Lawrence Block's Matthew Scudder series of crime-fiction novels began in 1976 with the successful The Sins of the Fathers. Over a 44-year span, the author has written 17 novels, a short-story collection and a novella starring the ex-New York City detective. Scudder is a tragically flawed staple of New York's Hell's Kitchen, an alcoholic nice guy performing good deeds for average citizens. Despite being released after 1976's In the Midst of Death, Block considers the 1977 novel Time to Murder and Create as the second installment in the Matthew Scudder series.
The book begins by introducing readers to a charismatic informant named Spinner. During Scudder's career in law-enforcement, Spinner often supplied details closely related to a crime or criminal suspect. Through that relationship, Spinner formed a trust for Scudder that is evident through Block's opening pages. In it, Spinner presents Scudder an envelope with an ominous set of directions to only open the package if Spinner ends up dead. Shortly thereafter, Spinner's corpse is fished out of the river and Scudder opens the envelope.
Skirting around any potential spoilers, Scudder learns that Spinner was collecting monthly installment payments from three individuals. The first is a wealthy, productive architect, the second is the seductive wife of a rich New York elitist and the third is a wealthy entrepreneur developing a political candidacy. What do the three have in common with Spinner and why are they each paying him money? Scudder's role is to determine which of the three debtors murdered Spinner.
Block's narrative is grossly compelling as Scudder learns the identities of each suspect and assumes Spinner's role as payee. By doing so, he purposefully makes himself a target for the killer. With tight-knuckled suspense, the investigation digs into the mortal turpitude of each debtor. As Scudder begins to understand the payments, he questions his own vulnerability. Again, without spoiling it, there's a brilliant complexity to Scudder's relationship with the architect. Scudder's own personal tragedy closely aligns with that portion of the narrative. The end result is another feather in the hat. Lawrence Block's Time to Murder and Create is a riveting, emotional reading experience with no clear-cut heroes or villains. It's an unbiased look at human behavior and the ultimate costs of our failure. Masterful.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
Hardboiled crime novels reached a new height of popularity in the late 1940s. Many scholars and fans point to Mickey Spillane as a catalyst for this pop-culture phenomenon. His debut novel, I, the Jury, was published in 1947 and became an instant runaway bestseller. The book introduced the world to the iconic Mike Hammer, a fictional private-investigator who pursues bad guys mostly in New York City. Hammer is known for his physical rough 'n tumble, unorthodox style gained from his U.S. Army experience in WWII. Hammer's closest friend is Pat Chambers, the Captain of Homicide in the NYPD. Hammer also has a continuous, flirtatious affair with his secretary Velda throughout the series. While I struggled to fully enjoy I, the Jury and found it rather flat, I wanted to attempt another Mike Hammer novel to see if it produced a different reading experience. My selection is the second installment, My Gun is Quick.
The novel begins with Mike Hammer having coffee at a neighborhood diner. An attractive, yet homely, woman takes a seat beside Hammer and asks if he’d buy her a coffee. Hammer, never turning away female companionship, obliges despite warnings from the diner's owner. After a brief conversation Hammer learns that the unnamed woman, who Hammer later refers to as Red, was probably in the prostitution game and is in a really bad place. Hammer feels a great deal of compassion for the nice woman and offers her some money to set her life on track. Happily, she thanks Hammer and the two go their separate ways. The next morning, Hammer learns that the woman was struck and killed by a drunk driver.
Hoping to help identify the woman, Hammer meets with Pat to examine the body. After finding some bruises and markings on the woman, Hammer suspects that she was actually murdered. Despite Pat's skepticism, Hammer starts investigating the woman's history and the events leading to her death after their chance meeting. The investigation takes Hammer into New York's call girl racket and a millionaire named Berin-Grotin. After Hammer learns about the girl's connection to one of Berin-Grotin's staff members, the wealthy businessman actually hires Hammer to investigate the murder further. Along the way, Hammer falls in love with a reformed call girl named Lola in some of the narrative's most effective scenes.
The first thing to know is that My Gun is Quick is a far superior novel to I, the Jury. While I'm sure Spillane and Hammer fans will disagree, Hammer is just way more dynamic in this novel. With I, the Jury, Mike Hammer is so deadpan. He's a gruff, loudmouthed detective that just came across as abrasive and crude. Further, in the series debut, Hammer really doesn't solve anything. Instead, the clues are nearly served to him on typewritten notes. Spillane's writing in My Gun is Quick provides so much texture to this character. Hammer is drawn to this unnamed woman with his client's voice is speaking to him from the grave. She's pleading for him to learn her identity and provide retribution for her death. The idea that Hammer may have caused her death by putting her back on the streets is just really clever writing. It's a brilliant, multifaceted narrative that has Hammer's pursuit of the killer as his own, personal attempt at forgiving himself.
My Gun is Quick is one of the best novels I've read of any genre. Mickey Spillane's masterful prose is saturated in gritty realism, emotional stress and a thick-laced, impending sense of doom throughout. If you read nothing else, please read this novel. My Gun is Quick is the quintessential masterpiece of hardboiled crime.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
After 13-years of writing stand-alone hardboiled and crime noir novels, MacDonald's love for nautical adventure and the Florida Gulf Coast would logically evolve into a series character. Beginning in 1964, the author would embark on a 21-book series of nautical-crime books starring salvage-consultant Travis McGee. MacDonald's transition into the series mostly halted his stand-alone hardboiled-crime writing. In fact, 1963 proved to be one of the last few years that MacDonald would write multiple stand-alone novels. That year, he wrote a screenplay novelization called I'll Go on Singing and only two crime novels – The Drowner and On the Run. I decided to try out the latter title to determine if the author's crime-noir writing had declined by that point in his career.
On the Run introduces readers to a multimillionaire named Tom. At 90-years old, the feeble man has hired a private-investigator to track down his two estranged grandchildren – George and Sid. In backstory, the author reveals that both were taken from Tom in their early childhood. After their mother died, the two were placed into foster care and ultimately grew up apart from each other and their grandfather. With over $8-million to divvy up, Tom hopes to locate the two of them.
