Sanity Clause – Steve Brewer

© 2004, Smashwords (edition) (NOOK)

What’s better than a good mystery at Christmas? Or at least second to a good, tear-filled syrupy, get right with the Christmas Spirit holiday tale? Not much. And if you’re going to read a good mystery for Christmas, it’s nice to have a well-established serial writer with a great, stumbling upon the answers private eye waiting in the wings. I started reading Steve Brewer’s Bubba Mabry series almost from the very beginning—I did start with the first of the stories—you know, before Bubba was married (which he is in this story). Aside from the Mabry series (including Lonely Street, Baby Face, and Witchy Woman among others), Brewer has introduced us to Drew Gavin (EndRun and Cheap Shot).

When this story appeared a few years ago in a paperback anthology entitled The Last Noel (2004 Worldwide Mysteries, also includes stories by Catherine Dain, Linda Berry, and Mat Coward), I missed the season. Then the book disappeared from almost anywhere. So when I found I could download it to my NOOK eReader for cheap, I snatched it up. ‘Tis the season for savings after all.

Bubba Mabry, Scrooge-like Christmas hater, is in need of work. So when an undercover job is thrown his way, he naturally takes it and complains about having to watch all the Santas at the local mall, to keep them from doing anything to cast a dark cloud over the mall’s Santa’s Workshop during the festive season. How was he to know that the best of the Santas would turn up murdered in the locker room just at shift change?

This delightful little mystery is filled with Christmas references—including suspects with suspiciously Christmassy names like George (think Bailey and It’s a Wonderful Life) Marley (think Dickens’ timeless A Christmas Carol), and . . . wait for it . . . Carol Tannenbaum (the dead Santa’s sister no less). This little novella moves right along and is filled with great characters, action (car chases, fist fights, and even a moving train scene)—all the things that make a good mystery a, well, good mystery. It’s available for your eReader (Nook, Kindle) or collected in the aforementioned anthology if you can find a copy. Get it, you still have time to read this page-turner before Christmas.

I give Steve Brewer, Bubba Mabry, and Sanity Clause four and one-half reading glasses, and a hearty ‘HO-HO-HO’!

 

—Benjamin Potter, December 13, 2011

High Midnight – Stuart Kaminsky

©1981 St. Martin’s, New York

The great American film professor, Stuart Kaminsky (1934-2009), introduced readers to Toby Peters in his debut novel Bullet for a Star in 1977. High Midnight is the sixth outing for the Hollywood private investigator who reminds us of many of the hard-boiled detectives of earlier eras. (Personal note: it’s only my fifth Peters reading—anybody wants to send me an elusive copy of Never Cross a Vampire, I’d be glad to read it.)

Peters himself is an icon from days gone by, practicing his stock and trade in the 1940s. This time, he finds himself wrangled into a case working for none other than Gary Cooper. He’s roped into this one because the dentist from whom he sublets his office (“Sheldon P. Minck D.D.S., S.D./ ‘Dentist and Oral Surgeon’”) poses as Toby in order to meet some of the famous people that he is in the habit of working for. Someone is trying, so it seems, to force Cooper to make a B movie with a handful of B actors, a B director, but a pretty fair script.

Throw in a semi-retired Chicago mob boss, three dead bodies, and a hunting party with none other than Ernest ‘Papa’ Hemingway, and you have the makings for a first-rate mystery story. And, as you might have guessed, Kaminsky through the voice of Peters, delivers. In his methodical fashion, our hero works out the whys and wherefores of the murders, the attempted blackmail, and the (almost) identity theft a couple of steps ahead of the police. Just enough to keep himself from being indicted for the murders!

There are several things to enjoy about a good Toby Peters Mystery: fast pacing, historical references from news and newsreels, and super cameo appearances to compliment the staring roles of some of the greats in the heyday of the silver screen. From Hollywood vernacular, I give High Midnight a hearty thumbs up. For constant readers of these reviews, I attribute five out of five reading glasses.

—Benjamin Potter, March 21, 2011

The Black Moon – Robert J. Randisi and Ruth Ashby, eds.

©1989 Lynx Books, New York

Sometimes you run across a book that defies classification. Is it a novel? Is it a short story collection? In this respect we’re in a quandary about The Black Moon. On the other hand, this collective novel is definitely a Private I. work of fiction. Drawing from the expertise of five excellent P.I. writers, the story that is woven has lots to offer.

The premise is that there is a collective work of art—five paintings that are actually one work of art. The “Ladies in the Cathedral” collection is stolen from a post-WWII Italian museum that was guarded by three US soldiers. During the course of the crime, one of the Americans is killed, and the thieves get away with the paintings. Forty years later, the paintings are resurfacing in five different US cities.

