I think the main reason this story made my weekly hit list is the two words a femaie fed makes after shooting someone. Hilarious.
The best mystery story I read this week...
Sunday, February 26, 2012
The Devil to Pay, by David Edgerley Gates
"The Devil to Pay," by David Edgerley Gates, in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, April 2012.
If you like Elmore Leonard's casserole's fo good guys/bad guys plotting against each other, you should enjoy this story. Tommy Meadows, fresh out of jail, is just what the FBI needs to find out what happened to a shipment of guns and ammo intended for the Army. All he has to do is stay alive long enough to outsmart the Russian mob. Good luck with that, Tommy boy.
I think the main reason this story made my weekly hit list is the two words a femaie fed makes after shooting someone. Hilarious.
I think the main reason this story made my weekly hit list is the two words a femaie fed makes after shooting someone. Hilarious.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Wrecked, by Therese Greenwood
"Wrecked" by Therese Greenwood, in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, March/April 2012.
Some stories are about plot. Some are about suspense, or language. This one is all about character.
The narrator is Rosie, who runs a small-town auto wrecker. She's interesting in her own way, with her fatalism about her business and her pride in her nephew the cop who was "the grade-two knock-knock joke champion of St. Paul's school." And there is her mechanic Gary, who can't stop being snotty to that same cop, no matter how ill-advised his attitude is, or how bad his jokes are.
But the star of the show is Floyd the Buddhist, a senior citizen Vietnam vet, who makes his living delivering Vietnamese food and constantly babbles karma-speak. Why is he always scrounging used car parts? "My vehicle strives for rebirth."
When a murdered man is found in the car crushing machinery Rosie will need help from all these characters to catch the bad guy.
Fun story.
The narrator is Rosie, who runs a small-town auto wrecker. She's interesting in her own way, with her fatalism about her business and her pride in her nephew the cop who was "the grade-two knock-knock joke champion of St. Paul's school." And there is her mechanic Gary, who can't stop being snotty to that same cop, no matter how ill-advised his attitude is, or how bad his jokes are.
But the star of the show is Floyd the Buddhist, a senior citizen Vietnam vet, who makes his living delivering Vietnamese food and constantly babbles karma-speak. Why is he always scrounging used car parts? "My vehicle strives for rebirth."
When a murdered man is found in the car crushing machinery Rosie will need help from all these characters to catch the bad guy.
Fun story.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Rolling Rivera, by Steven Torres
"Rolling Rivera," by Steven Torres, in The Precinct Puerto Rico Files. 2012.
I am not the first to notice that detective fiction tends to flourish only in democracies. In fact, I think you could make a case that the popularity of different genres of crime stories gives you a sort of national temperature. When World War I and Prohibition made us cynical about the powers that be, we stopped reading classical mysteries (in which the bad guy was brought to governmental justice) and turned to hard-boiled (in which the law is corrupt and the good guy is on his own). Nowadays we seem to have thrillers (confirmation for the paranoids among us) and noir (nourishment for nihilists).
I was pondering this as I read The Precinct Puerto Rico Files, an e-book that Steven Torres was kind enough to send me. His hero usually solves the crime, but he can't solve the underlying economic social problems that caused the mess, and will cause more. So justice becomes a little, shall we say, ad lib.
I should explain that the hero, Luis Gonzalo, is the sheriff of Angustias (the anguishes) a small mountain town in Puerto Rico. The time is the 1970s.
A good example of my thesis is "Rolling Rivera." Abraham Rivera, an abusive husband and father, lives in a wheelchair because of an earlier drunken folly. He is found dead, run over on a road. The legal question is: was it another booze-soaked accident, or did someone set him up to be killed? And the bigger question is: if the latter, should we prosecute or celebrate?
Another very good story in this book is "The Driver," in which a small mistake builds up, with the inevitability of Greek tragedy, into a pointless disaster. One more thing I really liked about the book was the brief note Torres placed after each story explaining where he got the idea.
I am not the first to notice that detective fiction tends to flourish only in democracies. In fact, I think you could make a case that the popularity of different genres of crime stories gives you a sort of national temperature. When World War I and Prohibition made us cynical about the powers that be, we stopped reading classical mysteries (in which the bad guy was brought to governmental justice) and turned to hard-boiled (in which the law is corrupt and the good guy is on his own). Nowadays we seem to have thrillers (confirmation for the paranoids among us) and noir (nourishment for nihilists).
