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Bill Crane #4
The Dead Don't Care
In sun-soaked Florida, Crane pursues a kidnapper in between drinks
It does not take much to lure Bill Crane to Florida in the wintertime. The weather would be temptation enough, but the fact that there is money to be made and gin to be drunk makes a trip to Key Largo irresistible. His ever-soused companion, Doc Williams, at his side, Crane sets out south to find out who has been threatening millionaire playboy Penn Essex with blackmail notes, first on his pillow, then in his wallet, demanding $50,000—“or else.” But as Crane soon learns, the threat is not to Penn, but to his sister.
When beautiful young Camelia is kidnapped, Crane and Doc look for traitors inside the family circle. Lurching from cocktail hour to cocktail hour, they will do everything they can to find the missing girl, knowing that murderers—and hangovers—could strike at any moment.
It does not take much to lure Bill Crane to Florida in the wintertime. The weather would be temptation enough, but the fact that there is money to be made and gin to be drunk makes a trip to Key Largo irresistible. His ever-soused companion, Doc Williams, at his side, Crane sets out south to find out who has been threatening millionaire playboy Penn Essex with blackmail notes, first on his pillow, then in his wallet, demanding $50,000—“or else.” But as Crane soon learns, the threat is not to Penn, but to his sister.
When beautiful young Camelia is kidnapped, Crane and Doc look for traitors inside the family circle. Lurching from cocktail hour to cocktail hour, they will do everything they can to find the missing girl, knowing that murderers—and hangovers—could strike at any moment.
- GenresMystery
261 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1938
About the author
Jonathan Latimer
58 books33 followersJonathan Latimer was born in Chicago on 23rd October 1906. His main series character was the private investigator Bill Crane. An important character in the development of the hard boiled genre. A notable title is Solomon's Vineyard, the controversy over the content saw the US publication delayed by nine years. The author later concentrated on screen plays and also worked for five years on the Perry Mason television series.
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Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews
February 22, 2019
As usual, this Bill Crane mystery is filled with wisecracks and marathon booze sessions, but it is also a little more serious and just a bit darker than the previous ones, and I think the book is all the better for it.
The Mayan dancer and former agent of the Cuban Secret Police Imago Paraquay is a memorable creation, and--after the shipboard shoot-out--the whole thing concludes with a satisfying solution to a "locked-room" puzzle.
The Mayan dancer and former agent of the Cuban Secret Police Imago Paraquay is a memorable creation, and--after the shipboard shoot-out--the whole thing concludes with a satisfying solution to a "locked-room" puzzle.
August 4, 2024
Like a chocolate covered pretzel, Latimer strikes quite a compelling and entertaining balance of opposites here. The story is an entertaining "locked room" whodunit kidnapping/murder hardboiled mystery with a brisk pace. It's quite serious and even dark, despite some of the screwball antics and frequent wisecracking. The amount of alcohol consumed by Crane and his partner is simply absurd, though it hardly seems to impact their sleuthing skills for the worse. Quite the opposite in fact, though perhaps explains their overwhelming cynicism and seeming apathy.
September 24, 2024
How something first published in 1938 ended up on my kindle is quite possibly the biggest mystery here. But my sunny, hot vacation seemed a perfect time to read a mystery set in sunny, hot Florida, you know, really immersing myself in the mood. Perhaps not the best of ideas; the frequent complaints by the characters (not me), mopping of brows (also not me), and dips in the ocean (definitely me) only reminded me how hot it was in real life (94F, if you were wondering). It was, perhaps, too much. Too much heat, too much time period, too much early noir.
Latimer describes his characters in terms of physical details and clothes, and as per the time, one is supposed to gain insight into their characters.
"The Irishman looked very fine in a Burma-colored dinner jacket, black trousers, a white silk shirt with a dark green bow tie, a dark green cummerbund and dark green silk hose."
Women get the added descriptive bonus of fuckability:
"Her figure, small, sharply breasted, slender as a lotus plant, was virginal."
