The stunning crime thriller from one of the writers of THE WIRE. Washington, D.C., 1972. Derek Strange has left the police department and set up shop as a private investigator. His former partner, Frank 'Hound Dog' Vaughn, is still on the force. When a young woman comes to Strange asking for his help recovering a cheap ring she claims has ...
The stunning crime thriller from one of the writers of THE WIRE. Washington, D.C., 1972. Derek Strange has left the police department and set up shop as a private investigator. His former partner, Frank 'Hound Dog' Vaughn, is still on the force. When a young woman comes to Strange asking for his help recovering a cheap ring she claims has sentimental value, the case leads him onto Vaughn's turf, where a local drug addict's been murdered, shot point-blank in his apartment. Soon both men are on the trail of a ruthless killer: Red Fury, so called for his looks and the car his girlfriend drives, but a name that fits his personality all too well. Red Fury doesn't have a retirement plan, as Vaughn points out - he doesn't care who he has to cross, or kill, to get what he wants. As the violence escalates and the stakes get higher, Strange and Vaughn know the only way to catch their man is to do it their own way. Rich with details of place and time - the cars, the music, the clothes - and fuelled by non-stop action, this is Pelecanos writing in the hard-boiled noir style that won him his earliest fans and placed him firmly in the ranks of the top crime writers in America.
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Pelecanos' early work delighted me with its gritty portraits of Washington, D.C.'s ethnic peoples, their music, language, interactions. His characters were always strongly drawn, his plots always drew one in.
As the years rolled by, he won acclaim in other venues, such as "The Wire", and grew as a novelist. He now writes about the same people, in the same places; he still refers to the music being listened to, and so forth. All the good things he used to do he still does, only better, with the insight of an adult artist. This is not meant to be off-putting: his work still belongs to the "Crime" genre, as does, say, DeLillo's "Underworld". 5 stars and Go!
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