The first few chapters are dedicated to Sid's life as a soldier, used car salesman and husband. After learning that his wife had an affair with a high-level crime-kingpin, Sid assaults the man and leaves him facially scarred. Since the beating, Sid stays one step ahead of the mob and flees from town to town. It's a roadside life filled with deceit, booze and women. After learning Sid's whereabouts, Tom sends his nurse to Texas to summon Sid back home. In doing so, Tom opens the door for a mob assassin to track down Sid's location.
In alternating chapters, there's a backstory on George, a fairly one-dimensional character that's greedy and deceptive. Knowing about Sid's price tag to the mob, George is enthusiastic to meet Sid at their grandfather's house. Hoping to not only cash-in with the mob, George wants to get his hands on Sid's portion of their grandfather's inheritance.
In a rare misstep, John D. MacDonald creates a convoluted mess for the reader to follow. With having to explore both George and Sid's past, the interweaving characters didn't quite meld together as well as the author likely intended. At 140-pages, I could sense that MacDonald had some unused story ideas and just threw them together in an attempt at fluid storytelling. The pacing is off, there's minimum character development and the romantic narrative planned between Tom's nurse Paula and Sid was rushed and didn't feel organic.
On the Run suffers from misdirection, shallow characters and an uneven plot. With so many great MacDonald novels to choose from, your reading efforts would be better spent somewhere else. On the Run is disposable fiction.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
Episode 40 of the Paperback Warrior Podcast is our contentious “Women and Minorities” episode. If you can handle the heat, listen to the guys candidly discuss the work of Helen Nielsen, Amber Dean, Joseph Nazel, and Marc Olden. Be warned: This episode is sure to be highly controversial and may spark a worldwide boycott. If you dare, check it out on your favorite podcast app, stream below or download directly HERE:
Listen to "Episode 40: Women and Minorities" on Spreaker.
Beginning in 1949, Day Keene (real name Gunard Hjertstedt) wrote over 50 novels. Just four years before his 1969 death, his heist novel Carnival of Death was published by Macfadden-Bartell. It was reprinted in 2012 by Simon and Schuster imprint Prologue Crime as an affordable ebook. Despite my preference for his 1950s work, I found I owned a copy of this book and decided to sample Keene's late career output. Was it a good decision?
A Los Angeles man named Laredo once fought side by side with Cuban rebels in the Bay of Pigs. Losing a leg in the fight, now Laredo dresses like a clown and runs a trio of children's rides in a shopping plaza's parking lot. After appearing on a radio show hosted by Tom Daly, Laredo's tiny carnival finds itself besieged by bank robbing clowns. Let me explain...
An armored car parks in the shopping plaza to run change into a store. While there, one of the guards decides to grab a quick cup of pink lemonade from Laredo's wife. Within minutes he drops dead from an apparent poisoning. While the guard's co-worker is distracted with the spontaneous death, clowns descend out of nowhere and create a confusing spectacle. One clown shoots Laredo's maintenance man, another shoots a woman while holding a baby. Another hops in the car, retrieves all of the clowns and begins throwing thousands of dollars in cash out of the back door to the money-grabbing hordes. The end result leaves two people fatally shot, one man poisoned and Laredo and his wife accused of murder. And a bunch of carnival attendees rich from surviving this macabre Shooting Gallery.
After the police name Laredo as the chief suspect in the murders and bank heist, Tom Daly emerges as the novel's main character. After Laredo's appearance on Daly's show, the radio host feels that Laredo is too genuine to pull off a caper. He truly feels the man is innocent and teams up with his editor to solve the crime. The book's narrative finds the duo in Los Angeles, Las Vegas and even Big Bear Ski Resort chasing clues and suspects.
I don't think anyone would declare Carnival of Death a good representation of Day Keene's writing. The storyline was a bit flimsy in spots and really disregards the police and their roles in the investigation. I can't imagine that a crime of this size (with press and people swarming) would rely on two radio professionals to do all of the heavy lifting. The narrative was simply unconvincing in that regard. Like his 1952 novel Wake Up to Murder, Carnival of Death still possesses two of Keene's strongest genre tropes – repressed desires and sexual frustration. Aside from those strong points, the author is fairly complacent in drawing up the standard whodunit and inserting rather anonymous protagonists as heroes. You can do so much better than this late career entry from Day Keene.
Buy a copy of this book HERE.
Deemed "America's Favorite Frontier Writer", Louis L'Amour's chronicle of the fictional Sackett family was a bestselling series. Beginning in 1960, the 17-book series is still held in high regard with fans of the western genre. While the novels focus on frontier life in the 1800s, the author began envisioning the Sackett family's early origins in England and America. Starting with 1974's "Sackett's Land", L'Amour wrote four novels that showcases the family's humble beginnings in the late 1500s through 1620. The fourth and final of these portfolio installments was "Jubal Sackett", published in 1985.
Both "Sackett's Land" and its successor, "To the Far Blue Mountains", feature Barnabas Sackett's expedition from England to eastern America. In "The Warrior's Path", Barnabas' sons Kin-Ring and Yance are the chief protagonists with much of the action taking place in America and the Caribbean Islands. While Barnabas' son Jubal is mentioned in these books, it is explained to readers that he was a loner and distanced himself from his family. Jubal was obsessed with exploring the far west and walking "where no white-man had ever wandered". It's only fitting that L'Amour dedicated a full-length novel to this fascinating character.
As the book opens, Jubal Sackett is hunting in an area that would later be called Tennessee. After a brief attack by an Indian, Jubal generously welcomes the brave to dine with him. The man introduces himself as Keokotah, a Kickapoo native. After learning Jubal's name, Keokotah informs him that his father Barnabas was killed in battle. The two become friends and decide to journey into the “Far Seeing Lands” west of the Mississippi River. On the journey, the two educate each other on hunting, rituals and their family history. L'Amour centers these exchanges as a focal point for much of the paperback’s first-half.
Later, the two journeymen meet a tribe of Natchee that ask Jubal for a favor. Their tribe's high priestess, Itchakomi, has left the fold and is desired by one of their chief warriors, an arrogant man named Kapata. The Natchee feel that if Jubal is headed further west, he will find Itchakomi and can ask her to return home to marry Kapata. Jubal eventually meets Itchakomi and the two fall in love. The author's second-half portrays Jubal's defense of Itchakomi from Kapata but also warring factions from Spain.