Much is made of the continual drinking habits of Bill Crane, PI, and Doc Williams, his sidekick.
“'How are you going to spend it?'
Crane thought for a moment. 'I think I’ll go on a bender.'
'I’d like to know what you’ve been doing for the last six years.'
'Just warming up.'”
It actually reminded me a great deal of early Robert B. Parker's Spenser series with the meticulous description of clothes and body structure. Very concrete, very visual. The dialogue, however, is completely cavalier, and if you take Crane's words at face value, you'd assume he was the worst detective ever.
"He always preferred to pursue his occupation as a detective in luxurious surroundings among rich, congenial people. One of the troubles with crime was its prevalence among criminals."
It does have moments of dazzling beauty:
The water was luke-cold; the morning sun was warm. Where it was deep there was no surf and the waves came in like great wrinkles in a bedspread, gently lifting them on rounded bulges, then lowering them into hollows."
"They cruised across a crème-de-menthe ocean under a sky so brilliantly blue it hurt their eyes."
Which, yes. The mystery is confusing; they are hired to find out who has been threatening a millionaire playboy whose interests consist of women, fast cars, and gambling. The approach to solving this issue is languid, almost indifferent, and it isn't until another event happens that things really seem to get underway. When someone is killed, the characters--and plot--finally gain focus. Ultimately, it was interesting, and probably would have been much more enjoyable without the casual and frequent -isms. As it was, I'll probably stick with more modern versions, including a needed reread of The Last Good Kiss.
Two and half gin and tonics, rounding up because who drinks a half?
Latimer describes his characters in terms of physical details and clothes, and as per the time, one is supposed to gain insight into their characters.
"The Irishman looked very fine in a Burma-colored dinner jacket, black trousers, a white silk shirt with a dark green bow tie, a dark green cummerbund and dark green silk hose."
Women get the added descriptive bonus of fuckability:
"Her figure, small, sharply breasted, slender as a lotus plant, was virginal."
Much is made of the continual drinking habits of Bill Crane, PI, and Doc Williams, his sidekick.
“'How are you going to spend it?'
Crane thought for a moment. 'I think I’ll go on a bender.'
'I’d like to know what you’ve been doing for the last six years.'
'Just warming up.'”
It actually reminded me a great deal of early Robert B. Parker's Spenser series with the meticulous description of clothes and body structure. Very concrete, very visual. The dialogue, however, is completely cavalier, and if you take Crane's words at face value, you'd assume he was the worst detective ever.
"He always preferred to pursue his occupation as a detective in luxurious surroundings among rich, congenial people. One of the troubles with crime was its prevalence among criminals."
It does have moments of dazzling beauty:
The water was luke-cold; the morning sun was warm. Where it was deep there was no surf and the waves came in like great wrinkles in a bedspread, gently lifting them on rounded bulges, then lowering them into hollows."
"They cruised across a crème-de-menthe ocean under a sky so brilliantly blue it hurt their eyes."
Which, yes. The mystery is confusing; they are hired to find out who has been threatening a millionaire playboy whose interests consist of women, fast cars, and gambling. The approach to solving this issue is languid, almost indifferent, and it isn't until another event happens that things really seem to get underway. When someone is killed, the characters--and plot--finally gain focus. Ultimately, it was interesting, and probably would have been much more enjoyable without the casual and frequent -isms. As it was, I'll probably stick with more modern versions, including a needed reread of The Last Good Kiss.
Two and half gin and tonics, rounding up because who drinks a half?
May 2, 2017
The 4th or 5th entry in Jonathan Latimer's alcoholic detective Bill Crane series.
This is the 4th Jonathan Latimer novel I've read and it's every bit as great as the other novels.
If you haven't read anything by Jonathan Latimer you're only hurting yourself.
This is the 4th Jonathan Latimer novel I've read and it's every bit as great as the other novels.
If you haven't read anything by Jonathan Latimer you're only hurting yourself.