Enter five writers with five different private investigators. Most are ex-cops. Two are the surviving guards from the Italian museum.

In this collection/novel you’ll find five different approaches to the P.I. novel. Robert Randisi expertly introduces and resolves the mystery telling the story through the voice of Salvatore Carlucci. Carlucci enlists the help of his old co-guard Ralph Parnell (written with the humor and flair of P.I. great Ed Gorman), Miami investigator Tony Mack (penned by W. R. Philbrick), Laura Bailey—the daughter of his respected and recently deceased friend, Jim Bailey—Dallas investigator who is brought to life by L. J. Washburn, and Iron Harbor (Michigan) police chief/part-time private investigator Riley Cooper (who comes to life via the pen of veteran PI writer Loren D. Estleman) to find the paintings so that they can be returned to the Italian government.

Philbrick is the only one of the authors that I had been (prior to this reading) unfamiliar with, but I discovered that he showed himself adept at telling a good mystery. I must admit that I was most disappointed with the segment by one of my favorite authors, L. J. Washburn. It was her name on the cover that drew my attention to the collection. Even with the disjointed portion by Washburn (she needed more pages to develop the story, it seemed), the overall outcome was a surprisingly enjoyable encounter. Even though each author chose a different style (from hardboiled, to edgy modern) with their respective private eyes, the story flowed.

This is not the first (nor the last) attempt at the collective mystery, but it is an excellent foray into team project writing. Well worth your while if you can find it on a used bookstore shelf.

Three and one-half stars.

—Benjamin Potter, May 6, 2009

Marked for Murder – Brett Halliday

©1945 Dell, New York

As a mystery reader there are a few standards that I like to get to from time to time. Hammett is a must; Chandler is excellent to read occasionally; it’s nice to enjoy Poirot or Miss Marple once in awhile. So there are some standards I like to pick up when I can find them. I don’t always like them, though I know I ought to try them. I’ll admit that I’ve never made it through one case with Perry Mason, though I’ve tried two or three. But until 2008 I hadn’t had the opportunity for several great detective stories. As readers will recall, toward the end of 2008 I finally took the opportunity to join the 87^th Precinct in a case or two and look forward to more book fairs to find more of those good cases. Also, as the year drew to a close and I was looking for a good relaxing mystery, I discovered my first Mike Shayne story in a stack of book fair finds. Halliday’s Shayne has been one of those characters, like Hammett’s Nick Charles or Sam Spade that everyone should at least try out if you want to read mysteries.

What with the holiday bustle and the endless travel that accompanies it, I took a bit longer to read Marked for Murder than I would have desired, but here’s what I found:

Mike Shayne is all he’s cracked up to be. He’s a quick thinker, a man’s man (not to mention a ladies’ man). He solves the case with dogged persistence that is sometimes lacking in the police. In this case, his best friend, Tim Rourke, is stirring up a Miami Beach hornet’s nest as he reports a series of murders that seems to be connected to the burgeoning gambling racket on the Beach. Each of three victims has been seduced away from winning tables by a gorgeous blond, and subsequently found dead minus the winnings and with .32 bullets managing the murder at close range.

For all the trouble he’s causing with his stories, Rourke is found shot in his apartment. It doesn’t hurt that a number of blonds have been seen visiting, or that he is known to have an affinity for blonds. At the news of his buddy’s misfortune, Shayne hops the first train from New Orleans to work with his friends at the Miami Police Department to the chagrin of the Miami Beach Police Chief. Amid the incompetence (or lack of initiative) of the police, Shayne investigates by following leads that the Chief Painter wants to ignore. . . and finds the killer in the sea of blonds.

Lovers of mystery stories will like this one. I know I did. The dated language and setting are easy to overlook because the characters and the plot itself are so enjoyable. Halliday doesn’t waste time with intricate plot twists, but instead lets us watch while his private detective methodically tries every piece of the puzzle until it fits.

Brett Halliday, Mike Shayne, and Marked for Murder, get three and one-half stars for a fun story. I’m looking forward to more outings with this master detective.

—Benjamin Potter, January 6, 2009

The Love Song of J. Edgar Hoover – Kinky Friedman

©1996 Simon & Schuster, New York

[Before moving on with the review, I ought to explain that I haven’t really jumped off the deep end on a Friedman kick, I just have several of his stories (as well as other magnificent authors) on my TBR shelf. I picked up J. Edgar Hoover before remembering that I hadn’t read John Wayne yet, so I had to do a pick up and come back to this one.]

Every private investigator—live or fictional, professional or amateur (male that is)—has the dream of a leggy blond bombshell with pouty lips walking into their life with a desperate case that must be solved. Perhaps we have Sam Spade to thank for that. In his ninth appearance as himself in fiction, Kinky Friedman meets just such a client. Polly Price is worried about her missing husband Derrick, and on the advice of a friend in Washington, she shows up on the Kinkster’s doorstep in New York with a healthy retainer and a sad story.

