lot more interested in drugs than initially thought, which opens up so many doors for Novak), Brogan’s nifty plan goes off the rails—but not in a way you’d expect. Novak and Pet have to rely on Novak’s Marine slogan, and improvise and adapt so they have a shot at overcoming their opponents.

Serbia, huh?

I keep wondering how much mileage Lancaster’s going to be able to get out of Novak’s heritage and assume at some point we’re going to get a novel where it’s not so central. But until then, I’ll continue to be interested in seeing how Lancaster can adapt it.

This time out, putting him in his old homeland allows (forces?) him to confront and better understand his history (both recent and decades-old). Lancaster is able to get a two-for-the-price-of-one return here, not only is it the perfect setting for this kind of story, but we get a little character development.

One Gripe…

No self-respecting Texan is going to describe himself as from the “Deep South.” Sorry. Yes, it’s a minor issue, but it took me out of the moment. And for a book/series that reeks of authenticity, it’s a conspicuous blunder.

I did read an eARC which I know are still subject to change. Hopefully, that’s one of those edits that’s addressed before publication date.

So, what did I think about Going Back?

The first two books in this series had a pretty clear line of demarcation between the “undercover police officer” part and the “action hero” part of the book, and it worked pretty well. In Going Back, however, Novak slides back and forth between the two pretty easily (although the there is a clear shift in emphasis). I liked that a whole lot and hope Lancaster can do more of that in the future.

Throughout the whole book it felt to me like Lancaster had taken everything that worked best in Going Dark and Going Rogue, combining them while leaving off everything that didn’t work as well. Giving us the best in the series, a confident and well-paced thrill ride that will please fans and probably pick up a few for the series. You don’t have to have read the previous three to enjoy this one, the backstory isn’t that important to it. This is a fun way to spend a couple of hours and I recommend it to you.

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from the author in exchange for this post and my honest opinion—thanks for this.


4 Stars

The Blues Don’t Care by Paul D. Marks: Jazz, Murder, and Rampant Phone Book Vandalism

Earlier, I posted an excerpt from this book (which you should read if you haven’t yet), now here’s what I thought about the book.


The Blues Don’t Care

The Blues Don’t Care

by Paul D. Marks
Series: Bobby Saxon, #1

Kindle Edition, 376 pg.
Down & Out Books, 2020

Read: July 30-31, 2019
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s The Blues Don’t Care About?

Bobby Sexton is a young Los Angeleno, of military age (who is not serving but wants to) during the height of World War II. His greatest desire in life is to be a piano player—he can’t get on with a serious band (mostly due to age, it seems—but there’s something else, too). So he starts spending time in black jazz clubs and finally works out the nerve to try to get in with the Booker ‘Boom-Boom’ Taylor Orchestra. He’s given a shot, and during his first gig, a white man is murdered. One of the other band members is arrested for the murder, but Booker (and Bobby) are sure he’s only arrested because he’s a convenient black man.

So, Booker makes Bobby a deal—use his whiteness in a way that no one else in the band can—find the killer. Or, at least, find a way to get James out of jail. Drawing on knowledge of detecting gained solely out of films, Bobby gives it a shot.

He catches a break by striking up the beginning of a friendship with a Deputy assigned to the case (who is not all that sure that James is guilty, but isn’t free to find an alternate suspect). Given the hints from that deputy, Bobby plunges in and soon finds himself lost in a maze of smuggling, big business, refugees, intelligence about the Concentration Camps, Nazis, and more. Bobby quickly learns (and relearns and relearns) that real life and real detective work isn’t like it looks in the movies, still he seems to have some talent for detecting (or is he just too stubborn to realize he doesn’t?).

A Couple of Thoughts about the Setting

It occurs to me, that every book I’ve read that takes place in World War II (and doesn’t involve the armed forces) takes place in or around New York City (or wherever the Pevensie children go). Seeing Los Angeles at this time was a nice change. I’d never really thought about what it was like during this time in L.A.—or anywhere that wasn’t where my grandparents lived or NYC.

