Underground Above Ground, by Robert Tippee,

"Underground Above Ground," by Robert Tippee, in Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine, March/April 2017.

So, when do you know you are reading a terrific story?

Sometimes there's a knock-em-dead opening paragraph and you spend the rest of the story thinking: Don't blow this.

Sometimes a story starts slow and builds and builds.

And some stories take your breath away with a great twist ending.

But maybe the rarest is the story that catches you later, because you can't stop thinking about it.  You read it again, not because you want to figure out how a trick ending worked, but because you want to savor the nuances, admire the architecture.

In other words: I had to sit with this one for a while, as the saying goes.

The nameless narrator is a young man who has mastered the art of disappearing.  He dresses in black, with a stocking cap that hides his face.  And as the story begins, it is after ten PM and he is sitting in the darkness near a city tennis court, watching a young man and his beautiful girlfriend as they volley the ball, flirt, and discuss Facebook.

Facebook.  They ought to call it "Gutspill."  I don't do Facebook.  Somebody like me can't.  But why would anybody?

This is a guy with nobody to "friend" on Facebook anyway.  It's clear that there are bad things in our narrator's past, although it is not clear at first whether they were done to him, by him, or both.

And then the story takes several unexpected twists, which is all I can say.  Except this: I loved it.

Renters, by Tim L. Williams

"Renters," by Tim L. Williams, Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, March/April 2017.

It's rural Kentucky in the mid-eighties, a hard time in a hard place.  Davy is fifteen years old.  His father, a Vietnam vet, lost his job years ago and now puts food on the table hunting and fishing.  Dad has what we might call anger issues.  When his wife said something he didn't like he: "grabbed her by her hair, dragged her to the back door, and threw her into the yard.  'Come back in when you find a cure for stupid.'"

The fourth character in this situation is the family's landlord, Ben Daniels, the richest man in the county.  Daniels wants to bring rich tourists to hunt on his land, which means he has to stop Davy's dad from hunting there for the pot.  Oh, did I mention that Davy's mother is young and beautiful and when she is around the good-looking landlord has "busy eyes?"

So we have all the makings of a tragedy here.  The only question is who is going to end up doing what to whom.  And there Williams offers us some surprises, which is what I liked best about this well-written story.

  "There are some things that need killing..."

Gold Digger, by Reavis Z. Wortham

"Gold Digger," by Reavis Z. Wortham, in Bound by Mystery, edited by Diane D. DiBiase, Poisoned Pen Press, 2017.

Most of this story takes place in May 1934, on the night Bonnie and Clyde died, although that has nothing to do with the story.  (Well, now that I think of it, it might explain a bit of one character's motivation.  Subtle, that.)  It's rural Texas and our narrator is a ten year old boy at a barn dance, with no less than Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys performing. He witnesses a murder, a pointless killing involving that ancient cause of trouble, an older husband a younger wife.

Then we jump to the same guy in World War II, and then many years later to his old age.  And only at that point does he, and do we, figure out exactly what was going on back in 1934.  I didn't see the twist coming at all. 

The Farmer and His Wife, by Earl Staggs

“The Farmer and His Wife,” by Earl Staggs,  Mystery Weekly Magazine, March 2017.

Ever notice that private eye fiction is full of missing daughters?  Ross Macdonald did.  One of his books begins: "It was a wandering daughter job."

 Earl Staggs seems to have noticed, too, but he does a neat role reversal.  His P.I. is hired to find a missing son.  Oh, by the way, here is Staggs' opening sentence:


"She had me from the first teardrop."

Aw, the big sentimental lug.

"She" is the mother. Her son disappeared while working on a farm to earn college money.   And we won't go any farther, although, naturally, the hero does.

Mad Still, by Andrew Davie

"Mad Still," by Andrew Davie, in Mystery Weekly, February 2017.

If you took a Bob Dylan song full of surreal imagery, say "Desolation Row" or "Just Like Tom Thumb Blues," and turned it into a crime story the result might be a bit like "Mad Still."

The anonymous narrator is a retired boxer (mostly a sparring partner).  He is newly arrived in New Orleans and he is meeting with the Clown.

The Clown is the leader of a group of street performers and they are having a problem with a human statue, the one nicknamed Mad Still because he can stand unmoving all day, hogging one of the best places to attract crowds.  "He doesn't even take tips."  The Clown and his associates want him moved by any means necessary.

But it turns out there is a rival group of performers that want Mad Still to stay where he is.  They are the ACTors, movie star look-alikes who earn their daily bread posing for photos with tourists. There leader is Clint Eastwood, more or less.  Both groups want our boxer hero to enforce their will.

Violence happens.  Someone is kidnapped.  Golems are invoked.  Then things turn weird.

What I am saying is, if you want a straight road to a logical conclusion you shouldn't be on Highway 61 in the first place.

I enjoyed this story a lot.

The House on Maple Street, by Janice Law

"The House on Maple Street," by Janice Law, in Coast to Coast: Private Eyes from Sea to Shining Sea, edited by Andrew McAleer and Paul D. Marks, Down & Out Books, 2017.

This is the fourth time my friend and fellow SleuthSayer has made it into this column.

Raymond Wilde is a private eye in a small town in Connecticut where high school football is a big thing.  His client is Harold Bain, a wealthy and abrasive man, who wants Ray to prove that the school quarterback is a ringer, not really living in the town.  He says that he's concerned about the taxpayers being ripped off, but he really wants to get the outsider out of the way so his own son can move up to quarterback.

Ray investigates but quickly gets distracted by another house on the same block where mysterious goings-on are, uh, going on.  Some of them involve Harold Bain, Jr.

What I liked best about this story is the ending, in which several characters show unexpected sides of their personalities.  You might even call it a happy ending.

 

Mr. Private Eye Behind the Motel with a .38, by Michael Bracken

"Mr. Private Eye Behind the Motel with a .38," by Michael Bracken, in Coast to Coast: Private Eyes from Sea to Shining Sea, edited by Andrew McAleer and Paul D. Marks, Down & Out Books, 2017.

What a long story title.  This, by the way, is Bracken's third appearance in this column. It takes place in Waco, Texas, where Blake is a former cop (he arrested the son of the wrong millionaire) turned private eye.  Mrs. Watkins hired him to get proof that her fat rich husband is cheating on her.  She might want more from Blake than just that.

And so might Ashley, a wealthy blond he meets in downtown,  near the food trucks.  For one thing, she would like to accompany him on a case... We will leave it there, I think.  It's a good story.

But let's talk about the art of building an anthology.  There is a story earlier in this book that, shall we say, runs from Point A to Point B, with B being the revelation of a particular plot device.

Bracken's story includes the same device, but it runs past it to Point C.  (Which does not automatically make it a better story, by the way.)

If the editors had put Bracken's story earlier on than the other tale would be a disappointment.  But by running it first the alert reader says "Ah, I see where Bracken is going" - and is pleasantly surprised when he goes past it.  So, good job, editors.