Throwing a wrench into the works and keeping Kinky away from the missing person case is the fact that his long-time friend Mike McGovern has decided to go nuts by seeing his long-dead acquaintance and mentor, Leaning Jesus, who just happened to be the chef for Al Capone in the gangster’s heyday.

The story moves rather quickly and the writing is classic Friedman—brassy with an irreverent political incorrectness that most standup comics would envy. The pages are filled with innuendo and suggestive puns that are characteristic of the writer, but what else would you expect from a man named Kinky?

Not to spoil the ending, I won’t tell it here, but readers will be slightly disappointed in the lackluster resolution of this outing for the Kinkster. Notably missing from this volume are members of the Village Irregulars who often help with the solving of the mysteries. To make up for the missing group sessions, We get to see Kinky spend more time talking with the cat, whining about Ratso—his usual “Watson” and the subject of the last book, and finally an extended appearance from Rambam, the professional p.i. who advises Kinky from time to time.

Once again, Friedman offers a nice get-away book, although this one will have somewhat leaner appeal than previous offerings. I give The Love Song of J. Edgar Hoover three and one-half out of five reading glasses.

—Benjamin Potter, October 3, 2008

God Bless John Wayne – Kinky Friedman

©1995, Simon & Schuster, New York

Now, I’ve read Kinky’s work. As a matter of fact, this is the eighth of his novels starring fictional versions of himself and his friends solving mysterious cases. I intend to read more (have several on the TBR shelf). I think that when I reach the last of his novels, I’ll be semi-sad that he chose to retire from writing PI novels recently. Yes, this is the same guy who spent several years traveling with the “Texas Jewboys” on the country-western scene. It’s also the one who stirred up Texas politics in the last gubernatorial election by throwing his black cowboy hat into the ring.

What I like about Friedman’s writing is that he doesn’t take himself—or anything much—too seriously. He weaves a readable tale that is fun and easy to read.

In God Bless John Wayne, the Kinkster finds himself in New York (where the lion’s share of his stories are set), and gets sucked into helping his friend Ratso (the New York Ratso, not the Washington one) find his birth mother. What he finds is a string of dead people—some long dead (like the lawyer who brokered the adoption in the first place), some known to be dead (like Ratso’s adoptive father), some accidentally dead (like the friend in Ratso’s apartment), and some intentionally dead (like the son of the lawyer—another lawyer with the peculiar name of Hamburger).

Kinky enlists the help of several of the Village irregulars who have been helpful in solving previous cases, as well as a couple of new faces, to track down the long lost mother. One problem that he faces is that his very own ‘Watson’ is now his client as well as missing one day and turning up in a bad place the next.

Kinky uses page after page of pun and innuendo to keep his readers involved in the story line. That will turn many potential readers away, but will appeal to a vast number of mystery fans and lovers of a dry wit. God Bless John Wayne is a fun walk on the cold streets of New York in the winter (with a quick jaunt to Florida for relief). I give it four out of five reading glasses.

—Benjamin Potter, September 17, 2008

Friday’s Forgotten Book Club (Wild Night -- L. J. Washburn)

Occasionally, on Fridays I will be participating in Patti Abbott’s brainchild—reviewing forgotten books. The idea is that there are books that are really good, but they don’t get as much readership because people have “forgotten” about them. Today I’ll be discussing Wild Night by L. J. Washburn (© 1987 published by TOR books).

I discovered Washburn in a used bookstore offering of Epitaph, her first western novel, published by M. Evans. I found the writing easy to follow and engaging. The flyleaf listed Wild Night as her first novel, and winner of the American Mystery Award and The Private Eye Writers of America's Best Original Paperback Award. I found a used copy of the PBO and read it.

Wild Night is technically classified as a Mystery—a P.I. story in particular—but bears a great resemblance to the genre Western. The hero, Lucas Hallam, is an old used up cowboy who had to turn into a private eye as the world changed around him. His experience as a Pinkerton and Texas Ranger come in handy as he moves to Hollywood to get work as an extra in early Western movies, and finds himself hired to solve mysteries in Tinsel Town.

This is probably the best of the Hallam books although Washburn is a great writer for diversion whether reading her mysteries, westerns, or (and I’ll just have to guess on this one) her romance novels.

Four and one-half reading glasses for this novel that’s too good to forget. Pick up a copy of the pbo if you can find it, or choose the perfect-for-library-shelves re-release in hardcover from Five Star (1998).