In a lot of ways, this novel's second-half resembles “To the Far Blue Mountains” in the way that Jubal and his allies build and defend a fort. As the waves of attacks descend on Jubal's home, it's reminiscent of the British pirates and warlike tribes that Barnabas fought that will seem a little familiar to the reader.
At 350+ pages, there's an epic feel to the novel as readers experience many seasons with Jubal, including hunting, expanding his circle of friends and allies, and contending with nature's harsh oppression in high altitudes. With exciting hand-to-hand skirmishes with Indians, blade duels with the Spanish and fierce combat with savage animals, “Jubal Sackett” is the quintessential wilderness tale. I highly recommend all four of these early Sackett adventures, but place this one just a little higher than “The Warrior's Path” in terms of epic escapism. In the book's closing notes, L'Amour explained to readers that more early Sackett adventures were to follow, including the family's participation in America's Revolutionary and Civil Wars. Sadly, L'Amour passed away in 1988 and was unable to continue his storytelling. What remains is a powerful testament to America's early exploration and strong independence.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
Enter Without Desire from 1954 was the fourth published novel from Ed Lacy whose real name was Leonard Zinberg (1911-1968). The paperback was originally released by Avon, and has been reprinted several times since then. It remains available today as an ebook for 99 cents from an outfit called Grotto Pulp Fiction. I’ve always enjoyed Lacy’s work and recently came into possession of a dollar. As such, I decided to download the novel into my Kindle and give it a shot.
As the story begins, Marshal Jameson is a failing artistic sculptor who leaves his reclusive Long Island shack and hitchhikes to New York City on New Years Eve looking for some fun and companionship. To get out of the cold drizzle, Marshal joins the studio audience of a radio game show. He’s selected to be a contestant and paired up with a beautiful audience member named Elma to answer questions on the air in exchange for a cash prize. Thankfully, the author shares with the reader that Elma has big breasts.
As paperback “meet-cute” gambits go, this one is pretty good. Together, Marshal and Elma win a pile of cash on the radio show and decide to spend New Year’s Eve together. Having not been around a woman in months, Elma really gets Marshal’s body chemistry bubbling. Flush with winnings, the couple decides to spend New Years Eve together, and Marshal (as well as the author and the reader) falls madly in love with Elma. The majority of the novel is a very mainstream and nice romance story (albeit from a completely male perspective), and only because this is an Ed Lacy book was I certain that things would eventually get seriously dark.
The plot with Elma takes a pause for sizable flashbacks giving the reader a little more history of Marshal the sculptor’s life before he discovered clay back when he was a young ad-man. Fans of the TV show “Mad Men” will enjoy this segment. His service in WW2 and the war’s aftermath is the focus of another long flashback that brings us forward in time to the fateful New Years Eve when Marshal met Elma.
Be forewarned that the paperback’s first two-thirds is almost devoid of any crime, action, or suspense. The author drops a couple hints along the way about where this is heading as Elma mentions her estranged husband. The book’s second half jumps around in time until the full picture becomes clear to the reader. The last third is a rather compelling crime story about a murder and its tricky aftermath.
To be clear, I loved, loved, loved this book. However, I recognize it’s only a crime novel in the broadest sense of the word. The first person narration was really well-done, and the story of Marshal and Elma is fantastic relationship drama. Basically, Enter Without Desire is a mainstream novel that evolves into a compelling crime-story with a twisty, violent climax. As long as you know what you are getting, you’re likely to enjoy this book as much as I did. Recommended.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
Famed frontier storyteller Louis L'Amour had a successful series of westerns starring various members of the Sackett family. While positioning most of these novels in the 1800s, L'Amour's later installments presented the family's early history. Beginning in 1974, L'Amour released “Sackett's Land”, chronologically the first Sackett story. Set between 1599-1620, the book introduces readers to Barnabas Sackett and his early exploration into America. Continuing Barnabas' story, “To the Far Blue Mountains” was released in 1976 and slowly transforms the series emphasis from Barnabas to his sons. In 1980, “The Warrior's Path” was released with the primary focus on Barnabas' sons Kin-Ring and Yance circa 1630.
The opening chapters find Kin-Ring and Yance in northeastern America. The two have been summoned by a small village to track the whereabouts of two young women. Fearing the girls were kidnapped by Indians, Kin-Ring pairs up with longtime allies, the Catawba tribe, to search for the missing girls. Surprisingly, Kin-Ring discovers that Indians weren't behind the girls' disappearance.
After a skirmish with Joseph Pittingel, the Sacketts learn that he is behind a robust slave-trading enterprise that focuses on kidnapping young white women and then selling them in the Caribbean islands. This portion of the narrative provides an opportunity for L'Amour to revisit the swashbuckling adventure aspect that made the prior books so much fun. After traveling to Jamaica, Kin-Ring embarks on a quest to not only retrieve the girls but to find the buyers. While using swords, knives and black powder, Kin-Ring bravely attempts to stop the slave-trading business at its source.
It is unfair to compare this novel to “Sackett's Land” or “To the Far Blue Mountains”. Lightning struck twice for L'Amour as both of those are some of the best literary works you'll find – of any genre. But, that winning formula doesn't quite carry over to “The Warrior's Path”. Kin-Ring is written with the same basic attributes as Barnabas...but something is just missing. I didn't quite grasp a firm connection with the character. Despite the book's sprawling locations, it didn't have the epic feel that the prior books conveyed so well. Nevertheless, this is an entertaining adventure novel and would probably be held in higher regard if not for the prior novels. I'm looking forward to reading the fourth and final novel of the Sacketts' early history, “Jubal Sackett”, in hopes that the author finally places the frontier action west of the Mississippi River. As a fan of wilderness survival tales, I'm hoping that book excels and makes up for my lukewarm reception to “The Warrior's Path”.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
Beginning in 1955, French author Maurice Gabriel Brault (1912-1984) began writing espionage novels under the pseudonym M.G. Braun starring French Secret Service Agent Al Glenne. The series was wildly popular and went on for around 75 installments over the next 24 years. Between 1962 and 1966, four books from the series were translated into English and released by Berkley as the Counterspy series. So, while 1962’s Apôtres De La Violence is the 25th installment in the French Al Glenne novels, Apostles of Violence is #1 in the English language Counterspy series.
