October's Short Fiction and More!
Hi all! This month’s issue of the Crime Cafe Magazine, includes Part Four of Just Call Her Marlo: Something Rotten.
I adapted it from the screenplay version I wrote here.
And here’s where we last left off!
*****
Here’a Part Four
I put as much distance as I could between my myself and the Bobbsey Twins. They didn’t bother further with me, since they had the business of killing or maiming Hamlet to accomplish. Or so I surmised from what I’d seen and heard so far.
But, apparently Dumb and Dumbest weren’t so clueless they didn’t take precautions. Apparently, King Claudius made sure they did so by lending Dim and Out Like a Light a slightly less-visible vehicle in which to make the New England trip. So much for tracking two killers. Now, I had fewer leads than Willie Loman in a David Mamet play.
So I took a brief powder. I stopped in at my favorite diner and treated myself to a good cup o’ joe, while I thought over my next move. Item One: Track down my client, who seemed to have ghosted me. No pun intended. I pondered ways to accomplish this as I read the paper and sipped coffee.
The server, a middle-aged man with a slightly younger man’s bod, came by my booth to offer a refill. I accepted that along with the nice view of his backside as he strolled behind the counter.
As Hamlet hadn’t returned my calls or texts, I was left with little to go on. However, according to the grapevine, the Danes had been threatened. A competitor from up north was trying to wrest control of distribution in Elsinore Heights and beyond. A certain Mr. Fortinbras. Never heard of him.
The server approached me holding a small plate bearing a large cheese Danish. “On me,” he said, setting it before me, with a wink and smile. A real cutie.
“You know something?” I said. “You’re cute.”
The server struck a pose. “What you see is nothing. I got a tattoo of the Burj Khalifa on a body part you wouldn’t believe.”
“Do tell,” I said, then my phone rang. Hamlet! “I gotta take this, hon.”
The server’s face did a slow collapse of disappointment. “That’s what they all say,” he stated, before he walked off. By then, I was nearly two sentences into a phone conversation.
“Hamlet? Where the hell are you?”
Hamlet sounded a bit sleepy, like he might be stoned. “I’ve been north northwest.”
I suppressed a sigh. “What does that mean? Are you in New England?”
Hamlet chuckled, a sound that grew quickly to a full-bellied laugh.
“Hamlet.” I wanted to shout his name, but managed to keep it down to a low hiss. “What is wrong with you? Where are you and why haven’t you returned my calls?”
“Graveyard.”
Okay. “You’re at a graveyard?”
“I’m at a graveyard. Oh, man. My best friend is dead.”
“Rosencrantz or Guildenstern?” Just a guess.
“Nah, they’re fine, I’m sure. This was Yorick.”
Yeah, sure. Yorick. Whatever. I stayed silent, hoping to hear more. Hamlet obliged me.
“That skull had a tongue in it and could sing once. He sang with a band. Yorick and the Gravediggers. A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.”
This conversation was getting weird, even for Hamlet.
“I’m sorry for your loss, but—”
“No!” His cry nearly pierced my eardrum. “Not another funeral!”
Momentarily stunned, all I could say was, “What?”
“Ophelia. She’s dead. Drowned herself.”
My first thought was: How do you know all this? My second was: Are you kidding me?
My third thought was: Poor nutty girl. But, after hanging with Hamlet and his fam, who could blame her?”
“Listen, I’m truly sorry, but if I’m going to help you—”
Naturally, Hamlet cut me off again. “My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth.” With that, he hung up.
I sighed and waved at the server. “Check, please.”
OCTOBER’S NEW RELEASES INCLUDE (IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER):
The Owl Cries by Hye Young Pyn.
The Death of Us by Lori Rader Day.
The Best American Mystery and Suspense edited by Lisa Ungar.
The Christmas Guest by Peter Swanson.
Dangerous Women by Mark de Castrique.
Hercule Poirot’s Silent Night by Sophie Hannah.
Stop Them Dead by Peter James. Available in paperback on pre-order.
Where Demons Hide by Douglas Skelton.
Sweetpea by C.J. Skuse. I’m reading this one now. That’s how far behind I am. It’s absolutely hilarious and quite violent. This one’s still available as a pre-order.
A Stroke of the Pen: The Lost Stories by Terry Pratchett. I’ve finished this one. Just haven’t had a chance to review it. It’s an absolutely fantastic collection of Pratchett’s early writing. I’ll do a fuller review of this one later.
Kill Show by Daniel Sweren Becker.
The Art of Privilege by Carey Keith Green.
BONUS LINKS
Why Do Ghost Stories Persist? (Part One). From Jacqueline Seewald’s blog.
“The Referee” by C.W. Blackwell. A short story from Shotgun Honey.
“The Competition” by Kathryn Prater Bomey. A short story from Shotgun Honey.
