Nostalgia City Mysteries

Mark S. Bacon

Category Archives: Mystery novels

‘Deadline at Dawn’ is nonstop noir

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New York City has Bricky Coleman in its clutches. The small-town girl came to the city to become an actress, but it didn’t work out. Now she’s a dime-a-dance girl living in a dingy walk-up, bereft of spirit and hope. One evening she dances with Quinn Williams, another small-town transplant with equally dismal prospects. Somehow Quinn manages to erode Bricky’s layers of cynicism and suspicion and they become friends and allies in solving a dangerous puzzle.

Like most Cornell Woolrich novels, this one is dark and fast moving. The entire book occupies only a few early morning hours. Getting around a burglary and solving a murder stand in the way of the two young protagonists’ escape from their dismal lives.   An early coincidence and one or two later plot twists require a significant suspension of disbelief, but you sign on quickly because the dark corners of the city and its malevolent denizens are easily accepted as Woolrich draws you and his young protagonists into a race against the clock.Deadline at Dawn

The atmosphere is thick. Bricky looks up a dark street.   “Three anemic light-pools widely spaced down its seemingly endless length did nothing to dilute the gloom; they only pointed it up by giving contrast.” For Bricky, the main enemy isn’t a lurking murderer, it’s the city itself. It wants to possess her and grind her down. The young protagonist’s unhuman nemesis is similar to a lead character’s unnatural fear of the stars in the sky in Woolrich’s Night Has a Thousand Eyes. Merciless, mysterious forces conspiring to thwart success is a common Woolrich theme.

Looking for a murderer so they can put a regrettable event in Quinn’s life behind them and escape to small-town paradise, the two split up and dash about the city at night. In back-and-forth chapters each amateur sleuth thinks he or she is on the right trail, but of course there are complications, dead ends and unexpected dangers. We move quickly from Quinn’s perilous encounter with a stranger who he follows around the city, to Bricky’s capture by a pair she thinks did the murder.

I have a copy of the first printing of the “Tower Books Motion Picture” edition illustrated with photos of the 1946 film based—very loosely—on the book. Instead of chapter numbers or titles, there are faces of a clock, and each chapter heading has the hands moving closer to the 6 a.m. deadline Quinn and Bricky are racing toward. That’s when they hope to catch the interstate bus and escape New York City. The photos from the movie don’t match the novel. Quinn is represented as a sailor—in uniform—by Bill Williams.

Note that Deadline at Dawn is an example of Woolrich’s practice of recycling scenes, characters and events from short stories into novels. The first scene of Bricky’s dance hall dysphoria is similar to the beginning of a short story, Dancing Detective, that focuses on another cynical taxi dancer with moxie. After this first scene, however, the novel departs completely from the short story.

Like so many Woolrich stories, Deadline at Dawn looks at the many faces of fear. “And the man who says he’s never been afraid is a liar,” Woolrich says. Later he tells us, “Fear rots the faculties.” Unlike the movie version, the novel maintains the pessimism, the dread and the eerie notion of noir.

Deadline at Dawn
Cornell Woolrich (writing as William Irish)
The World Publishing Co. 1946
219 pages

Now available in a new edition from Centipede Press
300 pages   $14.52

Hyperlinks:

Centipede Press
Deadline at Dawn (film)

A new look at a classic murder story

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Crime and Punishment
by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky
Vintage Books    564 pages
$17.95

Two women are hacked to death with an axe and some valuables stolen from their apartment.   The killer, Rodion Raskolnikov, is at first trapped in the apartment when two men knock at the door and refuse to go away.   After a suspenseful few minutes Raskolnikov manages to escape unseen.   The mystery then becomes not who did it, because most of the book is written from the killer’s point of view, but which of two forces will ultimately be his undoing, the police or his dark, deranged mind that leads him to alternately wander the streets at night or hold up in his claustrophobic apartment while suffering fever, fainting and fantastic dreams.