As the novel opens, our hero and narrator, Al Glenne, is in Caracas, Venezuela visiting another French special agent named Theo who is stationed there with sexy Latinas serving his every need. However, this is no vacation. A satellite equipped with a deadly laser weapon belonging to either the Americans or the Russians (the French aren’t certain) has crashed in the Venezuelan jungle. Al and Theo need to recover the space weapon before it falls into the wrong hands. Theo sent for Al because if his experience in jungle fighting, and also because Al is the star of the book series.
Theo explains to Al (and the reader) that it’s important for France to find out whether the satellite belongs to the Americans or Russians. Meanwhile, French scientists are 15 years behind in the field of laser technology. If Al and Theo can bring back the laser, the French will be able to catch up within a few short months. The presumption is that the Americans, the Russians, and the Brits are all aware of the fallen satellite’s location, and the race is on to find it first.
After reading a lot of American and British spy novels, it’s interesting to read one in which the hero is looking after the self-interest of a completely other country. The French team of Al and Theo parachute into the jungle, find the
satellite crash site, and begin their dangerous journey back to safety. The gunfire in the distance gives them no sense of comfort that it’s going to be a simple trip. Even scarier, are the Venezuelan Indians living in the woods shooting arrows at everything that moves.
As you might expect, the French team encounters a voluptuous Brazilian girl to be their guide through the jungle to the crash site. As they encounter teams from other countries, it’s the Americans who behave like aggressive jackasses. This may bother some American readers, but I found it very interesting and allowed for the idea that not every American behaves in a righteous and honorable manner at all times. As the multi-national group begins being murdered one-by-one, it’s up to Al to get to the bottom of the situation, so he’ll be alive to star in future series installments.
American readers will be tempted to compare Counterpsy to another long-running, popular French series with limited English paperback reprints: the Malko books by Gerard de Villiers. While Malko books are more cloak and dagger espionage adventures, Braun’s Apostles of Violence is a much simpler jungle combat story with a genuine mystery woven into the plot. The Counterspy books are narrated by Al Glenne, and that first person combat-based mission recalled Peter McCurtin’s Soldier of Fortune series. I’d also favorably compare the series to Edward Aarons’ Assignment series starring Sam Durrell.
At 143 big-font pages, Apostles of Violence wasn’t a heavy lift. It was an action-packed, very straightforward, and linear paperback with very little character development or emotional flab. The translation was so smooth that you’d never know it was originally written in French. The heroes were plenty heroic and the villains were heels, and the novel was a lot of fun to read. Best of all, the paperback had a killer twist ending that no one will ever see coming. Overall, I liked it quite a bit, I intend to acquire and read the three other English reprints in the series. Recommended.
Fun Fact:
The English translations of the Counterspy novels are credited to Ralph Hackett, but this is a pseudonym for the real translator, Lowell Blair. In the middle of the 20th century, Blair was a busy guy translating important works of French literature into English, including The Count of Monte Cristo and The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I’m guessing that he regarded the Counterspy paperbacks as beneath his austere talents, so he performed the translation under a fake name? The actual rationale for this decision is a secret lost to the ages.
Acknowledgment
Thanks to the always excellent Spy Guys and Gals website for providing the background on this series.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
The fiction of Cleve Adams (1895-1949) first appeared in pulp magazines like Double Detective and Detective Fiction Weekly. Beginning in 1940, Adams launched a seven-book series of private-eye novels starring Rex McBride. He also authored two novels starring private-eye John Shannon as well as a two-book series of mysteries starring Bill Rye (published under the pseudonym John Spain). The author also wrote a handful of stand-alone, hardboiled crime novels and a number of short stories. One of those, "The Key", was featured in the July 1940 issue of Black Mask and collected in the 2010 collection The Black Lizard Big Book of Black Mask Stories.
"The Key" stars Canavan, a tough-as-nails police lieutenant working the beat in Los Angeles. After bringing a thug into Night Court, Canavan spots an attractive young woman named Hope who seemingly doesn't belong with the night's typical lot of thieves, prostitutes and miscreants. After paying her $8 fine for skipping out of a restaurant tab, Canavan offers to drive Hope back to the hotel where she resides. It's on this drive that Hope confesses to Canavan that she was to meet a man at the diner but he didn't show. Her belongings were apparently stolen from her room, including her meal money. Canavan, feeling pity for the young woman, escorts her to her hotel room only to awaken a few hours later with a knot on his head, his wallet missing and Hope nowhere to be found. Literally.
Canavan believes Hope is attached to something other than just petty theft. After chasing her trail, the police lieutenant runs into a Syndicate goon named Kolinski who may be behind the murder of Hope's brother. After learning that Hope may be on the run from her brother's killer, Canavan defies the law and finds himself as a wanted fugitive. In attempting to find Hope, Canavan hopes to prove his innocence as the corpses pile up.
This was a rather odd whodunit with a number of nonsensical scenes involving Canavan searching for clues. There's Kolinksi's racket of running a protection association for morticians begging them question: were mortuaries frequently robbed and vandalized in the 1940s? The idea of a “key to solve the murder” is an old genre trope that even feels over utilized for the time period. At six chapters, the novella moves briskly and Canavan is a believable hero. Everything else wasn't. Overall, "The Key" was an enjoyable albeit average mystery that left me curious to read more of Cleve Adams' literary work.
Buy a copy of this mammoth collection HERE
Robert B. Parker authored a whopping 40 installments of his Spenser series of private-eye novels. The series was adapted for television in 1985 and consisted of 66 total episodes starring Robert Ulrich as the satirical Boston detective. In 1999, Joe Mantegna played the character in three made-for-television films. In 2020, Netflix released a film version entitled Spenser Confidential. It was based loosely on the 2010 novel written by Ace Atkins, an author that Parker's estate hired to continue the Spenser series. The character was portrayed by Mark Wahlberg, a baffling choice largely panned by critics. After enjoying the series debut, The Godwulf Manuscript (1973), and its follow-up God Save the Child (1974), I just knew that the series third installment, Mortal Stakes (1975), would be another fantastic entry.
