Books: Deadly Edge By Richard Stark (1971)

 

“The concert box office heist had been perfectly planned and executed; Parker had handled it neat and clean. He had money for a while now; he could take some time off, join Claire in the country, plan another job at his leisure. But then the phone calls came. One by one, Parker’s associates on the heist were being brutally murdered. Parker was clearly next on the list, but he had no intention of waiting on his executioners. If they thought so, they were in for a rude surprise.”

Deadly Edge is the thirteenth Parker novel and first one of Stark’s books I’ve read in nearly seven months. Historically, this is also the first Parker book released as a hardcover (as Westlake moved to Simon & Schuster) and the first one released in 1970s. While one the longest books yet, the tale grabs you and never lets up until the end. But it’s a bit of slog to the first half due to some choices Westlake does here.

He sort of restructures the formula, even though the layout of Four Parts is maintained. Part One, which is usually the most detailed part of any heist, is jettisoned for one that is already set up and playing out. It’s basically one long prologue, sitting at almost fifty pages (another change to the modus operandi, when typically there are short, multiple chapters). I’ve also wrote about how Westlake is seemly taking the edge off Parker, in particular with some of his mistakes he’s made with fellow crooks and his relationship with Claire over the last four books. As with Westlake’s Dortmunder tales, you got a sense that Parker is an anachronistic character seemly living in a bubble universe where the 1930s never came to end (1970s for John Dortmunder). It would seem for the next four books, Westlake would begin acknowledging the rapid changes the 70s would unleash. Part of that starts here with Parker realizing that electronic transfer of money is becoming more ubiquitous and finding large scores of cash as described here is becoming more and more difficult. There is also a dig at modern music, as Westlake uses some of the dudes involved in the heist (not Parker, of course, as he could careless) to make some social commentary on how rock and roll was dominating musical force now and where Jazz (music beloved by Westlake) was fading away into obscurity.

All of this is interesting, but somewhat pointless to the heist. The rest of the of the book, while following the Four Part pattern, focuses on Claire and her attempt at bring a little real-life to Parker’s world. She buys a house on a lake generally used as summer homes from people who live in New York and New Jersey; it’s isolated and cut-off from a lot of world. But Parker realizes he’s being hunted by two men (who seem to have Of Mice and Men relationship –except Manny is an LSD addicted psychopath (another new and modern wrinkle) and sets out to find them before they find him -and Claire.

I like Claire, but Parker’s relationship with her is weird for such a series which relies on stealth and hiding out. I’m not sure a domesticated Parker is such a great idea. That being said, Parker may be a man out of time, but the rest of the outside world moves on.

Most of Part Two we learn the gist of what happened at the end of Part One: Parker rubbed up against a local mob outfit that did not like him having fun in their territory -but in the end, nothing really comes this. Part Three is where Claire tries to give Parker a more stable base of operation, and while there is a great tense set piece around a kitchen table involving Claire and some bad guys, a lot of this part seems like padding. It’s been well established that one of the conditions of Parker (and Dortmunder) coming out in hardcover, is Westlake having to write longer books. This padding bleeds over into Part Four, where an overly cautious Parker does not do away with these two mob guys in his usual expeditious ways.

It’s not a total misfire, but it lacks something that ranks it amongst the best.

Books: The Album of Dr. Moreau By Daryl Gregory (2021)

It’s 2001, and the WyldBoyZ are the world’s hottest boy band, and definitely the world’s only genetically engineered human-animal hybrid vocal group. When their producer, Dr. M, is found murdered in his hotel room, the “boyz” become the prime suspects. Was it Bobby the ocelot (“the cute one”), Matt the megabat (“the funny one”), Tim the Pangolin (“the shy one”), Devin the bonobo (“the romantic one”), or Tusk the elephant (“the smart one”)? Las Vegas Detective Luce Delgado has only twenty-four hours to solve a case that goes all the way back to the secret science barge where the WyldBoyZ’ journey first began—a place they used to call home. 

