For today’s Sunday Salon, I am participating under the weather. Both figuratively and literally. I’m not feeling so hot, and Western Washington saw a bit of late winter weather the last few days. The snow ain’t really staying around, but it’s quite chilly and definitely very wet. Hence, I read curled up on the couch with some tea.
Before I delve into my reading though, I want to plug Wordsy, a Digg clone for people who love books. Hans Dekker is the brains behind the joint. Wordsy is running a contest this week, with a prize of real Dutch chocolate! It’s not as exotic as you would think though. Hans is Dutch. Still, you don’t get Dutch chocolate at the Haggen’s in Ferndale, Washington. There’s also some handmade bookmarks from Solobooks as part of the prize package. All you have to do is write the first line of a novel. If NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) was too much for you, this is much easier. Anyway, head over to Wordsy and enter.
The first thing about the book though is the name. Not the name of the book, though that’s what got me to pick it up from outside Michael’s Books a couple of weeks ago. I’m talking about the name of the author, Ed McBain. I was vaguely aware of the name prior to reading this. It’s old news to hard-core mystery fans, but I am now fascinated by the many names of one Salvatore Albert Lombino. That’s the author’s birth name. He published a few things under that name. Then he decided to take on the pen name of Evan Hunter, legally as well as on covers, because he thought it would sell better. Before too long though, he wrote this book under the name Richard Marsten. But later publishers re-issued the book under another of Hunter’s pen names, Ed McBain. Follow all that? Oye!
Published in 1957, the style is similar to many mysteries written in that era, though it’s rougher around the edges than the other stuff I’ve read. Unlike a lot of other hard-boiled
mysteries written back then, this one does not turn to a fireplace scene when the sex happens. There’s no swell of her bosom
and a scene fade at the end of the chapter.
The main character is Philip Colby (yay for Phils!), a detective on a major city police force, on a vacation across the river with his fiancé, Ann. They meet up with the local law, who shake them down for a speeding ticket. But even worse awaits them when they find a motel. The motel is a front for a brothel, and something is about to go down! Colby puts Ann to bed in her own cabin, then heads to the common shower before turning in himself. Only thing is, when he gets back to his room, there’s a hooker there who tries to aggressively sell her wares to him. He extracts himself, but when he checks the room next door for Ann, she’s missing as if she never came. Next the motel proprietor insists Colby came alone. As does everyone else including the local law enforcement. It’s like Jodie Foster in Flight Plan except on the Jersey shore. Will Colby find his fiancé? Will he figure out what he stumbled in to? Read to find out! It’s short enough at 158 pages.
One great part is a paean to city life that starts off chapter 14. It’s awesome! It describes a New York City of the 20s or 30s as seen through the eyes of a child and teenager. It feels a bit out of place at first, but McBain weaves it into place skillfully, and it illustrates what happens afterward very well. Sure, a police officer wouldn’t stop to monologue in real life, but we can forgive that little sin.
One thing I’ve always wanted to do is take one of the order forms from these older paperbacks and send in for the books listed. Of course, the books are out of print and if the publisher even uses the same P.O. box anymore I’d be highly surprised. But I want to have these books with the strange titles from authors who have long disappeared. Wouldn’t it be magical to send away and they still show up?
Title: Vanishing ladies
Author: Ed McBain (Evan Hunter)
Imprint / publisher: Signet / New American Library / Times Mirror
Format: Mass market paperback
Length: 158 p.
Publication date: 1976 (originally 1957)
LC classification: PS3515.U585
