The Ballad of 223, by Preston Lang

"The Ballad of 223," by Preston Lang, in Under the Thumb: Stories of Police Oppression, edited by S.A. Cosby, Rock and a Hard Place Press, 2021. 

This is the second story by Lang to appear in this column.

It may be worth noting that my favorite story in this book is one of the few with a White protagonist.  It is also one of the more -- I won't say optimistic, but less pessimistic.

Which may be considered as evidence that it would be helpful to have more people with varied backgrounds reviewing short stories.  If anyone wants to get into the rewarding (well, only intellectually) business of writing a column like this, let me know.

Okay, on to the business at hand.

Alan makes his living play the lute at renaissance festivals.  While hitchhiking to one on a highway he is stopped by state police officers who are baffled by the instrument, the man, and his costume.  "Dancing around in tights and slippers?"

Things go badly sideways and Alan winds up in prison.  But he has a plan on how to get out. It's a longshot, but any shot might be worth taking...

An intriguing tale.

One Tossed Match, by Joseph S. Walker

 "One Tossed Match," by Joseph S. Walker, in Cemetery Plots of Northern California, Capitol Crimes, 2021.

This is the fourth appearance in this space by Walker, his third with a 2021 publication.  That's unusual.

Also unusual is that this anthology appears to have come into existence without an editor.  Amazing when that happens.

Abe, the narrator, is an ex-con, now working as a bartender.  One day Russ Leopold shows up.

Forty years ago, in 1976, Russ and Gabe Booth and  I were in a crew, and I don't mean we rowed for Stanford. 

The crew committed armed robberies.  Gabe was the planner.  It went well until it didn't. After a botched diamond robbery Russ and Abe got lighter sentences by testifying against Gabe.

Now Russ has learned that Gabe is dead.  No one ever found the millions of dollars worth of diamonds that they stole.  Would Abe like to go to Gabe's little home in the country for a look-see?

This is a story that would fit comfortably in Ellery Queen's Black Mask department.  Don't go hunting for happy endings.

Book Drop, by Susan A. Bresniker

 

"Book Drop," by Susan A. Bresniker, in The Fish That Got Away, edited by Linda M. Rodriquez, Wildside Press, 2021.

I admit to bias on this one.  In fact I am doubly prejudiced.

First, it's about librarians, which is the occupation I pursued for more than forty years.  This is a double-edged sword, of course: If the writer doesn't know the library biz I get turned off immediately.  But Bresniker, being one of the gang herself, doesn't fall into that trap.

The second reason for my prejudice is more complicated.  See if you can figure it out.

The narrator is Arlie, who works at a public library.  Her colleague is Sal.  The director, their boss, is an obese and brilliant woman named Nora.

Many of you have figured it out by now.  Let me add that Nora is somehow wealthy enough to have a chef named Mitzie...

This is a clever homage to one of my favorite mystery writers.  Hence my biased enjoyment.

I will say that my suspension of disbelief had a hard time coping with Nora's wealth.  I have only known two millionaire librarians.  One inherited money.  The other founded a publishing house and sold it to a big company.  Both promptly left the biz.

But that didn't keep me from enjoying the strange of someone "stealing books for a library."

Catch and Release, by Mark Thielman

"Catch and Release," by Mark Thielman, in The Fish That Got Away, edited by Linda M. Rodriquez, Wildside Press, 2021.

This is the seventh appearance in this column by my fellow SleuthSayer.

I let a murderer go today.

That's how the tale begins. You might feel that the prosecutor is being a little hard on himself, because he did try his best to get Thomas Edmonds convicted.  (Didn't he?)

He walks you through the trial, through every maddening moment that caused his case to slip away.  And through it all Edmonds sits there, as unconcerned as a bystander at a church picnic.  No wonder the narrator is so upset.  But then unexpected things happen.

You could argue that this story is a stunt. Ah, but it is a satisfying stunt.

Born a Ramblin' Man, by Michel Lee Garrett

"Born a Ramblin' Man," by Michel Lee Garrett, in Trouble No More: Crime Fiction Inspired by Southern Rock and the Blues, edited by Mark Westmoreland, Down & Out Books 2021.  

This is a pretty silly story.  Not that there is anything wrong with that.

Ray is the ramblin' man.  He decides to leave Nashville with only one possession: a guitar he recently "liberated."  It's not a particularly wonderful guitar; he just wanted one.

