Sideswipe (Charles Willeford, 1987)

Another highly enjoyable ride full of thrills and quirky characters with my new best friend, Hoke Moseley. It continues from where New Hope for the Dead has finished. Hoke now lives together with pregnant Ellita Sanchez and his two teenage daughters, but for some reason, he has just had enough. It could be the pile of cold cases at work or a simple case of midlife crisis. Willeford thankfully doesn't even bother to tell us what exactly has made him so fed up with the world. One morning, he suffers a nervous breakdown (I think), so he decides that he needs to simplify his life. He moves to a small tourist resort and starts managing his father's small motel.

But there will be crime, of course. Parallel to Hoke's story, we follow the formation of a very peculiar gang, weird even by Willeford's high standard of craziness. Its leader, Troy, with reptilian looks, is a self-proclaimed criminal psychopath who, in prison, befriends an elderly Stanley. Also a psychopath but not yet a criminal one, as for the time being, he seems to be happy enough with occasional dog poisoning. These two men form some kind of weird father/son homosexual relationship and are joined by Troy's hot ex-stripper girlfriend with a disfigured face, who is a (failed) abstract artist.

Sideswipe feels like a combination of the first two Hoke's novels. The structure of mixing his personal story and the gang's job preparation is almost identical to the one from Miami Blues, and little episodes concerning his daughters keep the tone similar to New Hope for the Dead. There's once again a mandatory minor case that Hoke solves along the way. There's a robbery in the local hotel, and he helps the police force to find the thief.

Troy's gang is so colourful and such an insane bunch of characters that it almost threatens to steal the entire show from Hoke at times. Sometimes I could almost sense that Willeford was aware of this and would react by giving his hero an additional storyline to prove that he still was the main man. One of the novel's highlights is the episode where Hoke promptly ships his daughter to her mother on the first plane to L.A., immediately after he learns that she has some weird medical problems (bulimia) and doesn't have a clue how to deal with the situation. And she's accompanied by some lowlife teenager whom Hoke has just met 10 hours before. She informs his wife that she's a trained nurse, and to make sure they would stay together, he even handcuffs both girls together!

Don't like to repeat myself, but this is truly great stuff. Simple and effective. Funny but also ugly at times. Full of black humour but also compassion.

And it could also come with a message. Is life even possible to be simplified?

5/5

Facts:

Hero: 
Sergeant Hoke Moseley

Location:
Miami and Ocean Mall, where Hoke is recuperating and trying to simplify his life.

Body count: 6 (plus one baby in the past)

Dames: 
Possibly Ellita Sanchez and questionably disfigured Dale Forrest, once Miss Bottlecapping Industry of Daytona Beach. And Hoke's daughter Sue Ellen is on the right track to become a real babe - she had grown a green mohawk and went to see Dead Kennedys gig (ticket costing 35$!!?).

Blackouts: 
None, unless we count that weird nervous breakdown.

Title: 
Another intriguing one that escapes my understanding. I checked a few online dictionaries, but couldn't find anything relevant. Any suggestions?

Cover:
Nice and in the same style as the rest of Penguin reprints of Hoke Moseley novels. Maybe a little too similar to Miami Blues.

Cool lines:  
As mentioned, Hoke is still our main man, but this time I will use cool lines to let Troy explain his complex personality:

I'm a professional criminal, what the shrinks call a criminal psychopath.[The Coolest!]

What it means is, I know the difference between right and wrong and all that, but I don't give a shit. That's the official version. Most men in prison are psychopaths, like me, and there are times - when we don't give a shit - when we act impulsively.

- I don't have time to go into all of the ramifications of my personality, it's too complex. I've been tested again and again, and it always comes out the same. Psychopath. And because I'm a criminal, I'm also a criminal psychopath. You follow me?

- Yeah, I think so. But if you aren't crazy, what are you?

- It's what I told you already. I know the difference between good and bad, but it makes no difference to me. If I see the right thing to do and want to do it, I do it, and if I see the wrong thing and want to do it, I do that too.
- You mean you can't help yourself then?
- Certainly I can. I'll put it another way. I can help myself, but I don't give a damn.
- And because you don't give a damn, you're a criminal psychopath, is that it?
- You've got it.
- But why don't you give a damn?
- Because I'm a criminal psychopath. Maybe, when they give you some tests, you might could be one, too.

Smoking comforts ordinary men, but I'm not an ordinary man. There aren't many like me left. And it's good thing for the world that there isn't. There'll always be a few of us in America, in every generation, because only a great country like America can produce men like me.I'm not a thinker, I'm a doer. I'm considered inarticulate, so I talk a lot to cover it up. [The Coolest!]

Badge of Evil (Whit Masterson, 1956)

The book on which my favourite Orson Welles movie, Touch of Evil, is based. To be honest, I had no idea that the film was even based on a book until the back blurb on this one caught my attention in the bookstore. And since I'm obviously not Orson's die-hard fan, I must admit that he did one hell of a job on his screenplay. One of those rare occasions where the movie is much better than the original book.

It's simply not hard-boiled enough. A story about dirty cops, set in police stations and the DA's office, should be driven by strong characters and sharp dialogue, moving forward at a rapid pace. Smoking, drinking, cursing, fighting, etc. Or at least be a solid police procedural. Instead, we get a predictable "one against all, good against evil" tale of the white knight fighting for the ungrateful lady Justice against a flawed system orchestrated by weak politicians and compromised media.