In Mortal Stakes, the general manager of a fictional Boston Red Sox team, Erskine, hires Spenser to investigate their star pitcher Marty Rabb. Erskine feels that Rabb has been on the take to purposefully lose games. Erskine requests that Spenser go undercover as a sportswriter to investigate Rabb's possible gambling scheme. Once Spenser accepts and spends a few days spectating in the dugout and press box, a ruthless shylock named Doerr warns Spenser to back out of the job. Thankfully, the threat just encourages Spenser to dig deeper.
The investigation leads Spenser into rural Illinois where he discovers Rabb's wife isn't who she claims to be. The two may not even be married. Further, all evidence suggests that Rabb's wife was a former prostitute and performed in an adult movie. After digging up the dirt in Illinois, Spenser dives headfirst into the prostitution racket in New York City while contending with an unlikely enemy – a Red Sox radio announcer named Maynard. How Rabb, his wife, Maynard and Doerr are connected is that paperback’s central story. Like the previous installments, the author counters the suspense and tension with Spenser's condescending, satirical quips. In a lot of ways, Spenser is a far superior improvement to Richard Prather's iconic Shell Scott. Spenser is a smooth, real cool jock whereas Shel Scott is a chuckle-headed, unbelievable farce. Both are enjoyable.
In many ways, Mortal Stakes turns a corner in the series. By the end of this novel, Spenser has become a changed man. More violent, less calm. His patience is replaced with anger. While always fueled to fight, the book's fiery finale thumbs the Zippo and throws it into the fumes. Spenser's violent actions are matched only by his own weighty guilt, a balance that's emotionally sparked during a counseling session with love interest Susan Silverman.
I think the more abrasive evolution is effectively captured in one of the book's scenes. Spenser routinely packs his .38 Special revolver in a shoulder rig. By the book's end, Spenser reaches for a shotgun and rams five shells in. It's this scene that's just as important as the novel's climactic firefight because it illustrates the evolution of the character. In reading these books in order, I'm curious to see if that same stony intensity prevails in future installments. I'm hopeful. Mortal Stakes was a riveting, explosive chapter in this long-running series. Highly recommended.
Buy a copy of Mortal Stakes HERE
Amber Dean (real name Amber Dean Getzin, 1902-1985) was a New York native that authored 17 mystery novels between 1944 and 1973. One of the author's most consistent characters was that of Abbie Harris, a nosy amateur detective that debuted in 1944's Dead Man's Float. The seven-book series features Harris solving mysteries and assisting police in and around Rochester, New York. My first experience with Amber Dean is a stand-alone novel entitled Bullet Proof, published in 1959 by Popular Library.
In the novel's opening chapter, Jac Constable and his wife Betty are talking with New York State Police regarding a possible male voyeur that was spotted in their vineyard. When the police depart after failing to locate the perpetrator, Jac spots the man in a nearby bush. After a confusing sequence of events, Betty calls the police to return to the house. But too little too late. Betty is shot and killed by the lunatic hiding in the bushes.
Next, this opening sequence is replayed again from the perspective of the lunatic in the bushes, a 16-year old named Henry Muslim. Muslim has escaped from a nearby juvenile delinquent facility called Diligence and spent the last two nights sleeping in the basement of an abandoned house. After stealing a .22 rifle, Muslim is driven by the need for attention. He isn't fueled by adolescent rage, sex or money. He simply wants to be chased. In alternating chapters, the book changes perspective from Muslim to various law enforcement officers. But, the book's main character is Jac Constable's sexy secretary Hallie Brown.
The author forces readers to spend a great deal of time in the headspace of Hallie. These sequences are saturated with Hallie's lust for Jac, her flirtation with a local cop and daydream segments where Hallie is embraced by a husky cop and taken to an Alaskan cabin. As a fan of hardboiled, vintage crime-fiction that features tough cops and ruthless killers, the author's lovey-dovey approach to storytelling wasn't exactly the narrative promised by the book's inspiring cover. Eventually (I mean page 80 of 124-pages), Hallie is kidnapped by Muslim but the two never actually engage in dialogue. In fact, Muslim ties her up and leaves. The end.
I'm sure Amber Dean is a fine mystery author and has her share of cozy mystery fans. Based on my experience with Bullet Proof, I'm not one of them. Her method of saddling the storytelling on a number of characters was confusing and took me out of the story. After a shocking opening chapter, the rest of the book just waddles in mediocrity as Muslim peeps on residents, sits at a drive-in movie and tinkers with a car. Hallie is wasted as an overbearing sex goddess that remains tied in a chair for most of the book's hectic finish. The cops are clueless while the author pitches a surprise swerve at the end.
Bullet Proof was a dreadful reading experience and I wouldn't recommend it to anyone. If you have to own this book due to its vivid cover, please entertain purchasing a copy of it HERE.
Before his untimely death at the age of 38 in 1960, William Ard was on a roll writing popular mystery fiction under his own name as well as the Buchanan westerns under the pseudonym Jonas Ward. Ard’s demise interrupted his Lou Largo series of hardboiled private eye novels, but the character lived on through later installments written by ghost writers Lawrence Block and John Jakes before they became famous. Ard’s first two Lou Largo novels are expensive collector’s items, but they have been reprinted in a single volume by Ramble House Books providing an affordable opportunity to enjoy the 1959 opening installment, All I Can Get.
Largo is a charming and wisecracking Manhattan private investigator with a difficult client: a wealthy media mogul named Milton Weston. Largo is hired to perform a background check on Mr. Weston’s new infatuation - a gold-digging chippy that he intends to make his eighth wife. The tycoon is thoroughly uninterested in hearing the truth about the party girl and refuses to pay Largo’s fee at a time when Largo’s reserve funds are running thin.
