Set in 1986, Out On the Rim is spot on of the times. As Ross Thomas is want to do, he describes the 80’s through the shenanigans of political conmen & shysters, which include government officials, lawyers, business men, and the office, aka, CIA. In This tale, an outstanding novel, which would also translate into great cinema at the hands of say Quentin Tarantino. I’m surprised he never optioned it?
Before the book, the introduction by Donald Westlake deserves mention. Donald Westlake on Ross Thomas…
“I’m trying to figure out how to tell the story I want to tell here. It necessarily contains a short blunt Anglo-Saxon word which, in many contexts, I have no trouble employing, but which, in the present context, seems to me to present the wrong tone, to be off-key. So I tell you what; when we reach any point, in dialogue or wherever, that the word I have in mind would be deployed, I’ll use the word “magruder” instead. Okay?”
“The reporter would only be in the one scene, but the audience should be able to remember him whenever that vital fact emerged, so would Gary mind if Ross called the character “Gary Salt,” that being an easy and a memorable name? Gary said he wouldn’t mind at all, in fact he’d be honored. And then he added these fateful words: “Just remember, some day my mother’s going to see that movie. So I don’t care who the character is, just so he doesn’t magruder children and animals.”
“Gary didn’t know, or didn’t fully appreciate. Ross was a contrarian. He couldn’t help himself; if told he couldn’t do something, he would not rest until he’d done it. A Monsignor Knox, back in the twenties, had compiled a list of subjects that could not be used in detective novels: dwarfs, Chinamen, etc. Ross saw that list somewhere, and immediately set out to write a detective novel about every one of those taboos: The Eighth Dwarf, Chinaman’s Chance, etc.”
“Draft after draft goes by, and the reporter in the bar becomes a photographer, the photographer becomes a pornographer, then the pornographer becomes the head of a pornography ring and the principle villain in the story, and by the time the film was made “Gary Salt” was the most evil guy in the movie and, yes, he did magruder children and animals. Gary took it philosophically, understanding by then that Ross couldn’t help it. I don’t know if Gary’s mother ever saw the movie; hope not.”
This is so Thomas, and moreover, so Westlake!
Now the story 1986, post Ferdinand Marcos, our protagonist, Booth Stallings, a 60 something “terrorist expert” is hired by a “business consortium” to lure a Filipino warlord out of hiding with a offer of $5 million, and safe haven in Hong Kong. The pitch: “If Espiritu comes down from the hills and exiles himself to Hong Kong, my people figure it’s eight to five that Madame Aquino can cut a deal with the NPA and keep on being President.” Stallings studied Harry Crites’ expression, looking for guile and deception, but finding only a crack salesman’s normal greed and unassailable confidence.” Booth: “If the NPA makes a deal with Aquino, they won‘t’ve won anything and they’ll’ve lost what power they had. It doesn’t work like that. Not in the Philippines. Not in Afghanistan. Not in El Salvador or Lebanon. Not in Peru. Not in the Basque country or Northern Ireland. Not anywhere.” “The blue eyes had come down with a chill and the wide joke-prone mouth had slipped from glad into grim. A faintly surprised Stallings realized that the son of a bitch didn’t like me—surprised not so much as the revelation as the surprise itself.” Cripes cares less about his knowledge and expertise, Stallings has been selected at the request of Al Espiritu for their history killing Japanese together 40 years prior. Claims he trusts Booth. Stallings is just a bag man in the deal. Blake’s fee a tidy $500,000, but he has other ideas… and four partners are acquired in the plan for a big score. Otherguy Overby, Artie Woo & Quincy Durant, quite the pair, and belatedly Georgia Blue, Cripes’ female body guard, and ex secret service, to watchdog the crew.
First Booth meets up with deal maker, con artist, now LA house sitter for a rock star drying out at the Betty Ford. Otherguy Overby by name…
Otherguy: “I figured it was you from what that son-in-law of yours told me over the phone. An old crock, he said, who’ll be wearing funny cheap clothes, a barber college haircut and walks with kind of a waltz. Hard to miss, he said.” Booth: “I just don’t much like dealing with anyone who needs to wear fifty-five thousand dollars worth of car.”
Overby started the engine, shifted into reverse, changed his mind, shifted back into park and stared at Booth Stallings. “What are you, Jack—some kind of act?”
Stallings smiled his smallest smile. “Didn’t that son-in-law of mine mention it? I do the old coot.”
“After I talked to him, what’s his name, Mott, I went down to the Malibu Library and checked out that book of yours, Anatomy of Terrorism.” “Anatomy of Terror,” Stallings said, unable to resist the correction.
“Yeah. Right. Well, I read it. Most of it, in fact, but then I quit about three-quarters through. Want to know why?” “Not really.” “Because I couldn’t figure out whose side you were on.”
“Good,” Booth Stallings said.”
Whose side everybody’s on is the central story. Booth and his foursome. The rebels, Al Espiritu, his “grand daughter”, correction wife Carmen, and sister Minnie. Not to mention, the local police, cons and officials, and our beloved CIA wise guys (Jack Cray & Weaver Jordan). Summed nicely by,
“If we know nothing about you,” he said slowly, “then you can’t know anything about us, can you? And you’d have no use for that promissory note or the photos.” “What a good boy,” said the beaming look that Artie Wu gave Jack Cray. Aloud, he said, “And thus we all arrive safely at the perfect stalemate.” “Otherwise known as mutual blackmail,” Durant said. “I like detente better,” Weaver Jordan said. Wu beamed again. “Then we’ll call it detente.”
Hovering over the Manila milieu: “It was the Rotary Club of Metro Cebu’s four-question billboard whose fourth question still wondered:
“Will it be BENEFICIAL to all concerned?”
It’s no wonder Mrs. Acquino didn’t stand a chance. Now you’ve had your taste, go read the book.