July 16, 2025
Latimer was originally a journalist with the Chicago Herald Examiner and the Chicago Tribune. He became best known for writing his five novel William Crane series from 1935 to 1939, Murder in the Madhouse, Headed for a Hearse, the Lady in the Morgue, The Dead Don’t Care, and Red Gardenias. He put out four more fiction novels, the Search for My Great Uncle’s Head, Solomon’s Vineyard, Sinners and Shrouds, and Black is the Fashion for Dying. He wrote at least 21 motion picture screenplays from 1939 to 1972 and 32 episodes of the Perry Mason television series.
In “The Dead Don’t Care,” we get a pair of fun-loving private detectives, William Crane and Tom O’Malley, who are not above spending an afternoon lying in the sun and drinking away. The two of them feed off of each other’s humor. Crane “belonged to the pleasure school of crime detection, anyway. He never found that a little relaxation hindered him in his work. His best ideas came while he was relaxed. However, it was hard to make a client see this.”
The setting is a mansion in Key West, Florida, where, as the opening lines tell us, “Sunset splashed gold paint on the windows of the white marble house, brought out apricots and pinks and salmons in the flowering azaleas.” Below the house, one can see a large patio filled with small palms, clumps of flowers, a white swimming pool, and a “magnificent beach of ash-blond sand.” The Essex Estate in Key Largo is in many ways a magnificent splendor of paradise and Crane, we are told, “always preferred to pursue his occupation as a detective in luxurious surroundings among rich, congenial people. One of the troubles with crime was its prevalence among criminals.”
There were two heirs to the Essex fortune, 25-year-old Penn, with a penchant for fast cars, chorus girls, and breach-of-promise suits, and 23-year old Camelia, who had tried to elope to Peru with a self-styled Count of the Holy Roman Empire. The attorneys for the Union Trust controlled the fortune and thereby controlled the two overgrown kids.
The case that they are investigating is a series of mysterious letters signed only by “THE EYE.” The letters were found in Penn’s wallet, on his nightstand and pinned to his pillow at the Waldorf and demanded $50,000 in unmarked bills to pay “his debt.” Curiously, Crane also becomes a recipient of such correspondence from “THE EYE” calling them “Messrs Flatfeet” as well as at one point wakes up in bed in the house with a beautiful naked corpse and no idea what happened except that the murderer made off with his trousers, which were later returned cleaned and pressed. The notes though culminate in a kidnapping of Camelia, the pay-off of a ransom and stolen under the noses of an entire police force.
Latimer manages in this novel to offer a pair of detectives who do not take their work too seriously, but still manage to solve the crimes presented to them.
In “The Dead Don’t Care,” we get a pair of fun-loving private detectives, William Crane and Tom O’Malley, who are not above spending an afternoon lying in the sun and drinking away. The two of them feed off of each other’s humor. Crane “belonged to the pleasure school of crime detection, anyway. He never found that a little relaxation hindered him in his work. His best ideas came while he was relaxed. However, it was hard to make a client see this.”
The setting is a mansion in Key West, Florida, where, as the opening lines tell us, “Sunset splashed gold paint on the windows of the white marble house, brought out apricots and pinks and salmons in the flowering azaleas.” Below the house, one can see a large patio filled with small palms, clumps of flowers, a white swimming pool, and a “magnificent beach of ash-blond sand.” The Essex Estate in Key Largo is in many ways a magnificent splendor of paradise and Crane, we are told, “always preferred to pursue his occupation as a detective in luxurious surroundings among rich, congenial people. One of the troubles with crime was its prevalence among criminals.”
There were two heirs to the Essex fortune, 25-year-old Penn, with a penchant for fast cars, chorus girls, and breach-of-promise suits, and 23-year old Camelia, who had tried to elope to Peru with a self-styled Count of the Holy Roman Empire. The attorneys for the Union Trust controlled the fortune and thereby controlled the two overgrown kids.