For a book that’s largely about tolerance and acceptance of others, the era-appropriate racial and ethnic slurs fly pretty freely in this book. I can see a lot of people being made uncomfortable by it, being offended, or objecting to it. Not me, it’s how people talked—the slurs directed toward the African Americans Bobby plays with or spends time around did feel ugly, and those who used them weren’t depicted favorably. But the epithets for Axis powers (or their citizens) were casually used by just about every character. It didn’t strike me as hateful, just as slang. Maybe it says something about me (or maybe I read too many books written in the 1940s and 50s) that I didn’t care about it, it just seemed like context-appropriate dialogue. But I do know that not all readers will appreciate that aspect.

A Note about the Framing Device

There’s a framing device used here to introduce us to Bobby, Booker, Bobby’s music, and to give us a glance at their future. I’m not sure it was needed, I don’t know what it added—but I didn’t mind it. But as I thought about the book, I wondered, “why?” I just didn’t see the value.

I can see where in any sequels it could come back, and maybe turn into something I don’t wonder about, but I’m not convinced we need that device.

I’m not saying it was bad…just extraneous.

Has Bobby Never Heard of a Notepad?

Sure, I get it. There were shortages of everything, rations were the name of the game, but Bobby couldn’t have used a notepad, scratch paper, the back of sheet music, anything? Every time he looks something up, like an address in a phone book*, he rips out the page that has the information to take it with him.

* Kids and younger adults should ask your parents.

I remember reading other, older, PI novels where this happens some—and even some TV shows/movies. But Bobby’s a serial vandal—I lost count of who many phone books he ruined. Please, please, Mr. Marks, get the guy a pencil and a notepad for the sequel.

So, what did I think about The Blues Don’t Care?

First of all, I would’ve liked more about the jazz/band. Bobby playing, thinking about, or listening to music was the best part of the book. Yeah, I know, it’s a murder mystery, not a band novel, so the focus needs to be on the murder and hunt for the murderer. But, I tell you what, we could’ve used a lot more of the music scene for flavor, for grounding the story—and just for fun.

There are aspects of the novel, particularly about Bobby, that I don’t feel comfortable talking about at this point—I can’t do it without ruining some reveals. But I do appreciate the way that Marks deals with the characters and their circumstances. That’s really all I can say.

I see that this is listed as the first of a series, and I’m not sure how long you can use the “fish out of water” musician-turned-detective idea before it stops working, but I’m interested in seeing how Marks tries to do it. I’ll be back for at least the first sequel.

On the whole, though, I enjoyed this book. I enjoyed the amateur (very) detective stumbling his way through the L.A. underworld, through the racial divide, and through his first case—and through a degree of maturation and self-acceptance. It’s got the heart of a hard-boiled mystery, but isn’t as grim or violent as you’d expect (not that it’s a cozy by any means). Marks hits the right notes* with his prose and characters, creating a mystery that appeals on many levels. I recommend this for mystery readers looking for the kind of thing they haven’t read before.

* You know I had to.

Disclaimer: I received this book from the author via Saichek Publicity in exchange for this post and my honest opinion—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.

EXCERPT from The Blues Don’t Care by Paul D. Marks

I was pretty excited when I got the email for this excerpt, it was precisely what I’d hoped Marks would give me (and a little more, but that’s just frosting on the cake). This is a great sample of the book.


From author Paul D. Marks: Bobby Saxon’s on a mission. He wants to play piano for the Booker ‘Boom-Boom’ Taylor Orchestra (big band), the house band at the famous Club Alabam on Central Avenue in the heart of Los Angeles during World War II. But there’s a problem: he’s young and he’s white. So if he gets the gig he’d be the only white player in the otherwise all-black band. That’s not the only thing standing in his way. In order to get the gig he must first solve a murder that one of the band members has been accused of. And if that’s still not enough there’s another big thing standing in his way…