The Grave's in the Meadow - Manning Lee Stokes. A book review from Rough Edges.
Project of a Lifetime: Centipede's Complete Cornell Woolrich Short Fiction Series (2012-?). From The Passing Tramp: Wandering through the mystery genre, book by book.
Suits universe set to expand with new series in development at NBCUniversal. Do I want to watch this show or will I just end up yelling at the screen?
REVIEWS FROM THE ARCHIVES:
‘The Monkey’s Raincoat’ is Some Great PI Novel
Review: THE MONKEY'S RAINCOAT (Bantam Books 1987)
Author: Robert Crais
(review originally posted on February 15, 2011)
At Sleuthfest one year, I remember author Robert Crais giving a speech about how he published his first novel. It was a private eye novel released at a time when the word was that the private eye novel was dead. That novel, THE MONKEY'S RAINCOAT went on to win the Anthony and Macavity Awards and get nominated for the Edgar and Shamus Awards. Some dead genre, huh? :)
The book launched a successful series of mysteries featuring detective Elvis Cole (yes, Elvis) who (according to the back of the book) "quotes Jiminy Cricket and carries a .38. He's a literate, wisecracking Vietnam vet who is determined never to grow up." Wow ... looks like someone at Bantam took your basic kitchen sink approach to writing that one. In any case, some detective, huh?
Anyhow, Elvis is hired by shy, quiet Ellen Lang (or is it her slightly bossy friend, Janet Simon? no, it's Ellen) to find her missing husband, Mort, and their son, Perry. This involves many stakeouts, driving around Los Angeles, glimpses of Chicanos, encounters with big guys, the exchanging of banter (witty!), more stakeouts, more Chicanos, a visit to a washed up producer, a big black guy (yikes!), he's cool (ah!), Poitras (a fat cop -- more banter), girlfriends, parties, drugs, gangsters, mix-ups ... big problems ...
This book did more than live up to my expectations. I can see how in the late 1980s when it was published how this book must have blown a breath of fresh air into a genre that had been done and done again, especially in LA. Like Robert B. Parker's Spenser, Elvis is a white knight character in the tradition of Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe. Ellen Lang is a woman abandoned and so incapable of handling things, at least at first, she can't even write a check without collapsing into sobs. (Keep in mind, it is the late 1980s. However, I had to suspend my disbelief just a teeny bit on that one. Even if Ellen was originally from Kansas. I mean, I know she's not in Kansas, anymore, but really? C'mon!)
Even now, though, the writing is as fresh as ever. Rather than describe, I'll quote a favorite excerpt:
"The welterweight came around the corner, firing as fast as he could pull the trigger. One of his slugs caught the doorjamb and kicked some splinters into my cheek. I shot him in the face, then shoved Ellen through the kitchen and half carried her around the house and out onto the street. The Tattooed Man popped out of the front door and fired five shots -- bapbapbapbapbap -- then dove back into the house.
"Porch lights were coming on and someone was yelling and Wang Chung was coming out over somebody's radio. I shoved Ellen into the Corvette, fired up, and ran over two garbage cans pulling away. I was shaking and my shirt was wet with sweat and I wasn't having a great deal of luck seeing past the little silver flashes that bobbed around in front of my eyes. I drove. Slow. Steady. Just trying to get away from there. I think I ran over a dog."
Okay, you get the idea. And that's not even the wisecracking part, okay? Because that's there in abundance. Oh, plus the parts with the cat. They're priceless.
And, of course, there's Elvis' partner, Joe Pike, the totally awesome quiet, but deadly ex-Marine with an occasional thing for lipstick (don't ask -- read the book) whose office has no furniture. Some partner.
Needless to say, the story builds up to a highly suspenseful and nail-biting finish. (I'm surprised my fingers weren't reduced to bloody stumps.)
And, in the end, even if Elvis never grows up, it seems at least one of his clients might be able. :) Wow, some story!
‘February the Fifth’: Doug Adams Meets Dan Brown – Sorta
Review: FEBRUARY THE FIFTH (CreateSpace 2010) (CreateSpace! You can tell this is old.)
Author: Derek Haines
(review originally posted on March 15, 2011)
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away ... no, that's a whole 'nuther movie. This book takes place in the future. In a place that has no less than 12 sun systems. Twelve, as in the number of months in the calendar. Aha! The rulers of this empire comprised of the 12 sun systems are a Gregorian clan with names taken from said same calendar. Got that? :)
In other words, February the Fifth is a person. In fact, February is the person who ends up becoming successor as the new "Supreme Potentate," aka, leader of the empire after his father dies (or is he killed?) even though he is an ill-prepared, acne-plagued and fairly lazy, well, fool. The news of his dad's and brothers' deaths are delivered by a dour messenger with the most peculiar name of Snurd Humped. (More on him later.)