The case that they are investigating is a series of mysterious letters signed only by “THE EYE.” The letters were found in Penn’s wallet, on his nightstand and pinned to his pillow at the Waldorf and demanded $50,000 in unmarked bills to pay “his debt.” Curiously, Crane also becomes a recipient of such correspondence from “THE EYE” calling them “Messrs Flatfeet” as well as at one point wakes up in bed in the house with a beautiful naked corpse and no idea what happened except that the murderer made off with his trousers, which were later returned cleaned and pressed. The notes though culminate in a kidnapping of Camelia, the pay-off of a ransom and stolen under the noses of an entire police force.
Latimer manages in this novel to offer a pair of detectives who do not take their work too seriously, but still manage to solve the crimes presented to them.
February 20, 2008
Overall, one of Latimer's best: a highly soused, comedic romp through Key Largo as Crane and Doc Williams team up once more to get madly drunk and only kind-of solve the mystery of a kidnapped girl and the $50,000 ransom note. This is definitely the bridge between Latimer's screwball mysteries (epitomized by The Lady in the Morgue) and the amoral and decadent existentialism of Solomon's Vineyard. Here is a highly evocative passage that captures William Crane's detachedness from the case, something completely atypical for detectives of the time: "He thought about Camelia Essex. It was a hell of a note, but what could you do? If you were too smart the kidnaper [sic] would become frightened and kill the girl. It didn't make much difference to him, as the penalty for kidnaping [sic] and murder is the same." Crane's cynical worldview is perhaps matched only by the characters in Paul Cain's "Fast One" or any of the stories in his "Seven Slayers," particularly "Black" in which a detective-like figure gets involved in a intra-gang war and plays both ends against the middle. But what distinguishes Latimer is his sense of humor (Crane awakens not only to find a corpse in his room, but also that the murderer stole his trousers as well) but the desire for an all-consuming pleasure (achieved primarily through drinking "double triple scotches") that takes the place of most detective's moral center. Whereas Marlowe wants to be chivalrous, Crane wants to get drunk; Spade's actions are dictated by a code that says one must avenge his partner's death, while Crane went where the booze was. "He always preferred to pursue his occupation as a detective in luxurious surroundings among rich, congenial people. One of the troubles with crime was its prevalence among criminals," sums up Crane's detective ethics.
April 5, 2012
AVOID the NoExit Press reprint of THE DEAD DON'T CARE. Whoever was responsible for publishing this edition removed key scenes, edited out all references to lesbianism, and even changed Crane's sidekick O'Malley's name! I couldn't believe it!
I checked the NoExit Press version of HALO FOR SATAN against the original, and there were no changes made.
I checked the NoExit Press version of HALO FOR SATAN against the original, and there were no changes made.
February 12, 2021
The fourth and penultimate Bill Crane novel finds Crane and his fellow detectives in Florida to deal with a blackmail case that turns in to a kidnapping. As usual with the Bill Crane books this is a mash-up of hardboiled with a locked door mystery. As usual there is a lot of booze and a lot of wisecracks as well as casual racism and misogny (it was 1938). The change in setting to Miami and the Florida Keys shakes things up from the northern big city rut.
The Bill Crane books have generally been good second-tier hardboiled novels with more humor. This is a good entry.
The Bill Crane books have generally been good second-tier hardboiled novels with more humor. This is a good entry.
July 23, 2012
Jonathan Latimer managed to do something unusual and wonderful: he made hard-boiled mysteries that were funny. Not dry and witty like John Dickson Carr and Hammet in the Thin Man series, but rather bawdy and loopy and sometimes laugh-out-loud funny. "Murder In The Madhouse," "Solomon's Vineyard," and "The Dead Don't Care" are three of his best.
Latimer's characters occasionally refer to booze as "panther spit." If you think that's funny, you'll probably like Latimer.
Latimer's characters occasionally refer to booze as "panther spit." If you think that's funny, you'll probably like Latimer.