This excerpt begins the morning after the murder of Hans Dietrich aboard the gambling ship Apollo offshore from Los Angeles. Bobby had just played his first gig with the Booker ‘Boom Boom’ Taylor Orchestra on the ship and the band’s sax player James Christmas has been arrested for Dietrich’s murder. Booker shows up at Bobby’s apartment and asks Bobby to try to clear James of the murder. He figures since Bobby is white he can go places and ask questions that Booker can’t. And he makes Bobby an offer he can’t refuse…a permanent place in the band if he agrees to help.

from Chapter Four of The Blues Don’t Care by Paul D. Marks (available from Down & Out Books)

Bobby’s head swirled with thoughts of James and the dead guy, Dietrich. Had James done it? Bobby didn’t know him very well but James seemed like a hot head. The way he overreacted to everything and seemed angry all the time, Bobby wouldn’t put it past him, especially since the dead German had made comments about colored people.

His wristwatch read five to twelve, almost the witching hour, but not very late by musicians’ standards, when he pulled up in front of his apartment in his 1935 Oldsmobile Six convertible. Several years old, it had been in an accident, so Bobby got it cheap. It was still one snazzy car and he loved the running boards, rag top, rumble seat, and magenta color. Not the original color, but a hot jazz color if ever there was.

Bobby grabbed his stuff, didn’t bother locking the car, headed up the walk. His building was like a thousand others in Hollywood, a million in L.A. White stucco and Spanish style, but it had seen better days. He opened the wood-and-glass-paneled front door, walked down the carpeted but threadbare hall to his tiny apartment in the back. He’d thought about going to a Gene Autry Western at the all-night theater to unwind, decided against it. A smoke and his couch would help him unwind just fine.

He threw off his hat and coat, yanked off his tie and shoes, and flopped on the sofa. It was too much trouble pulling down the Murphy bed. He pulled out the ever-present pack of Viceroys, lit up, drew hard, turned on the radio—war news, what else? It was as good as anything to drift off to sleep to.

Intense morning sun streamed through the venetian blinds, casting long shadows, while dust mites jitterbugged on the light. Bobby, asleep in his clothes on the couch, turned. A loud knock on the front door seeped into his semi-consciousness. Who the hell was it, the cops?

He got up, adjusted his shirt carefully, making sure everything was in place. He ran his hand over his chin and cheek, then headed to the door, saw Booker through the peephole. Booker was in the same suit he’d worn last night; looked like he’d slept in it.

“Booker,” he said, opening the door.

Booker stumbled in. “You got any coffee?”

“Sure.” Bobby walked to the kitchen on the far side of the room, followed by Booker. He started the percolator while Booker made himself comfortable at the banquette. “How ’bout some breakfast?”

“I didn’t sleep at all, Bobby. You?”

“Nothing keeps me from sleeping.”

“You’re lucky.”

“In some ways.” Bobby thought this was a slip, but Booker didn’t pick up on it. Bobby started frying up some eggs and bacon. Making toast. They would use up most of his rations for the week, but Booker was a guest.

“I got a funny look from one-a your neighbors coming here.”

“Probably Mrs. Hazelton, the landlady.”

“I don’t think she likes colored folk in her neighborhood.”

“She looks at everyone like that. I’ve been living here a year and she still looks at me funny.”

“I don’t know if you’re telling me the truth or not, but it makes me feel better anyways. Bobby, this is a nice place.”

“This dump? It’s all right, but I’m aiming to move to better digs.”

“You ain’t no rich white boy just slumming, playin’ on Central Avenue with the darkies to stick it to your folks?”

“Nope.”

“You go to school?”

“I graduated high school. I like to read. But I’ve never been to college.”

“That’s good. I don’t want no eggheads in my band. They tend to intellectualize everything.” Booker sipped the coffee Bobby gave him. He looked the room over. “So, where’s your piano?”

“If there was a piano in here there’d be no room for me. I go to my old piano teacher’s house in Edendale to practice.”

“Edendale? The land of kooks and crazies.”

“Maybe that’s why I fit in.” Booker laughed. “So who do you like? Musically.”

“Benny Goodman. Dorsey. Ellington. Armstrong.” “All the usual suspects.” Booker threw a hard glance at Bobby. “So whatd’d ya think about them hauling James off?”