I was pondering this as I read The Precinct Puerto Rico Files, an e-book that Steven Torres was kind enough to send me. His hero usually solves the crime, but he can't solve the underlying economic social problems that caused the mess, and will cause more. So justice becomes a little, shall we say, ad lib.
I should explain that the hero, Luis Gonzalo, is the sheriff of Angustias (the anguishes) a small mountain town in Puerto Rico. The time is the 1970s.
A good example of my thesis is "Rolling Rivera." Abraham Rivera, an abusive husband and father, lives in a wheelchair because of an earlier drunken folly. He is found dead, run over on a road. The legal question is: was it another booze-soaked accident, or did someone set him up to be killed? And the bigger question is: if the latter, should we prosecute or celebrate?
Another very good story in this book is "The Driver," in which a small mistake builds up, with the inevitability of Greek tragedy, into a pointless disaster. One more thing I really liked about the book was the brief note Torres placed after each story explaining where he got the idea.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Wood-Smoke Boys by Doug Allyn
"Wood-Smoke Boys," by Doug Allyn, in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, March/April 2012.
When I was ten years old, my favorite uncle murdered my favorite aunt.
Thus begins a wonderfully-written story of country folk versus city folk in the north woods of Michigan. Dylan LaCrosse is the narrator and his back woods family suffers some terrible times, but they don't suffer quietly, which leads to the local warning: "Never cross a LaCrosse."
Now Dylan is a cop and state police are coming in to investigate the murder of a state legislator who caused tragedy to the LaCrosse family. Can Dylan stay alive and solve the puzzle? And whose side is he on?
Two more wonderful lines from the story:
In the deep woods, amid the shadows and feral silences, man's place atop the food chain is still up for debate.
The kid's mentally challenged. His rat-bastard brothers use him for a guard dog to save the price of Alpo.
When I was ten years old, my favorite uncle murdered my favorite aunt.
Thus begins a wonderfully-written story of country folk versus city folk in the north woods of Michigan. Dylan LaCrosse is the narrator and his back woods family suffers some terrible times, but they don't suffer quietly, which leads to the local warning: "Never cross a LaCrosse."
Now Dylan is a cop and state police are coming in to investigate the murder of a state legislator who caused tragedy to the LaCrosse family. Can Dylan stay alive and solve the puzzle? And whose side is he on?
Two more wonderful lines from the story:
In the deep woods, amid the shadows and feral silences, man's place atop the food chain is still up for debate.
The kid's mentally challenged. His rat-bastard brothers use him for a guard dog to save the price of Alpo.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Grace, Period by Graham Powell
"Grace, Period," by Graham Powell, in Bad Men.
Graham Powell was kind enough to send me a copy of this e-collection of short stories. As you probably guessed, the protagonists are not quite heroes. Most of them come to bad, if very interesting, ends.
Take Tommy Roccaforte, the main man in our current story. The witness protection program has just dumped him far from his home in Staten Island, supplying with a nothing job in a second-hand bookstore. But -- and here is what I love -- Tommy approaches the business like the wise guy that he is. Who is the competition? And how can we destroy them? So the big box chain bookstore had better watch out. The story is witty, with big hints of Elmore Leonard.
Having said that, I have to register a big complaint: I don't buy the ending at all. Some of the choices made by people around Tommy don't make any sense to me, and one of those characters is just too paper-thin for the role.
You can find a better ending in Powell's "The Leap," in the same collection, but it doesn't have a concept as dazzling as "Grace."
Graham Powell was kind enough to send me a copy of this e-collection of short stories. As you probably guessed, the protagonists are not quite heroes. Most of them come to bad, if very interesting, ends.
Take Tommy Roccaforte, the main man in our current story. The witness protection program has just dumped him far from his home in Staten Island, supplying with a nothing job in a second-hand bookstore. But -- and here is what I love -- Tommy approaches the business like the wise guy that he is. Who is the competition? And how can we destroy them? So the big box chain bookstore had better watch out. The story is witty, with big hints of Elmore Leonard.
Having said that, I have to register a big complaint: I don't buy the ending at all. Some of the choices made by people around Tommy don't make any sense to me, and one of those characters is just too paper-thin for the role.
You can find a better ending in Powell's "The Leap," in the same collection, but it doesn't have a concept as dazzling as "Grace."
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Out There, by Zoe Beck
"Out There," by Zoe Beck, in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, February 2012.