After the murder, which takes place in mid-nineteenth century St. Petersburg, Russia, Raskolnikov’s mother and beautiful sister Dunya arrive from the country followed by the sister’s manipulative fiancée who Raskolnikov insults at their first meeting.  Raskolnikov’s sister is also pursued by a lecherous former employer bent on having Dunya one way or the other.  Soon a casual alcoholic acquaintance of Raskolnikov dies and sends his family into hysterics while the drunk’s self-effacing daughter, who has become a prostitute to support the family, catches Raskolnikov’s eye.

In this edition’s foreword, translator Richard Pevear compares the book to the Hindu parable of the blind men describing an elephant each by touching a different part, and indeed the subplots mentioned above head in different directions all held together by Raskolnikov.  So rather than explore all of Dostoevsky’s complex characters,  his overlapping themes, historical and literary allusions, let’s look at the book simply as a murder story.Crime and Punishment cover

Even though we know whodunit, the murder investigation and the exploration of Raskolnikov’s psyche is anything but straightforward.  A handsome young man in his early 20s, Raskolnikov is an impoverished, sickly former law student dressed in rags.  He lives in a garret or tiny flat and is afraid to run into his landlady because he’s behind on the rent.   He develops a scheme to kill and rob an elderly pawnbroker which he does early in the novel.  He also kills the pawnbroker’s sister who drops in unexpectedly.   The crime accomplished, the majority of the book focuses on the punishment which takes place largely in Raskolnikov’s head.

While he may regret the crime for what it may cost him, he doesn’t regret taking the life of someone he considers worthless.  Getting rid of the miserable crone was a favor to society.  The sister simply became, in modern vernacular, collateral damage.  Taking a view that separates mankind into the “ordinary and the extraordinary” Raskolnikov feels he is above most men and that the extraordinary ones may transcend conventional morality if the betterment of society is at stake.  As it quickly becomes obvious, Raskolnikov is far from a level-headed polemic.  Either his wacky moral beliefs are not enough to assuage his seeping guilt, or he’s on the verge of madness and all bets based on logic–even a twisted one–are off.  As mentioned, he wanders the streets having extended conversations with himself about his crime, his pursuers and a strange notion that since he’s committed a crime he is now free to do good deeds for others, for society.  But even when he donates some of his limited money, he seems to reinforce his appearance of derangement.

Hot on Raskolnikov’s trail is Porfiry Petrovich, a police detective who seems to understand the complex psychological aspects of the young man’s motivations.  A pudgy official of 35, his method of dealing with Raskolnikov is essentially to give him enough rope as the crime cliché says, but perhaps this method was not as commonplace when the book was published in 1866.  In a masterful scene slightly beyond the halfway point of the book,  Raskolnikov is summoned to Petrovich’s office where the detective lays out, in theoretical terms, what a perfectly solved murder case might involve, while he professes to be an awkward investigator.

“…suppose there is evidence sir, [he tells Raskolnikov] but evidence, my dear, is mostly double-ended, and I am an investigator and therefore, I confess, a weak man: I would like to present my investigation with, so to speak, mathematical clarity; I would like to get a hold of a piece of evidence that’s something like two times two is four! Something like direct and indisputable proof!  But if I were to lock him [a suspect] up at the wrong time–even though I’m sure it was him–I might well deprive myself of the means of his further incrimination.”

Petrovich even admits his interrogation techniques are clumsy, but he uses a telling metaphor.

“Tell me, really, who among all the accused, even the most cloddish peasant doesn’t know, for instance, that they [investigators] will first lull him with unrelated questions (to use your happy expression) and then suddenly stun him right on the head, with an axe…”

Again talking theoretically, Petrovich tells Raskolnikov that in some cases letting a suspect think that he knows his inner secrets and that he, the suspect, is being followed day and night will push the suspected person into making fatal mistakes.

Although Petrovich seems to be talking abstractedly, his message unnerves Raskolnikov to the point where he tells himself he’d like to “hurl himself at Porfiry and strangle him on the spot.”   Near the climax of the scene, Raskolnikov pounds his fist on the table and shouts, “Don’t taunt me!  I won’t have it!”

