This 1975 oeuvre (Pardon my French) features Goodey the homicide detective, who accidentally shoots a security guard, which security guard happens to be a cousin 29th removed of the Mayor. Goody gets booted off the force, then brought back because nobody else can deal with the ensuing events. Like the murder of the topless dancer whose diary does mention the mayor, ahem ahem. Hizzoner needs this investigated on the Q.T. and in exchange for reinstatement, Goodey is the man for the job.
Wonderful story line, great writing, and what can I say? Charles Alverson is the author of about a dozen books, and even has his own Wiki page. I checked. I don’t have a Wiki page. Major oversight. I will have to contact them about this.
Want some quotes from the snappy writing?
He took a long, ice-cube-tinkling gulp of his drink and came out of the experience a much calmer man.
His eyes nodded, if eyes can do that sort of thing.
…a pair of hard little hands began trying to put a crimp in my windpipe. I’m easygoing and slow to anger, but this was getting annoying.
In front of the bar, taking up two stools and part of a third was Fat Phil Franks. Instead of waiting for him to turn around — that could have taken all evening at the rate he moved his three hundred seventy-five pounds –I moved up to the bar to his right where he could swivel his neck at me without doing any serious damaged to his system. I allowed him three or four bar stools for overflow and took a seat.
…the waiting list to get married there was as long as a bookie’s memory.
… the only noise was the tinkle of ice cubes and the rustle of lies brushing up against broken promises.
At first I didn’t know where I was. I was dazzled by the pure drabness of the decor.
Then Phillips started patting the breast pocket of a rumpled but very expensive sharkskin suit as if he were trying to put out a brush fire somewhere in his underwear.
Great read. The next in the series is Not Sleeping, Just Dead. don’t ya just love that title?