Ard begins the Lou Largo debut in a fun, lighthearted style that recalls the Carter Brown mysteries featuring over-the-top, wealthy eccentrics who Largo is forced to endure for business and economic reasons. And then things take a very clever turn. Nothing is as it seems in the opening act of this deceptively simple novel. Through a non-linear storyline with early-novel flashbacks and flash-forwards reminiscent of Quentin Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, the reader is treated to the story behind the story, and we learn that Largo has a little deception in his heart as well regarding the girl. This early-plot twist catapults All I Can Get from a simple, lighthearted crime novel into something bordering on brilliant. And sexy.
While never veering into pornography or graphic descriptions of lovemaking, All I Can Get was surprising explicit for a 1959 novel. I couldn’t imagine sex scenes like this in 1952 as the world apparently just wasn’t ready at that point. Seven years later, here we are. The sex scenes work because they have real context and help to explain the decisions the characters make throughout this well-crafted paperback.
As the story progresses, it becomes clear that the doomed romance between the millionaire and the sexpot is actually the subplot, not the main dish. The real story involves the Cuban syndicate based out of Tampa’s Ybor City neighborhood and a newspaper rivalry in a nearby beach town. Lou Largo isn’t even present for a large part of the book’s second act. But sure enough, Ard weaves these threads into the early-novel story of Largo, Mr. Weston and his new fiancé. All of this leads to a genuinely exciting and violent conclusion.
This is a tough book to review because I don’t want to spoil anything for you. If you enjoy crime fiction and can appreciate truly exceptional writing in the genre, you’re bound to be pleased with All I Can Get. It’s as if Ard took a close look at the dumb-but-fun private-eye sub-genre (think Richard Prather’s Shell Scott books) and asked himself “How can I turn this formula on its ear, and make it something that transcends the genre?”
Ard writes in a style popularized by Ed McBain in his 87th Precinct series. Basically, it’s a third-person narration with doses of personality and commentary sprinkled into the action with the omniscient point of view. It makes for a fun read, and Ard’s humorous narrative quips are a delight. It gives the reader the sense that you’re in good hands with Ard as your tour guide on this twisty paperback ride.
The downside is that Ard is considered to be a “collectible” author by the types of people who buy vintage paperbacks, encase them in plastic, and never read a word. Thank heavens Ramble House has compiled the first two books in the series into a single trade paperback volume titled Calling Lou Largo, which you can purchase HERE. However you get your hands on a reading copy of All I Can Get, please do so. It’s something special.
Addendum
Lou Largo Series Order and True Authors:
1. All I Can Get (1959) by William Ard
2. Like Ice She Was (1960) by William Ard
3. Babe in the Woods (1960) by Lawrence Block
4. Make Mine Mavis (1961) by John Jakes
5. And So to Bed (1962) by John Jakes
6. Give Me This Woman (1962) by John Jakes
Before his popular Earl Drake series of heist adventures, Dan J. Marlowe authored a five-book series of hotel detective novels. Beginning with the 1959 debut, Doorway to Death, Marlowe introduced Johnny Killain, a brawny WW2 veteran who works nights at the Hotel Duarte in New York City. The author's consistent cast of characters includes Sally, the building's switchboard operator who also serves as Killain's main squeeze. I was thrilled with the series first two installments and I have been anxious to read the third entry, Doom Service (1960).
In the book's opening chapter, Killain receives a call from a bartender at the Rollin' Stone Tavern asking for him to pick up “his boy”. Readers quickly learn that the boy is Sally's brother Charlie, a young and successful boxer. Earlier in the night, Charlie experienced his first loss in a high-profile bout. Many think the match was fixed and that getting knocked-out in the sixth round was actually a high-priced dive. Killain finds Charlie nearly dead drunk at the bar and offers to take him home. However, two armed thugs barge into the bar and Charlie is fatally shot.
Readers follow Killain as he backtracks the events leading up to Charlie's boxing loss. In doing so, Killain stumbles upon the lucrative gambling circuit and a high-roller named Manfredi. Killain learns that Charlie was supposed to lose in the fourth round and that Manfredi had lost a fortune on the fight. Adding to the confusion is Sally's discovery that Charlie was holding over $100K in his bank deposit book. Was this a payout to lose in the fourth or sixth round? Did someone “re-fix” the fight for the sixth round to throw Manfredi? The answer is buried in a cast of boxing characters from referees to fight veterans, from ringside doctors to journalists. By attempting to solve Charlie's murder, Killain exposes the city's core of corruption.
Despite its silly name, Doom Service was an iron-fisted, hardboiled crime novel that should appeal to fans of the “no nonsense” approach of Mickey Spillane. There's crooked guys, shady ladies and a lot of tough guy, knuckle-up negotiations. Marlowe spends a few chapters revealing the intricacies of Sally's inheritance in terms of IRS regulations, estate taxes and monetary penalties. I'm guessing that Marlowe wrote this in the midst of settling his wife's estate – she died in 1957 – or this was simply an exercise to reveal what he learned from the experience. It felt a little out of place, but eventually circles back to the central story and ties in to Charlie's possession of the funds.
Doom Service is on par with the first two Johnny Killain novels although I would be remiss if I didn't criticize the author's setting of the story. I enjoyed the prior books due to Killain working inside of the hotel, not out of it. This novel puts more emphasis on Killain as a private-eye, including romps with a sexy secretary and a lounge act singer. I think I prefer Killain solving mysteries involving dead guests or murder inside the hotel. Nevertheless, Doom Service delivered high-quality goods right to my doorstep.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
Female authors are rather underrepresented at Paperback Warrior (nothing personal, ladies!), so we put our feelers out for book recommendations of hardboiled vintage crime fiction by women. One name that kept popping up was Helen Nielsen (1918-2002), a popular mystery author of the 1950s and 1960s who also wrote TV episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents and Perry Mason. My introduction to her work was the 1953 paperback, Detour to Death (also released as just Detour). The novel remains available today as a cheap ebook and audiobook - both free with a Kindle Unlimited subscription.