Among the other changes that e-mail has wrought in the world is an improvement in epistolary fiction. It is possible to exchange letters a lot faster than when DIego de San Pedro wrote the first epistolary novel in the fifteenth century.
And that's what German author Zoe Beck presents with, a story written entirely in e-mails. Most of them are written by Gil Peters, who is a successful author despite having agoraphobia so fierce that she hasn't left her apartment in eight years. But that's okay, she has adjusted to it, and with her computer and her shrink on tap she is doing fine.
Then her doctor goes on vacation just when an unacceptable change happens to her home. Things start to go rapidly out of hand...
The only thing I love better than a twist ending is multiple twists, and Beck provides them. I thought I knew where the story was going. Then I thought I saw the new direction. Nope. No wonder it won the Glauser prize.
Among the other changes that e-mail has wrought in the world is an improvement in epistolary fiction. It is possible to exchange letters a lot faster than when DIego de San Pedro wrote the first epistolary novel in the fifteenth century.
And that's what German author Zoe Beck presents with, a story written entirely in e-mails. Most of them are written by Gil Peters, who is a successful author despite having agoraphobia so fierce that she hasn't left her apartment in eight years. But that's okay, she has adjusted to it, and with her computer and her shrink on tap she is doing fine.
Then her doctor goes on vacation just when an unacceptable change happens to her home. Things start to go rapidly out of hand...
The only thing I love better than a twist ending is multiple twists, and Beck provides them. I thought I knew where the story was going. Then I thought I saw the new direction. Nope. No wonder it won the Glauser prize.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Shikari, by James Lincoln Warren
"Shikari," by James Lincoln Warren, in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, February 2012.
My friend James goes from strength to strength, as the saying goes. This novelette is the best Sherlock Holmes pastiche I have read since Nicholas Meyer turned the field on its ear with The Seven Percent Solution.
James explains in an introductory note that the idea came when he read that during the nineteenth century the British intelligence service used doctors as spies in Asia. Of course, Dr. Watson was an army doctor in Afghanistan. And who was the head of British intelligence? Sherlock Holmes's brother Mycroft. If Watson was one of Mycroft's spies, than surely it was no coincidence that he wound up in a position to keep an eye on his boss's eccentric brother...
Wait a minute, the purists cry. Watson could never have been a spy! He was too innocent, too open, and not nearly observant enough.
And how do we know that? From the books and stories written by Dr. Wat- Oh. Hmm...
But Watson could never have fooled Holmes! Holmes was far too shrewd, too perceptive, and we know that from the books and stor- Hmm....
You may think I'm giving away the plot. Actually this is just the premise. All I will tell you about the actual plot is that it is told by two minor characters in the canon, and it retools some of the Holmes saga, while solving some of the great puzzles of the works (like Watson's famous wandering wound, for instance.)
And the writing sparkles. Here is one of the narrators: "I had known Lucky Jim Moriarty in India. We shared a common interest in embezzling from our regiments."
A treat from beginning to end, with some genuine shocks along the way.
My friend James goes from strength to strength, as the saying goes. This novelette is the best Sherlock Holmes pastiche I have read since Nicholas Meyer turned the field on its ear with The Seven Percent Solution.
James explains in an introductory note that the idea came when he read that during the nineteenth century the British intelligence service used doctors as spies in Asia. Of course, Dr. Watson was an army doctor in Afghanistan. And who was the head of British intelligence? Sherlock Holmes's brother Mycroft. If Watson was one of Mycroft's spies, than surely it was no coincidence that he wound up in a position to keep an eye on his boss's eccentric brother...
Wait a minute, the purists cry. Watson could never have been a spy! He was too innocent, too open, and not nearly observant enough.
And how do we know that? From the books and stories written by Dr. Wat- Oh. Hmm...
But Watson could never have fooled Holmes! Holmes was far too shrewd, too perceptive, and we know that from the books and stor- Hmm....
You may think I'm giving away the plot. Actually this is just the premise. All I will tell you about the actual plot is that it is told by two minor characters in the canon, and it retools some of the Holmes saga, while solving some of the great puzzles of the works (like Watson's famous wandering wound, for instance.)
And the writing sparkles. Here is one of the narrators: "I had known Lucky Jim Moriarty in India. We shared a common interest in embezzling from our regiments."
A treat from beginning to end, with some genuine shocks along the way.
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