Booker’s abrupt change of subject threw Bobby for a moment as he put out the plates of food and topped off Booker’s coffee. He set a bottle of ketchup on the table. Both of them dug in. Anyone looking at this scene from outside would have seen two pals chowing down.

“Do you think he did it?”

“I don’t know, man,” Booker said. “What I do know is that the cops don’t care. They got a suspect. A colored suspect. They’re happy. I know you and James aren’t exactly tight, but maybe you can do some checking around.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, ask some questions. See what you can find out.”

“Criminy, Booker, I’m no detective.”

“I know that. But you got something I don’t, something no one else in the band has.”

“What’s that?”

“A passport.”

“Passport?” Booker pinched Bobby’s pink cheek. “White skin. You can go places we can’t. Ask questions we can’t and get away with it. Maybe even get some answers.”

“You want me to play Sam Spade? Like in that movie The Maltese Falcon?”

“Sure, why not? But you ain’t no ‘spade’ far as I can see.” Booker looked Bobby up and down, grinned.

“I’m no Humphrey Bogart either.”

“Hell no, you’re ten times better looking.”

“I’m not sure how much that says about me,” Bobby said. “But I do have a fedora. What else is there?”

“A gun.”

“Well, that I don’t have.”

“And hopefully you won’t need one.”

Bobby hoped not. He had never fired a gun, though he’d seen Gene Autry and Roy Rogers and Bogart all do it in the movies a million times. What was he getting himself into?

“What about the gig, I’ll have to be there every night to play.”

“There is no gig. The Apollo’s shut down, at least temporarily. And you’re on probation with the band. You solve this, you got the gig.”

“I thought I’d get the gig ’cause I can play.”

“That too. ’Sides, what else you got to do now that we’re on hiatus since they shut the Apollo down?” Booker shrugged. “If you get James off, I’ll give you a permanent spot with the band.”

“What if he’s guilty?”

“If he is, if you prove him innocent or guilty without a doubt either way, you got the gig.”

“So where do I start?”

“You seemed to be talking to that plainclothes deputy a long time. Maybe start with him. See what they have on James. I’m gonna try and get him a lawyer. White lawyer. Jewish lawyer.” Booker took a drag on his cig.

“I want a spot, but I want it ’cause I’m a good musician.” “You are a good musician. Now go and be a good detective.” Bobby had no idea where to begin, but something inside him liked the idea of playing detective, at least for a little while, even if he wouldn’t admit it to Booker. It might make him more of a man.

 

Bobby parked across the street from the Los Angeles County Hall of Justice, an imposing building and right now it was imposing itself on Bobby. The top five floors of the 1926 beaux arts structure housed the main jail for the county and that’s where Bobby was headed. He stood in its shadow, trying without success to light a cigarette in the wind. He stopped, looked at the columns of highly polished gray granite, tossed his match. Headed inside.

Ionic columns, marble walls, a gilded ceiling, and a vaulted foyer, looking like a Grecian palace and running the length of the building, belied the jail that lay on the top floors. All that majesty changed when Bobby got off the elevator on the fifth floor. The unwelcoming yellowed linoleum and hard-tiled walls made Bobby’s footsteps carom off the ceiling. The visitor’s area, with its filtered yellow light and stained dull green walls, didn’t improve his mood. And if this is what the county presented to the public, he couldn’t imagine what the jail’s cells were like. He longed for a drag on a cigarette.

A uniformed deputy sat him at a long wooden table. The scarred surface bore the marks of almost every prisoner who’d sat there. A large, pissed-off-looking man shuffled in, accompanied by a larger, more pissed-off deputy.

“Yer the last person I expected to see here,” James said, looking even angrier upon seeing Bobby.

“Booker asked me to come.”

“’Course you wouldn’t come on your own.”

Why the hell would I the way you went after me?  “Do you hate everyone or just whites?”

“Mostly whites. But I pretty much hate everyone equally.”

“I think you hate yourself more than anyone else.”