Danny Ross is an 18 year-old drifter hitchhiking south from Chicago in search of a fresh start. He gets a ride with a kindly physician named Dr. Gaynor who needs to make a quick detour in the small town of Mountain View where the doc has patients among the locals. After a brief visit at the town’s diner, the Doc heads back to his car where Danny finds him minutes later murdered from a blow to a head. All in all, it’s a pretty basic setup for a pretty standard whodunnit.
Because Danny is both a stranger in town and the one who found the bludgeoned doctor, he’s immediately the prime suspect for the murder and detained pending further police investigation (i.e. beatings). Fortunately, two attorneys - one a drunk and the other an accomplished trial lawyer - team up to investigate the matter to learn the truth. This leads to some astonishingly unrealistic scenes of investigative procedures in which the attorney drags along both the sheriff and Danny to examine the crime scene and interview witnesses in a handful of scenes that defy any understanding of basic law enforcement operations.
While Nielsen could craft a decent mystery with solid prose, she introduces way, way too many characters for a 192 page book. I get that it’s a small town and a lot of people are suspects with varying motives, but I needed a Game of Thrones-style org chart to keep track of the townsfolk, their alliances, and their grievances.
Back to the woman-thing, Nielsen made some narrative choices that I think her male contemporaries would have done way differently. For example, the sheriff beats Danny to a bloody pulp to elicit a confession, but this was done off-page. Does anyone think that author Dan J. Marlowe would have passed up the opportunity to chronicle every nose-crushing blow? There were other examples where Nielsen pulled punches - both literally and figuratively - that serve to make the novel rather soft-boiled.
I could go on, but you get the idea. Detour to Death was just a paint-by-numbers mystery whodunnit. Nielsen could clearly write well enough, but her plotting in this one was a real snooze. Seeing the shortcomings of Detour to Death through a gendered prism may not be fair to other female authors, but we also shouldn’t be grading this softball of a novel on a curve just because the writer was a lady. There were certainly plenty of crappy crime novels written by both men and women in the 1950s. I was just hoping for something better given Nielsen’s reputation for quality.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
Frederick Lorenz was the pseudonym used by Lorenz Heller (1911-????) for a handful of paperback crime novels released by Lion Books in the 1950s. The New Jersey native worked as a seaman on a freighter, so it’s only fitting that I’m introduced to his body of work through his shipwreck novel A Rage at Sea from June 1953. Best of all, the book has been reprinted by Stark House Crime Classics as a double along with Lorenz’s A Party Every Night and an informative introduction by Nicholas Litchfield.
The protagonist of A Rage at Sea is Miami drunkard Frank Dixon, a former boat captain who lost his ship in a poker game and now is in the process of drinking himself to death. Out of nowhere, an opportunity arises for Dixon to captain a rich man’s yacht on a four-month cruise through the Bahamas and into the Virgin Islands. Broke and in need of a change, Dixon accepts the gig.
The owner of the yacht is an obese and lazy millionaire playboy named Charles Allard who doesn’t know the first thing about boating. He relies on Theron Addams, his right-hand man, purser, cook, and steward. Addams is also a con-man fueled by greed and love of money ripping off Allard every day of the journey. Dixon’s only reliable ally on the boat is the young engineer named Wirt, but he’s not a man you ever want to cross.
Many authors of nautical fiction fall into the trap of getting extra-technical with their level of boating detail in the narrative. Fortunately, Lorenz avoids that literary pitfall. Nearly the entire first half of the paperback was at-sea, but the reader was able to follow the action without any trouble because the author made the narrative about the four main characters. In fact, I can’t recall a lean crime paperback from the 1950s with character development handled more adeptly than A Rage at Sea.
It’s almost halfway through the novel that an accident leaves the foursome stranded on a deserted Caribbean island - as promised in the book’s synopsis. It’s then that the slow-burn novel begins to boil a bit, but it remains a character drama with shifting alliances and resentments simmering from their time at sea together. The bad blood and bruised egos evolve into threats of real violence and acts of compromised ethics and actual heroism.
A Rage at Sea isn’t particularly action-packed, but the author’s excellent writing keep the pages flying by. To be sure, it’s an odd book - more cerebral than most paperbacks of its type. Dixon is a flawed, but logical, mostly honorable and highly-competent, hero. He’s exactly the kind of guy you’d want to be stranded with on a deserted island. I really liked A Rage at Sea, but I could see it being polarizing for readers who want a bit more swashbuckling in their maritime adventures. Recommended.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
On Paperback Warrior Podcast Episode 39, we take a deep-dive into the crime fiction work of Wade Miller, including a review of “Kitten with a Whip.” A review of Mickey Spillane’s “My Gun is Quick” inspires a discussion of 1940s vs. 1950s crime fiction with lots of vintage paperback fun starring Eric and Tom! You can stream the show at below or listen on any podcast app. Download directly HERE.
Listen to "Episode 39: Wade Miller" on Spreaker.
Before he was a mainstay on the bestseller list, Great Britain’s Ken Follett began his career as a novelist with a trilogy of books released in 1974 and 1975 starring a wealthy businessman-sleuth named Apples Carstairs. The slim paperback originals were published under the pseudonym Simon Myles and were reprinted under Follett’s own name when he became a big-money brand name. The first book in the series was titled The Big Needle, later released in the U.S. as The Big Apple before reverting to the original title for subsequent reprints.
The story opens in London with Apple in bed with his two girlfriends - one white, one black (ahhh, 1974) - when he is awakened by a visit from an unexpected guest, his ex-wife. She tells Apple that their 17 year-old daughter is in the hospital following a heroin overdose. Rather than sitting vigil by his daughter’s bedside, our hero takes to the streets with a vow to find and kill the pusher who supplied his kid with the smack.
Apples beats the tar out of a junkie and learns that the dealer is a spade (again, 1974) named Harry Hat who, you guessed it, wears flamboyant pimp hats. Harry Hat proves to be a more elusive and dangerous foe than Apples anticipated as the dealer leaves a trail of beatings, kidnappings and rapes behind.
I was hoping Follett had something clever in store for the manhunt, but instead Apples goes to great lengths to become a heroin supplier to infiltrate the London supply chain from above. From this vantage point, he learns that the heroin gang stretches deeper into the fabric of London’s elite - far beyond his original target of Harry Hat. This investigation was interspersed with graphic sex scenes every few chapters leading up to the inevitable confrontation between Apples and his shadowy enemy.