His plan for leaving town is to sneak into the back of a truck full of fireworks.  Might work okay, except that there is already some contraband cargo in the vehicle: two women who do not want to be headed wherever the driver is taking them.

Luckily they have a rescuer on board.  Unluckily, the hero is Ray, and Ray, well...

"How goddamn dumb are you?"

"Um... fairly."

The fun part of the story is the conversation between Ray and the two prisoners.  And the fireworks, both literal and figurative.

The Search for Eric Garcia, by E.A. Aymar

 "The Search for Eric Garcia," by E.A. Aymar, in Midnight Hour, a Chilling Anthology of Crime Fiction From 20 Authors of Color, edited by Abby L. Vandiver, Crooked Lane Books, 2021

I  am not a big fan of stories told in the second person, as I have mentioned the, um, four other times one of them has made it onto this page.  But Aymar makes this one work very well.

You're sitting at the bar, thinking about choices.

The protagonist's life is going down the tubes.  His daughter died in an accident that he feels responsible for, although the authorities disagreed.  

His wife is living with Eric Garcia, who owns the store where our hero works.  Eric is everything he is not: a confident, successful man.  And our protagonist feels that the world isn't big enough to hold both of them.

This is a very clever story, one where the telling is as essential as the plot.  I do think it has some rough edges.  If I were the editor I would have asked Aymar to polish a few of them harder.  But this is a terrific piece of work.

Temptation is a Gun, by James D.F. Hannah

 

"Temptation is a Gun," by James D.F. Hannah, in Trouble No More: Crime Fiction Inspired by Southern Rock and the Blues, edited by Mark Westmoreland, Down & Out Books 2021. 

The evening after he gets out of prison after 22 years, Roy returns to the dingy tavern where his life went off the rails.

If you are now thinking: "Hmm.  Sounds like noir," then congratulations.  You have just aced your quiz in Subgenre Recognition 101. 

The story slips between Roy's present visit to Murphy's Tavern and his first fateful encounter there at age 16.  Turns out that back then he met Murphy's much-abused wife.  And you know what happens when a noir protagonist meets an attractive woman.

Classic noir with some clever twists.  

Two Birds, One Todd, by Karen Harrington

 

"Two Birds, One Todd," by Karen Harrington, in Shotgun Honey.

This is the second appearance by Harrington in my column this year.

I think five or six flash stories have made it to my best-of-the-week list.  This story could probably have been expanded to three or four times its current length, but it wouldn't have made it a better story.  All the details you need are here.

Todd comes to clean the pool just as Ava is backing out of her driveway.  There is a fatal collision.

Such a tragedy.  Imagine how devastated Todd's widow must be.  She's the one at the funeral with big dark glasses to cover the last time he slapped her...

I did not see where this clever tale was headed.

Hit and Run, by Doug Allyn

"Hit and Run," by Doug Allyn, in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, November/December 2021.

This is the fifth appearance here by Allyn. It is also the second week in a row that I chose a short story by authors known for much longer tales.

Imagine you are stuck in traffic on your way to an important, even life-and-death meeting.  Not good.

Now imagine you get rear-ended by a woman who is not paying attention.  Even worse.

But the frosting on the cake is that the accident makes your trunk fly open, revealing the bag of cocaine you are bringing to the meeting...

What follows is more twists and turns per page than any story I can remember in years.  Quite a ride. 

Killers, by Brendan DuBois

"Killers, A Story of Love in Four Acts," by Brendan DuBois, in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery magazine, November/December 2020.

This is the ninth appearance in this space by DuBois, tying him with Michael Bracken.  Other than high quality, it doesn't have much in common with his other stories here, which tended to be long tales of good guys overcoming bad guys. "Killers," on the other hand, is a short and quirky tale about somewhat eccentric baddies.

Palmer and York are ex-cops, turned to a more profitable career as hitmen.  They are sitting in a car one night, waiting for a couple who they have been assigned to attend to.  Alas, the targets are late and the old friends run out of things to talk about.  And so, to keep awake, Palmer says: "Tell me the most romantic thing you've ever done."

Well.  That's a surprising turn.  What follows are a couple of revealing anecdotes from the killers' past.  And in the last scene we see how they are affected by these memories.

I thought I knew where this charming story was headed.  DuBois fooled me completely.