June 2, 2019
I didn't like this very much. The two previous Bill Crane mysteries I read were OK (3 stars) but this one seems to accentuate the things I didn't like in the other stories. The writing seems padded, as if Latimer was getting paid by the word and wanted to include as many as possible. The wisecracking banter between Crane and O'Malley feel flat most of the time. The excessive use of alcohol didn't give the humorous titillation that you got from Nick & Nora over-imbibing. The plot was complicated and developed too slowly through the first 3/4 of the book although it did pick up a little at the end. The writing was overly descriptive and I started to get tired of hearing the details about the furniture, the closthes (especially the women's) and even the food they ate. Chandler could do this well but Latimer is obviously no Chandler. The characters weren't that interesting including the "exotic" Imago. Crane and O'Malley were even less interesting that in entries #2 and #3. Crane dawdles along without accomplishing much and then makes great leaps of intuition at the end to wrap up the mystery. I was tempted several times to just give up and move on to a Craig Rice or Day Keene novel I have waiting on my Kindle.
March 12, 2008
The Dead don't care, and neither do I.
January 2, 2025
Hey, kids! Looking for a career where you don't have to do a lot of reading? Maybe you can write book blurbs for on-line retailers.
The book description tells us that P.I. Bill Crane is in sunny Florida, trying to solve crimes while drinking himself into an early grave with his sidekick Doc Williams. WRONG! The story IS set in southern Florida and Crane does plenty of elbow-bending, but Doc Williams plays a very small role.
The agency sends Tom O'Malley with Crane to the Essex estate to find out who's writing threatening notes to playboy Penn Essex. The operatives are, after all, posing as friends of Essex. O'Malley is plenty tough, but he's a tall, well-built guy who looks good in evening dress and even better in swim trunks.
Penn Essex and younger sister Camelia have inherited a fortune, neatly tied up in trusts. They get generous monthly allowances, although Penn is always strapped for cash. He owes a local casino a bundle, but claims the owner isn't trying to collect. Crane is suspicious about a casino owner who politely forgets that gamblers owe him money. Most want their dough. NOW!
Meanwhile, Camelia is determined to marry a handsome European "count" whose claim to a title is as shaky as his bank balance. The middle-aged trustee who handles the Essex money wants to save the innocent young heiress from fortune-hunters. Gossip is he's hoping to marry her (and her money) himself.
Penn has hired the agency to find out who's threatening him with death if he doesn't cough up $50,000. Every time he reaches into his pocket he pulls out another nasty note. He's understandably nervous about them. Crane and O'Malley move in and start investigating, but they aren't sure if it's a serious case or not. What criminal mastermind writes death threats signed "The Eye"?
Still, it IS eerie that the notes keep popping up in Essex's pockets. Or on his pillow. Or next to his morning orange juice. One of the houseguests playing a joke or a real criminal gang with an inside helper?
When young Camelia is kidnapped, it's obvious "The Eye" means business. The ransom notes demand $50,000. (There's that number again.) The estate is prepared to hand over the money, but everyone knows there's little chance of Camelia being released alive. Why would kidnappers release a victim who can identify them when they already have the loot?
Crane and O'Malley are pushed aside as local, state, and federal cops take over, but Crane keeps gnawing at the problem. As first one then another suspect is eliminated, he realizes that only one person could have planned the crime and carried it out. Now if he can convince the professionals and figure out a way to find Camelia before the kidnappers kill her.
I didn't enjoy this one as much as I did the two books set in Chicago. Florida in the 1930's was lush and unspoiled and would have seemed like paradise on earth to a Chicago native like Latimer. The breathless descriptions of sunshine and water and tropical foliage take up WAY too much space. Unless the Miami Chamber of Commerce was paying him by the word, a brief setting of the scene is all we need.
The Chicago books have a nice balance of high-class and gritty characters. This one is all the rich Essex family and their servants and hangers-on. The kidnappers are sub-human, but they make a very late appearance. And the humor that made Latimer famous as the writer of "zany" mysteries is almost completely missing.
It's OK, but a disappointing end to this short series. Now I'm on to the stand-alone mysteries and I hope they will restore my faith in this fine writer.
