David Markson was an interesting writer. He wrote The Ballad of Dingus Magee, which was made into a movie starring Frank Sinatra, three crime novels, of which this is one, and several other later novels which were rather different in style and approach to the normal narrative style. I am halfway through one of them now, and it is something of a slog, to be frank.
But Epitaph for a Tramp is wonderful. Hard-boiled 1959 noir crime novel, cleverly written, Chandler-esque in style.
A couple of years ago,our protagonist, a P.I., married a chick he met on the beach, and he fell in love at first sight. They marry soon after, but sadness is on the horizon. Turns out, she is a troubled creature, finding solace in the arms of strangers whenever he is away on a case. He divorces her and carries on with his life. This is exactly why your mother always tells you to wait a couple of years before marrying, because it takes time for the real person to reveal him/herself.
A year or so after the divorce, she comes to his apartment in the middle of the night, having been stabbed in the street, and bleeds out on his floor. The rest of the book is him trying to discover who killed her.
It was good,– good writing, a good mystery, an interesting background story, and as usual, I had no clue as to the murderer, so I was happy with it. More and more often, these days, I only want something easy peasy to read at night before I fall asleep, because I am too close to falling asleep to read anything too heavy. Well, that’s what happens when you stay up into the wee hours of 7 pm.