So Daryl Gregory is combining the science fiction premise of the famous novel by H. G. Wells with the panache of a classic locked-room murder mystery and the spectacle of a beloved boy band in, The Album of Dr. Moreau.  As a recent fan of his weird and original ideas, this novella works mostly towards the end. While he’s poking fun at boy bands, some twenty years after their zenith I might add, and used (as mentioned in the “Apologies” section at the end) his own grown children to help him out, the first half does go on a bit longer than it should. The books humor was, surprisingly tempered here (the puns were sometimes funny, though) and even the social commentary on the original novel and the questions of what makes someone human when they are genetically spliced together is hinted at, but never fully realized.

It’s fun though, a bit bizarre and premise cannot be taken too seriously. But even a small style book like this is worth the trip into the mind of Daryl Gregory. 

Books: In the Blood By Margaret Kirk (2021)

 

Once again, I mention I happen to know the brother of writer Margaret Kirk.

“Tied to a derelict pier on Orkney, are the bloated remains of a man, just bobbing in the waves, all under the watchful shadow of the forbidding Sandisquoy House. The locals know him as William Spencer. But DCI Lukas Mahler identifies him as Alex Fleming – his former boss. Unable to step away from the case, Mahler tries to piece together why Fleming would retire to such a remote location. But the deeper he digs, the more disturbing the investigation becomes. Seal bones, witches’ salve, and runic symbols appear everywhere he looks, ushering Mahler towards Fleming’s most notorious unsolved case: the ‘Witchfinder’ murders. And towards a dark and uncomfortable truth someone has gone to great lengths to bury.”

In the Blood by Scottish author Margaret Kirk shows a lot growth. While her two other murder mysteries featuring DCI Lukas Mahler, Shadow Man and What Lies Buried, reads like a master writer in full control of her talents, this one takes it bit further. The book opens with the grisly (almost Stephen King in nature) scene with a dead man floating in the North Sea for some time. I’ve read many times that bodies found in water are generally the most gruesome to look at.

While I was once a huge fan of this genre in youth, I wandered away because a lot of what I was reading was to paint-by-numbers, with the killers revealing themselves because they made idiotic, basic mistakes. And that the cop, forensic specialist, the little old lady in the village, or some kids, always found out whodunit in less than believable way.

But what I like about this series is all (well, most) of her characters are three dimensional. Lukas Mahler is convincing leader; he’s tough, enigmatic, a man with darkness and light. Kirk delves a bit more into Mahler’s back-story, his guilt over what happened with his mother and father when he was a teenager (we’re bound to run into Daddy sometime in the future). I enjoyed this bit, because the first two books only hinted at the violence in his past. This also ties neatly into Mahler’s time at the MET and his hero-worships of Alex Fleming. It also gives a better understanding of why he suffers from migraines. Yes, his job has him under pressure (though this “episode” has his boss, June Wallace, out on medical leave and replaced by Chae Hunt, your handsome TV cliché Chief Inspector who worries more about budgets and how he’ll look on TV), but it's the guilt that seemly is all his causes. And like like a typical male, instead of seeking counseling, he let's it fester.

The rest of the regulars, especially Fergie and Naz are given more to do and I appreciate the long-running joke about Fergie’s Audi. Even Andy Black is more tolerable.

The book also focuses on legends of Scotland, especially in Orkney and Sandisquoy House (which is probably fictional, but based on something real). It tries to tip a bit into the supernatural, but never fully jumps in, but gets close with the folklore of Celtic and Norse mythology of the selkie, or seal folk, which revolves “around female selkies [seals] being coerced into relationships with humans by someone stealing and hiding their seal skin, thus exhibiting the tale motif of the swan maiden type.” 

However, I’m unsure of the epilogue, which has a previous bad guy broken out of jail (just like Bellatrix Lestrange from Harry Potter) and who’ll probably menace both Mahler and Anna in the next book, and the mysterious Mr. Hollander, a wannabe James Bond villain in the making. I can see why this added, as the book ended quietly, which may had given readers the impression the series was over (despite there still being a few loose ends hanging around), but it seems, I guess, out of place? It’s certainly not the typical ending you see in this genre, but maybe Kirk is just upping things a bit?