Instead of shutting James up, he came back with, “Don’t go being no Freud on me. Why don’t you go home to your silver spoon and perfect family?”

Bobby stifled a laugh. “Booker asked me to help you.”

“An’ what can you do for me, white boy? You who’s wet behind the ears and don’t even look like you started shaving yet.”

“I see that you don’t need my help. Enjoy the food, I hear it’s yummy in here.” Bobby got up to leave, turned his back on James.

“Bobby?” James stood. The deputy shoved him down on the chair—hard. “Wait.”

 

They stared at each other across the table. The deputy stood rock solid behind James. The look in his eyes said he hoped the big man would make a move. James disappointed him. In a very small voice that admitted defeat, he said, “Got a smoke?”

Was that James’ way of asking Bobby to stay, maybe even to help? Bobby shook out a Viceroy, started to pass it across the table. The deputy took it, rolled it around in his fingers, probably to make sure a Bowie knife wasn’t hidden inside, and handed what was left of the crumpled cigarette to James. He put it in his mouth and Bobby lit it for him.

“Maybe I do have a small chip on my shoulder.”

Bobby sat down again. “I’ll say. Only about as small as the Rock of Gibraltar.”

“Well, could be bigger. Could be as big as Everest.” James cracked the slightest smile, held up his arm. A long, angry slash. Fresh. He pulled up his shirt. More bruises. The deputy slapped his billy club on James’ shoulder. The shirt went down.

“What happened?”

James leaned in, talked softly, “They beat me. Of course, they kept away from my face. But they had a hell of a good time doin’ it. And my chip keeps growing. So what’d Booker send you here for? Got a hack saw up your sleeve?”

“He thought I might be able to help.”

“You got friends or maybe your daddy’s on the po-lice force?”

“No. But why don’t you tell me where you were when Dietrich was killed.”

“That his name? No one ever told me.” He sighed. “’Course no one knows exactly when he was killed. But they had to have enough time to haul the body up to the rafters. I think I was probably back in the lifeboat, smoking reefer. Wasn’t feeling too good that night. Seasick, you know. And mad as hell after my confrontation with this Dietrich.”

“Uh,” Bobby didn’t know how to proceed. He was no private eye. “Was anyone with you?”

“I know I’m just a lowly spade, but I don’t have to have someone holding my hand every minute.” “I’m trying to help. It would be good if we had someone to alibi you.” Bobby was getting into the rhythm of being a detective.

“Got no alibis. All I got is my sax and I don’t even have that here.”

“And we miss it in the band.” Bobby stared beyond James, at the grimy walls. “James, did you do it?”

“Hell no!”

Bobby figured people in jail lied. He didn’t know if James was lying or not. But for now he’d take him at his word. “I’ll do what I can.”

He pulled out his pack of Viceroys, tossed it on the table. The deputy grabbed it. Stuck his fingers inside, pulled two cigs, tossed them to James. Stuck the pack in his pocket.

Out on the street in front of the jail, Bobby sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, opened a new pack of smokes. Lit up and took one long drag. He looked across the road to the rundown Bijou Theatre, playing a re-release of The Maltese Falcon. Bobby darted across the street. Short of a correspondence course on private detecting, he figured this would be about as much of a class in the subject as he could hope for.

Bobby emerged from the theater a couple hours later to a dark Los Angeles, lit by streetlamps haloing in the low-hanging fog that had rolled in.  He got in the Olds, cut over to Beverly Boulevard, drove west. I should be playing music, not hunting for a killer. I didn’t take a correspondence course in Detecting 101. Criminy, I’m even more of a fish out of water than Booker knows. 

Where the hell do I go now? I guess it would help to know who the, uh, dead guy is, was. I have to look at this logically, Bobby thought on the drive home. The answer’s probably right in front of my face. 

He flopped on his sofa, listening to Artie Shaw’s sweet clarinet on the radio in between war news. Bobby flipped through the pages of his high school yearbook. He had tried calling Deputy Nicolai. He had gone home for the day. The desk sergeant wanted to take a message. Bobby didn’t leave one.