The book description tells us that P.I. Bill Crane is in sunny Florida, trying to solve crimes while drinking himself into an early grave with his sidekick Doc Williams. WRONG! The story IS set in southern Florida and Crane does plenty of elbow-bending, but Doc Williams plays a very small role.
The agency sends Tom O'Malley with Crane to the Essex estate to find out who's writing threatening notes to playboy Penn Essex. The operatives are, after all, posing as friends of Essex. O'Malley is plenty tough, but he's a tall, well-built guy who looks good in evening dress and even better in swim trunks.
Penn Essex and younger sister Camelia have inherited a fortune, neatly tied up in trusts. They get generous monthly allowances, although Penn is always strapped for cash. He owes a local casino a bundle, but claims the owner isn't trying to collect. Crane is suspicious about a casino owner who politely forgets that gamblers owe him money. Most want their dough. NOW!
Meanwhile, Camelia is determined to marry a handsome European "count" whose claim to a title is as shaky as his bank balance. The middle-aged trustee who handles the Essex money wants to save the innocent young heiress from fortune-hunters. Gossip is he's hoping to marry her (and her money) himself.
Penn has hired the agency to find out who's threatening him with death if he doesn't cough up $50,000. Every time he reaches into his pocket he pulls out another nasty note. He's understandably nervous about them. Crane and O'Malley move in and start investigating, but they aren't sure if it's a serious case or not. What criminal mastermind writes death threats signed "The Eye"?
Still, it IS eerie that the notes keep popping up in Essex's pockets. Or on his pillow. Or next to his morning orange juice. One of the houseguests playing a joke or a real criminal gang with an inside helper?
When young Camelia is kidnapped, it's obvious "The Eye" means business. The ransom notes demand $50,000. (There's that number again.) The estate is prepared to hand over the money, but everyone knows there's little chance of Camelia being released alive. Why would kidnappers release a victim who can identify them when they already have the loot?
Crane and O'Malley are pushed aside as local, state, and federal cops take over, but Crane keeps gnawing at the problem. As first one then another suspect is eliminated, he realizes that only one person could have planned the crime and carried it out. Now if he can convince the professionals and figure out a way to find Camelia before the kidnappers kill her.
I didn't enjoy this one as much as I did the two books set in Chicago. Florida in the 1930's was lush and unspoiled and would have seemed like paradise on earth to a Chicago native like Latimer. The breathless descriptions of sunshine and water and tropical foliage take up WAY too much space. Unless the Miami Chamber of Commerce was paying him by the word, a brief setting of the scene is all we need.
The Chicago books have a nice balance of high-class and gritty characters. This one is all the rich Essex family and their servants and hangers-on. The kidnappers are sub-human, but they make a very late appearance. And the humor that made Latimer famous as the writer of "zany" mysteries is almost completely missing.
It's OK, but a disappointing end to this short series. Now I'm on to the stand-alone mysteries and I hope they will restore my faith in this fine writer.
April 5, 2025
As noted by Still and others in Goodreads this Crane series by Jonathan Latimore is madcap, high-low humor, and moreover very well written. Book 4, finds Bill Crane, and fellow dick —O’Malley, out of NYC, and down to Miami, aka Tamiami, to get to the bottom of anonymous threats and extortion of rich Percy Essex…
Arrival. “SUNSET SPLASHED gold paint on the windows of the white marble house, brought out apricots and pinks and salmons in the flowering azaleas. Two pink flamingos slowly approached the roadster from the fountain. They walked with rheumatic dignity; moving their stiltlike legs deliberately, carrying their heads at an inquiring angle. Their eyes were like highly polished waistcoat buttons.” Not an Elmore Leonard intro… but pretty pretty nice…
The Cuban mystery lady. “Imago Paraguay slipped a cold hand in Crane’s, let it remain there. Crane experienced a mingled sensation of desire and repulsion. He had never felt that way before. — later-
“patrician in an exotic way, with almond-shaped eyes, faintly arched eyebrows, slight hollows under the high cheekbones. It reminded Crane of the painted death mask of an Egyptian princess he had once seen in a Berlin museum. He had gone into the museum thinking it was his hotel.” — Like the way he explains Crane’s appearance in a Berlin museum to the reader, while also dropping an element of foreshadowing.
