First off, I almost dismissed this one as one of Hard Case's more dubious picks, like the Robert Parker book that wasn't by the Parker everyone was thinkng of. E. Howard Hunt was involved in the Watergate break-in, ...more
Author E. Howard Hunt established a backdrop which was as much a living organism as the characters. I liked the emphasis placed on creating a feeling of being inside the inner workings of busy hotel where staff have chance interactions, co ...more
The story revolves around a house detective (dah!) working at the Hotel Tilden. Pete Novak is the classic hard drinking, babe loving, honest-to-a-fault, cigarette smoking, gumshoe who gets caught in the middle of a d ...more
As for this entry in the series, it's breezy and fun, well-written and constructed, with a lot of great noir patt ...more
House Dick is one of Hunt’s very best, a classic hardboiled story of a detective in a Washington D.C. hotel (no, not that hotel) investigating a twisty tale of burglary and murder, of skullduggery under cover of darkness, of deception and shifting loyalties – and of the price you pay when you trust the wrong people…About the Author
Before he became one of the most controversial figures in modern American history, going to prison for his involvement in the Watergate conspiracy, E. Howard Hunt w
ive read barely any of the noir type fiction, im normally a fantasy/SF reader, but im trying to get into more crime...
well written, reasonably straightforward plot, some decent action, a few twists and turns...
also liked that it was written by a key figure in the watergate scandal...made it more interesting somehow...
all in all, a solid ...more
this is written with heavy era slang- it immerses the reader.
I like it, it is fast paced, and it is hard to see which way the tale is going to go. you can't help but like Novak.
is this literature now? 50 years removed from when it was just a news stand throw away? Its good and you'll want more.
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Except for the obese wife of a wealthy industrialist, the furtive face of a raw food quack and the memory of a silk-shirted hoodlum tossing a bill on the carpet for you to crawl and fetch.
All quiet except for the tortured face of a grey-eyed, ash-blonde lovely with a showgirl’s body and a conscience heavier than a carload of sins. Mouth, a slash of red; eyes that pleaded for pity, understanding. And lips that told nothing…”