—Benjamin Potter, April 25, 2008

All the Dead Fathers – David J. Walker

© 2005, St. Martin’s Minotaur, New York

Occasionally there’s an author that makes you say, “Hey, this guy’s good. Why haven’t more people been reading his work?” They have a style that is readable and engaging without being overly pushy with their story. One such unassuming writer is David J. Walker. This isn’t to say that Walker’s not been noticed. His first Mal Foley novel, Fixed in His Folly, was nominated for the coveted Edgar award. Even so, it seems not enough people are talking about this talented ex-priest, ex-investigator, ex-lawyer (if you can ex- out of any of those careers to be a writer). Even I haven’t given any time to him here. Well, now that’s about to end.

Kirsten is an ex-cop turned private eye who loves her lawyer husband. She is the owner/operator of the Wild Onion, Ltd. private investigation firm of Chicago. Her latest case is one brought to her by her uncle, the priest. Fathers who have been listed in the paper as being accused (if not convicted) of child molestation are being brutally murdered one by one. Michael, the uncle, is on the list and that brings a lot of back-story baggage to the novel. Walker makes it work.

Kirsten hires on to provide “protection” for those left on the list (especially those who are appealing their cases to Rome and living for the duration at the Villa St. George monastery). Interspersed with chapters that focus on the killer who has a history of their own that includes priests and Kirsten, Walker weaves a story that hooks you and makes you want to read—on into the night.

All the Dead Fathers is not your run-of-the-mill, weepy-eyed, politically correct whodunit. Nor is it your normal offering of the hardboiled variety. Here you will find all the grit and gnarled justice of a hardboiled detective story mixed with the emotion of a high-powered mystery novel. No major twists and turns, just good reading. Those who are offended by hard language will be offended, but the language is not a distraction to the story itself. It’s time to give David J. Walker his due, and I give All the Dead Fathers five full sets of reading glasses.

—Benjamin Potter, December 7, 2007

Update! Guardian of Light -- Steven Hunt

Here is the cover for Guardian of Light. Read the review here. And look for it in stores or online July 16.

Lonely Street – Steve Brewer

Steve Brewer has become one of the lights that shine in the midnight sky of genre mystery writers. A long-time journalist and columnist for the Albuquerque Journal, Brewer is no slouch when it comes to the written word. When he decided to turn his pen to mystery writing the first result was Wilton “Bubba” Mabry, private investigator. Lonely Street is his debut.

It’s no coincidence that Bubba’s first appearance is in a book whose title reminds us of Elvis. The King plays a strong role in the case Bubba is engaged in. His openness to work any case if the money is right—and any money is right, coupled with his family background of kooks makes him the prime target for the likes of Buddy and “Mr. Aaron” who leave Bubba holding the bag with Elvis as his alibi.

This is the best of the Mabry stories that I’ve read to date. It’s a great debut novel, and a good precursor to the Drew Gavin mysteries that appeared a few years later. Brewer’s stories are usually fast-paced, and the characters are fun and loveable. This pbo eventually led to a hardcover career for Brewer. If you read it you’ll know why.

—Benjamin Potter, April 8, 2007

Guardian of Light -- Steven Hunt

Several months ago, I was honored by debut author, Steven Hunt, with a request to read and review his first novel scheduled for release sometime this spring. You will want to keep an eye out for this book. Please note that the review was written in November, but I've been saving it back for release closer to the release of the book. I'll add a cover shot when it becomes available.

Coming soon from Tate Publishing in trade paperback and audio book: Guardian of Light by Steven Hunt. Watch your bookstore for this new writer’s first book. Steven Hunt has included two characteristics that endear a book to me: his novel is fast-paced and readable. If you are looking for a story that grabs your attention and holds it, or if you want to read a story that has all the action and none of the trash found in most novels today, Guardian of Light is just the ticket for you.

With Guardian of Light, Hunt seems to have developed a new genre: Sam Spade meets Jesus Christ. Theodore “Chas” Chasowski has all the earmarks of a hardboiled detective. He tries not to show emotion, but it barrels through anyway. During the course of the day, Chas is approached by a wealthy, ambitious couple with a case that leads the P.I. from state to state interviewing people who’ve been saved by an angel. His investigation turns up several encounters from both sides of the spiritual realm—good and evil. At the core of the search, Chas finds faith, and an unlikely group of the faithful who help him in his battle to save his associate and overcome evil.

Another new thing that you will find in Hunt’s writing is the no-compromise message of the gospel. There is no awkward attempt at throwing in the gospel just to appease the Christian publishers. Nor is the Christian flavor a backdrop that is easily missed. While there are occasions that the writing definitely shows signs of a freshman effort, Hunt’s story is compelling and enjoyable. If you’re looking for a good story that can also be a bridge to witness, bring this book to your book discussion group. The message is plain and the mystery intriguing.

—Benjamin Potter, November 10, 2006