Follett said he wrote these books in his 20s to raise some car repair money, and that mostly shows. He became a way better writer coinciding with his fame and success as a bestseller. I think the best thing that could be said about Apples Carstairs #1 is that it was a quick read at 175 big-font pages. I suppose it wasn’t a miserable way to kill a couple hours, but in a world with infinite choices, why bother with mediocrity?
Addendum:
The Apples Carstairs series order is as follows:
1. The Big Needle (aka: the Big Apple), 1974
2. The Big Black, 1974
3. The Big Hit, 1975
Be warned: Books two and three are almost impossible to find. Based on book one’s middling quality, I wouldn’t bother seeking out the other two. Life, after all, is short.
Buy a copy of The Big Needle HERE
Although he authored more than 170 novels during his 40-year career, only a small fraction of Harry Whittington’s books are available today in any format. I’m hoping that one day the Whittington Estate can marry up with an enterprising publisher to keep the author’s back catalog alive through modern reprints and ebooks. They can start with Hell Can Wait, a 1960 paperback that hasn’t seen the light of day in 60 years.
Our narrator is Greg Morris and he has come to the backwoods town of Koons Mills with a score to settle. Over a year ago, Greg’s wife was killed in a car accident caused by the town’s boss, Saul Koons. At a subsequent civil trial, Koons arranged for false testimony to get himself off the hook and convince the court that the accident was Greg’s fault. After spending a year away mourning the loss of his wife, Greg is back in Koons Mills hell-bent on justice and revenge.
Upon arrival, Greg gets his ass kicked by a group of Koons’ employees while the town’s sheriff declines to interfere. It becomes clear that no one has any interest in helping Greg bring down the town’s patriarch and primary employer. If Hell Can Wait had been written by Don Pendleton, Greg would have gotten his satisfaction with a long gun and a sniper scope. But this is a Harry Whittington paperback, so what does he do? He tries to seduce Koons’ saucy young wife.
Hell Can Wait is a slow-burn of a novel but very compelling. It’s more of a mainstream revenge story than a normal crime fiction paperback. Well, the ending was pure noir, but I won’t spoil it here. Greg is a menacing and rather creepy character for a protagonist, and Koons is a very nuanced villain whose behavior is a bit odd throughout the book - until the twisty ending explains all. At no point did I really know where the plot was headed, which is saying a lot in a genre that usually abides by fairly rigid formulas.
Overall, I can recommend Hell Can Wait as a fun puzzle-box of a vintage paperback. It’s not quite top-tier Harry Whittington, but it will certainly be on your mind long after the last of the 144 pages are done.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
John Creasey (1908-1973) authored hundreds of crime novels over a literary career that deployed nearly 30 pseudonyms. One of the British author's earliest works was The Baron series (as Anthony Morton, 1937-1979) of novels starring an ex-jewel thief named John Mannering. Perhaps his most popular series is The Toff (1938-1978), an aristocratic sleuth with a literary resemblance to The Saint. I discovered a 1968 paperback titled Gideon's River on my bookshelf. The author was listed as J.J. Marric, but after brief research I learned that this was part of another series of novels authored by Creasey. The series stars Commander George Gideon of the Scotland Yard's Criminal Investigation Department. Gideon's River is the 14th installment and was published in 1968 by Popular Library.
The novel features Gideon working with various law enforcement agencies along the Thames River to solve a diamond heist. But, in what appears to be a series consistency, the author presents a number of crimes for Gideon's team to investigate. This is unlike other crime-fiction novels where one crime or mystery is the narrative's focus. In Creasey's series, Gideon must solve two to three mysteries per book. Along with the diamond heist, this installment features Gideon searching for a missing girl while also preparing his department for a planned robbery aboard a large pleasure boat called River Belle.
In the book's opening pages, the Thames Division of the Metropolitan Police locate a satchel underwater containing a number of industrial diamonds. Gideon assigns Detective Micklewright onto the case which eventually leads to a group of smugglers led by a brutal and sadistic criminal named Screw Smith. With agency resources, the diamond smuggling is traced back to Denmark but leaves Gideon and his department in a heated political exchange with the Dutch Police.
Gideon's own investigation surfaces when a 13-yr old girl goes missing after school. Creasey's narrative focuses on the procedural investigation but also allows readers the girl's perspective as prisoner of a strange man living in a rock quarry. It was this portion of the narrative that produced the best results as Gideon, a father of six surviving children, maintains a close, more emotional bond with the case.
Rounding out the trio of investigations is more of a preparation for a high-profile jewelry and fur show aboard a large riverboat. Gideon's defensive measures are in advance of a planned robbery. This theft circles around to the diamond heist in Denmark, but I won't provide any spoilers on that. Gideon's team collaborates with a number of law enforcement agencies that work the lengthy, fast-churning river.
This series began in 1955 and consisted of 21 novels through 1976. After Creasey's death, four more novels were authored by William Vivian Butler as J.J. Marric. One of the more interesting aspects of the series is that the characters age as the series continues. For example, the series debut, Gideon's Day, features Gideon as a Detective Superintendent. As the series continues, Gideon is promoted to Commander. Further, his six children age through the series and eventually become married and move out. Gideon's second-in-command, Lemaitre, serves for many years but eventually he's transferred out of the department and a character named Hobbs takes the role. In this novel, an event is mentioned from an earlier installment where Hobbs' wife dies. Gideon's River also features more emphasis on Detective Micklewright and his troubles with alcohol and a failing marriage. I could sense that this story also began in earlier novels.
Creasey's prose is like watching a good television episode of your favorite cop series. It's mostly surface level interactions, witness reports and the endless struggles between the media and the law enforcement agencies. It is similar to Ed McBain's (real name: Evan Hunter) 87th Precinct series but not as well written. Considering Creasey's massive production schedule (supposedly over 600 novels), his quality probably varies depending on series and installment. Overall, I was very pleased with Gideon's River and will certainly pursue more of the author's work.
Buy a copy of this book HERE