The Andrews Sisters’ “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” followed Shaw. Bobby’s eyes grew moist. All those boys overseas. The service flags in almost every window, gold star flags in too many of them. Sometimes he wished he could join the boys in Europe or the Pacific. He didn’t want to think about that now. He wanted to look at the pictures in the yearbook. Johnny Larkman, senior class president. Very handsome. Is that why he was prez? Jane Feldman, most likely to succeed. What else could she be with her glasses and librarian hair? David Chambers. Handsome, smart. The reason Bobby had pulled out the dusty old yearbook in the first place. David in drama club with Bobby. They had appeared in Cyrano de Bergerac together. In the lead roles. Georgiana Greene, voted prettiest and homecoming queen. Bobby had had a major crush on her. Who didn’t? Mary Cooper. Bobby’d sent her a love note in fifth grade and gotten in trouble for it. Mary never said another word to him. They all went through school together, elementary, junior high, high school. And now they were all out on their own, facing their demons. Facing the world. He kept turning pages and reliving memories. Band. Drama club. Lunches in the quad.

It was fun seeing David Chambers the other night, even if Bobby had been too shy to go up to him. He must be doing pretty good to have money to spend on the Apollo.

 

Bobby fell asleep on the sofa again.

The Malibu sheriff’s outpost, or station, wasn’t much to look at. At least parking was easy. Bobby got out of the Olds Six, inhaled fresh ocean air. Walked inside. After some palavering with the desk sergeant he was allowed back to the detective room. It looked a lot like detective rooms in the movies did. A bunch of wood desks with blotters, file cabinets, and telephones. Men in shirt sleeves and shoulder holsters, some with fedoras on their heads, some with their hats on their desks or hanging from a rack.

Bobby and Sergeant Nicolai sat at a desk in the corner, by the water cooler. Bobby explained he’d come to find out what he could about the Dietrich case.

“Why’re you so interested?”

“James is a member of the band. I’m a member of the band.”

“Doesn’t sound right. Gotta be something more.”

“We have no gig. The Apollo is shut down. We need to hold the band together,” Bobby vamped.

“With a murderer?”

“What if he isn’t?” Nicolai thought a moment. “I’d like to help you but I can’t divulge information on an ongoing investigation.”

“Is it ongoing, Sergeant? And that sounds like a very nice, very formal ‘don’t bother me, kid.’ ”

“I don’t buy your spiel. That boy a friend of yours?”

“I’d hardly say that. But he is a bandmate and we need our first sax.”

“So why doesn’t your leader, Mr. Booker Boom-Boom, come down here himself?”

Bobby’s eyes wandered the room. Nicolai followed. He knew the answer.

“All right, I know why he doesn’t come down. Still—”

“Can’t you give me something?”

“His name’s Hans. Hans Dietrich. I believe he worked in the import-export field. That’s all I know.”

Bobby looked down, then up and straight into Nicolai’s eyes. “I got that much from the papers.”

“You’re a persistent little cuss, aren’t you?” “I got Booker to give me a spot in the band.” “And now you think I’ll just give you information in an ongoing—”

“Tell me something I don’t know and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Something tells me you’ll never be out of my hair.” Nicolai drew a deep breath. “He and his partner, Harlan Thomas, an American, worked as Dietrich Enterprises, on Third Street. Dietrich’s a German citizen, moved here a couple years ago. Forty-five. Unmarried. Blonde over blue. No arrests.”

“That should get me started. Thanks, Sergeant.” Bobby stood, tipping his hat to Nicolai.

Bobby lit up a Viceroy, stepped out into the raging sun and wind and fresh, stinging ocean scent.

“So who are you,” Bobby sucked in the cigarette, exhaled, “Mr. Hans Dietrich?”

 

Excerpted from THE BLUES DON’T CARE Copyright © 2020 by Paul D. Marks. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.


Read the rest in The Blues Don’t Care by Paul D. Marks to see what happens from here.

Thanks to Down & Out Books, Paul D. Marks and Saichek Publicity for this excerpt!

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