So, anyway, February goes to his lovely sisters -- April, May and June (what else?) -- for assistance. Lord knows, he can use it. Despite all indications to the contrary, Feb (for short) manages to rise to the occasion and take the oath properly. Through contact with a special orb, Feb is infused with leadership qualities. Hello? Things have changed.
Then things get really interesting when someone tries to, um, terminate Feb with extreme prejudice. (Yeah, another movie. I know, I know ...)
In fact, Feb and the sisters have to take it on the run. They bring along a couple of allies, including a fellow named Stringley, who's handy at tea making and backgammon, and the aforesaid dour messenger Snurd, whose lost his taste for his former bureaucratic post, I suppose.
Now ... what follows gets REALLY exciting. Big spaceships piloted by lizardlike creatures. But nice ones! Explosions as they're attacked. By their own people! Good grief! Running and hiding. Trips to strange new planets. Historical recountings. Understanding the family's roots.
To say too much here would reveal spoilers. Let's just say that the Catholic Church and the planet Earth are both key to the plot. Thus, Douglas Adams meets Dan Brown ... sorta. Except without albinos, the Louvre or the number 42. So, it's different. Really.
Derek Haines manages to deftly skewer political maneuvering and/or family dysfunction/backstabbing, while telling an exciting story about a hapless underachiever who's forced to suddenly grow up and take responsibility (aka, a coming-of-age story) by dealing with an insurrection.
Okay, so ... a few peccadilloes. Do I wish some double skips had been inserted between a few scenes, here and there? Sure. Could a few words have been sacrificed to editing? Sure. Did I read the book, anyway? Yes, absolutely! Why? Because I really loved it. The story grabbed me right away. It's a lighthearted, funny read with a serious point. A great combination.
And I laughed out loud many a time. But I'm a kid at heart, so I do that sort of thing.
Er, is it really a spoiler to say it ends well? I don't think so. To be more accurate, I'd say it pretty much does.
Police Work is Hard, the Russian Mob is Mean ‘And Every Man Has to Die’
Review: AND EVERY MAN HAS TO DIE (Gray Dog Press -- to be published May 3, 2011)
Author: Frank Zafiro
(review originally posted on March 26, 2011)
This novel is the fourth in Frank Zafiro's series about the police of the fictional town of River City, WA (a thinly disguised Spokane, I'm led to believe) and it starts with trouble for one of its major characters. Namely, Officer Katie MacLeod of the River City police who's attacked by a big old mean Russian dude while he's fleeing the scene of an incident. She takes him on alone and takes him down (alone! -- yay, Katie!), but not without breaking her ankle (ouch!) in two places (double ouch!).
But this is just the tip of the iceburg, as they say. Because this Russian works for the Mob and they're bringing big trouble to River City. (No, no ... don't say it. All right. :))
The Russian leader, Sergey, has big plans. He'd like to expand his criminal reach substantially, geographically speaking. Sergey is married to Marina, whose brother is Valeriy, Sergey's assistant. But Val has his own agenda and his own plans within plans within plans ... and he thinks Sergey's reach may be exceeding his grasp. So he's getting ready for when Sergey falls on his face. Maybe.
Meanwhile, back at the River City Police Department, an analyst named Renee is trying to warn the brass about the possible threat posed by the Russian Mob. She's pretty much ignored. So much for that.
Add to the mix a pretty young female rookie with the unfortunate initials of B.J. (yeah, really), who also seems to lack self-esteem, along with some sexual tension between her and a certain recurring character in the series. Sparks fly, but when you play with fire, someone's bound to get burned. (Terrible pun alert. Read the book to find out.)
The FBI, as always, turns up. Due to a federal investigation, which naturally puts everyone on edge.
Okay, complicated enough for you yet?
And I haven't even mentioned the Russian snitch!
Or the gang wars. Okay, okay ... enough already ...
The novel has a complex plot (duh!) that Zafiro has woven together with seeming ease. And that takes great skill.
More to the point, his story and characters are highly authentic. Clearly, Zafiro's previous experience as a police officer informs his work, giving it a truly realistic feel. In addition, he's researched Russian gangs and his efforts show in the clear depictions of their brutal ways.
Further, the novel features an array of memorable characters. Writing about an entire squad room of cops and their superiors and giving each one a distinctive personality is no easy feat. Zafiro pulls this trick off as if it were nothing. It's one of the many things that make this a suspense story of exceptional quality.
Incidentally, two recurring characters, in particular, are affected -- patrol partners Anthony Battaglia and Connor "Sully" O'Sullivan -- and, well ... just read the book ...
Police work is hard, the Russian Mob is mean and every man has to die.
That's it. Read the book to find out more.
The ending was moving and haunted me for days afterward.
PS: On a lighter note, Renee is a pistol, and she gets some of the funniest lines.
PPS: Highly recommended, of course!