The case against Raskolnikov is not assured, however, compounded by another person’s confessing to the crime and the possibility that Raskolnikov may be completely loony so that the “cat and mouse game” (Petrovich’s words) proceeds with unexpected turns throughout the novel.

If anything in this book sounds familiar, it’s because mystery and suspense writers have had nearly 150 years to read Dostoevsky and benefit from his insights, copy his style or simply lift ideas.  The book is filled with what has become standard detective story fare: the killer returning to the scene of the crime, a protracted search for the best place to hide the loot, paranoia over being followed, frantic attempts to remove all blood stains, confiding the crime in secret to a girlfriend (a hooker with a heart of gold), the criminal’s belief that he’s somehow entitled to his plunder and a detective seeking a confession.  Petrovich’s roundabout interrogation of Raskolnikov sounds remarkably like the bumbling yet savvy Lieutenant Columbo (Peter Falk) from the TV series of the 1970s and 80s.

It would be a mistake to call this the original noir or hardboiled detective book, but the mood and the settings are decidedly grim.  The characters populate cramped, oppressive rooms decorated with faded, pealing wallpaper and frayed furniture.  Many are dressed in ragged clothes, have little or no money and, with a few exceptions, bleak prospects.   Suspicion, shame and fear are common and the dirty city streets are filled with falling-down drunks.  One particularly dark scene describes a horse being beaten to death in the street in front of cheering onlookers when it fails to pull an intentionally overloaded wagon.

Raskolnikov’s extended, abstract inner dialogs can become a little mind-numbing, and complicating the read is the custom of Russians to be called by their last names sometimes, or their first two names, or sometimes a nickname.  Within the same paragraph a character can be referred to by several different names–a challenge to English-speaking readers.  These issues aside, it’s easy to see why this novel is a towering classic.   It’s a powerful story, with complex characters, a strong emotional–and intellectual base–and an engrossing blueprint for the crime novels that followed it.

———-

E-book notes  This print version of the novel has many useful footnotes explaining aspects of Russian culture and language, historical and geographical references, plus relevant elements of the author’s background.  It also contains a foreword by one of the two renown translators and a useful character list with a guide to pronunciation of the names.

This novel also appears in an e-book collection of all of the author’s work, translated by Constance Garnett, that was available for the Kindle.  All of the novels were combined in the file, making the percentage read gage and word search all but useless.  According to the Amazon Web site, Dostoevsky’s books, also translated by Garnett, are now available separately–and free.

Cinema notes  According to imdb.com, there are no fewer than 30 Crime and Punishment films, many produced in other countries.  The most recent US production was a 2002 film starring Vanessa Redgrave, John Hurt and Crispin Glover.  A 1935 version starred Edward Arnold as Porfiry Petrovich and Peter Lorre as Raskolnikov.

Note for longtime readers/followers In revising my website there was no room for a separate page dedicated to mystery reviews.  I will continue to review mystery and suspense books (and and few films) but they will be contained in the blog page.  This review originally appeared in the book review section of this site.

Mystery writer T. Jefferson Parker: from ‘Laguna Heat’ to ‘Silent Joe’ and beyond

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Silent Joe
T. Jefferson Parker
Hyperion reprint edition 2002   416 pages
Mass market paperback $7.99

I have a signed copy of Laguna Heat, T. Jefferson Parker’s first mystery novel.   It was a gift from a friend. My wife and I were living not far from Laguna at the time and it was a huge treat to receive the book. Everyone in Orange County was talking about it.

A few years later I met Parker when he was a speaker at an unusual college course on forensic science. In class, Parker talked about his book, his background as a newspaper reporter and some of the details of writing a good mystery story.