And family shit, lots of it. Mitch's wife Connie is so pure, cool, beautiful, full of understanding and dedication to her hubby that she doesn't even bitch too much about their ever-postponed family vacation. I don't think that any of the authors had seen Fritz Lang's masterpiece The Big Heat, released a few years prior. Because if they did, Connie would be blown into pieces sometimes at the end of the first act, making Mitch go on a bloody revenge rampage. But nothing like that happens - our hero is confused and scared most of the time and gets a lucky break at the end.

Also didn't like the writing style much. Too technical and formulaic, so it never really takes off. Once the evidence fixing is established, the plot becomes almost nonexistent, and the whole thing shifts into boring drama/thriller mode. My speculation is that these kinds of narration problems may occur as a result of the collaboration between two writers working on the same book.

Decent enough material that, unfortunately, hasn't aged very well. But still immensely cool to read it if you like Touch of Evil. It's genuinely incredible how Wells managed to turn this unquestionably original, yet somehow mediocre, novel into a timeless masterpiece.

3/5

Facts:

Hero:
Mitch Holt, 35, assistant district attorney

He knew that soon he would be in a position to open his own private practice without unduly endangering the eating habits of his family.

Location: 
Some big town in southern California near the Mexican border. I assume that would be San Diego (it's definitely not LA), but probably the authors were vague about this intentionally to emphasise the metaphor about corruption and the weak legal system across America.

Body count: 

4 (2 suicides)

Dames: 
None really. His whining wife Connie hardly counts as a dame.

Blackouts: 

/

Title: 
Obviously, it alludes to McCoy, but I would hardly categorise a poor bastard as an evil one. He was merely an overworked asshole with a god complex. And since the title "Badge of an overworked asshole with a god complex" really does sound stupid, let's not bitch about it too much.

Cover: 
Good old-fashioned one, like all covers of Prologue Books are. It would be cool to put little figures of Holt, McCoy and Quinlan into the web.

Cool lines:  
To be a successful prosecutor was the same as being a successful salesman or a successful preacher. You had to believe in your product.

He settled for a stubby .32 pistol that had both convenience and authority.

The bullet tugged at the lapel of  Holt's coat in passing and then went on its way with a complaining whine of having missed.[The Coolest!]

The Vengeful Virgin (Gil Brewer, 1958)

I knew I'd never get enough of her. She was straight out of hell.

Shirley and I generated something together that drowned out conscience. This was just something we were going to do together. And, of course, the money. I wanted it. I would get it.

Shirley Angela was under my skin like the itch and it was going to take a lot of scratching.

He was ready to die. He was old enough. He sure as hell was rich enough.

Doom. You recognize doom. It's a feeling and a taste, and it's black, and it's very heavy. It comes down over your head, and wraps tentacles around you, and sinks long dirty fingernails into your heart. It has a stink like burning garbage. Doom.

Boy meets girl. They are both young, horny and greedy, and the only thing standing between them is the girl's wealthy stepfather. Sounds like a postman is ringing twice, doesn't it? Feels almost like heresy writing this, but in many ways this one is even better than Cain's famous masterpiece.

We know the whole plot (and its ending) after reading just a few pages. But what Brewer manages to pull off masterfully is the immense build-up of the tension and suspense as we dive deeper into the vortex, approaching the inevitable doom of our condemned lovers.

And the trick is that in this crime book, there will be no mystery! There are some characters introduced (Victor's doctor, Shirley's horny neighbour, Jack's ex-girlfriend) that could (and usually would) form some sort of alliance with one of our protagonists to double-cross the other. There's no such thing here; the final big twist is essentially nothing more than a lack of any twist.

And Jack himself - as one would expect from the TV fixer-upper - is a pretty lousy killer. To be blunt, he's a total amateur! He even prepares a list of all the possible fuck ups and then forgets to destroy it, so it can be found by the cops when they search his apartment. He also has second thoughts about the whole thing and is prepared to call it off  (He'd croak natural, and everything would be perfect). But of course, there's no way out; the greed got hold of him, and he's doomed.

Great stuff, just don't expect an intriguing story full of twists and subplots centred around some colourful anti-hero. Without a question, still pure pulp with both sex and violence pretty graphic and disturbing ending, but this is for me foremost a sad, cold and intense book about the dark places in our souls and addictions in our heads.

4.5/5

Facts:

Hero:
Jack Ruxton, a TV repairman and the owner of a small electronics shop.

Location:
Miami. However, it doesn't play a significant role except on one occasion when our hero is in the water and becomes concerned about the alligators.

Body count: 

3

Dames:
Shirley Angela, a confused and horny combination of femme fatale and damsel in distress. Her neighbour, Mayda Lamphier (nervous type, and loud). Jack's neurotic ex-girlfriend, Grace.

Blackouts: 
None, but there's a funny description of the nightmare where Jack is chasing Mayda through an endless living room full of TV sets. 

Title:
Obviously, and without some major spoilers, it refers to Angela. And the second part is a kind of twist.

Cover: 
Cool and very hot! By Gregory Manchess. But not 100% accurate - although there is a scene involving piles of money and fire and a naked (not just in underwear!) chick with a gun. And for some reason, two empty whiskey bottles are missing.

Cool lines:
Not many witty one-liners or cool descriptions here. It goes as far as "The language she used would have shamed a drunken Marine"