Here’s Parker’s first sentence in Laguna Heat: “A perfect morning in a city of perfect mornings; an artist would have worked, a god would have rested.” On his blog he says he was proud of that sentence.   But it was the next two Silent Joesentences, especially the metaphor at the end, that I remember:

       “The convertible slowed as it approached the stables, then pounced from the road onto a gravel driveway. Its headlights swung left-to-right, acute angles filling with dust, while gravel popped under the tires like grease in a skillet.”

            Laguna Heat was a hit. It became a TV movie starring Harry Hamlin, Jason Robards and Rip Torn. Parker’s career was set. Since that time, he’s written 20 novels and picked up three Edgar awards. Silent Joe earned Parker his first Edgar in 2000 and it does not take a detective to see why the first-person novel about “acid baby” Joe won the award. If you’re looking for a place to acquire a taste for T. Jefferson, this is a good starting point.

Joe Trona is a 24-year-old Orange County Sheriff’s deputy assigned to jail duty. Many evenings, he serves as driver and often guard for his adopted father Will, a kind-hearted but dishonest county supervisor. The extent of his dishonesty, albeit with mostly good intentions, is exposed slowly to Joe throughout the novel. One evening as Joe is escorting his father Will on an errand that includes rescuing a young girl who apparently has been kidnapped, Will is trapped and murdered in an alley while Joe looks on, unable to dispatch all of his father’s attackers.

The balance of the book is Joe’s search for Will Trona’s killers. Along the way, Joe revisits his painful past. His birth father poured acid on Joe’s face when he was a baby, forever scaring him. Five years, later Will adopted Joe from an orphanage, an act of kindness that Joe has never forgotten. When he grew up, Joe went into law enforcement.

When possible, Joe wears a hat pulled low over his face. Parker’s description of Joe’s face makes him sound somewhat like the phantom of the opera.

Double-dealing Orange County politics forms the background for the story. A rich developer and his psycho son, a county department head on the take, the county’s premier televangelist, an odd assortment of inmates and other crooks plus members of Joe’s unusual family populate the novel. But Joe is the star.

He’s a tough cop. He’s muscular and works out regularly, knows how to handle himself and is a skilled marksman. As a result, this could be a Rambo type story with a hard-ass tough-guy protagonist bent on revenge, but Joe is a complex character and the complications in his life lift this story to surprising and rewarding heights.

I marveled at Parker’s creation and wondered if other readers–or reviewers–recognized the subtle, elusive nuances I sensed in Joe. Bill Sheehan, a Barnes and Noble reviewer, said Joe was an “evolving protagonist with love and loyalty issues.” Some reviewers referred to Joe’s intelligence. He is smart and has an eidetic memory. He recalls everything he sees and hears.

But there’s more to Joe. He’s polite–not smart-alecky–and doesn’t swear. He’s slow and introspective; his scars are not just on his face. One reviewer said Joe was “hesitant.” The voice Parker gave Joe, however, is unique in a way that makes other “unique” voices in fiction sound commonplace.

Silent Joe gets more gritty and compelling as it goes along. Joe learns more about his suspects, his parents and himself.   He exchanges barbs with the sadistic jail inmates and also falls in love.

Parker keeps up the pace using staccato sentences and fragments to move the action swiftly in some scenes. He doesn’t neglect metaphors, either. Explaining rush hour traffic he says, “But cars on Orange County freeways at six o’clock move about as fast as cars on showroom floors.”

The novel’s supporting cast–particularly the jail prisoners–from the crazy biker who carried the head of a victim around in a pillowcase tied to his hog for a week to a former assistant DA who planned to go to Tahiti with his family when he got out, fills the story of Joe’s life with fascinating details.

Toward the end of the book, Joe talks to one of his father’s friends, or more appropriately, acquaintances. After the meeting, Joe summarizes his situation and reviews his father’s oft-repeated advice that was possibly Joe’s nascent philosophy:

              “The idea struck me that I was inheriting my father’s friends, as well as his enemies. I just wasn’t positive which was which. I wondered if Will was. You only had to be wrong once.

                               “Love a lot.  Trust few.”