Sustenance. “There’s some port in the dashboard compartment,” said Essex. “I’m afraid it’s California port, though.” “Any port in a storm,” said Crane.” — “They both felt fine. The liquor they had drunk before and at lunch had mostly been eliminated by the sun and the water and the swimming and all that was left was a pleasant feeling and a mild desire for more liquor” — and then it’s on to the double triple scotches—
A dick’s view on the different between Murderers & Kidnappers. “There was rarely any personal feeling, but if there was, he thought, it was more often favorable to the murderer. So many corpses had it coming to them. In kidnaping— The victim was suffering and would continue to suffer until released, and stood a very good chance of being murdered besides. There was a great urgency...”
Much urgency, but plenty of languorous entertainment follows, amongst drinks, and final resolution to the caper… all amidst the Floridian setting— “in a navy-blue sky, hung a three-quarter moon. The milky light outlined shapes, made everything appear black and white, as in a photographic negative. The wind was sweet and lazy; it sighed through the palms and spread the odors of night-blooming moonflowers and jasmine.”
Time to drink that $9 grand, and then on to the next one…
Arrival. “SUNSET SPLASHED gold paint on the windows of the white marble house, brought out apricots and pinks and salmons in the flowering azaleas. Two pink flamingos slowly approached the roadster from the fountain. They walked with rheumatic dignity; moving their stiltlike legs deliberately, carrying their heads at an inquiring angle. Their eyes were like highly polished waistcoat buttons.” Not an Elmore Leonard intro… but pretty pretty nice…
The Cuban mystery lady. “Imago Paraguay slipped a cold hand in Crane’s, let it remain there. Crane experienced a mingled sensation of desire and repulsion. He had never felt that way before. — later-
“patrician in an exotic way, with almond-shaped eyes, faintly arched eyebrows, slight hollows under the high cheekbones. It reminded Crane of the painted death mask of an Egyptian princess he had once seen in a Berlin museum. He had gone into the museum thinking it was his hotel.” — Like the way he explains Crane’s appearance in a Berlin museum to the reader, while also dropping an element of foreshadowing.
Sustenance. “There’s some port in the dashboard compartment,” said Essex. “I’m afraid it’s California port, though.” “Any port in a storm,” said Crane.” — “They both felt fine. The liquor they had drunk before and at lunch had mostly been eliminated by the sun and the water and the swimming and all that was left was a pleasant feeling and a mild desire for more liquor” — and then it’s on to the double triple scotches—
A dick’s view on the different between Murderers & Kidnappers. “There was rarely any personal feeling, but if there was, he thought, it was more often favorable to the murderer. So many corpses had it coming to them. In kidnaping— The victim was suffering and would continue to suffer until released, and stood a very good chance of being murdered besides. There was a great urgency...”
Much urgency, but plenty of languorous entertainment follows, amongst drinks, and final resolution to the caper… all amidst the Floridian setting— “in a navy-blue sky, hung a three-quarter moon. The milky light outlined shapes, made everything appear black and white, as in a photographic negative. The wind was sweet and lazy; it sighed through the palms and spread the odors of night-blooming moonflowers and jasmine.”
Time to drink that $9 grand, and then on to the next one…
September 16, 2017
pretty good a bit similar to Murder In The Madhouse. unfortunately the murderer was all too obvious. shame.
September 12, 2025
Fun, interesting plot but not one of Latimer’s better ones.
August 23, 2012
Jonathan Latimer is a cut below Hammett, but one of the greatest of the hard-boiled writers of the 1930s. His detectives would always rather drink and chase women than work, which always seemed a bit more realistic to me than Chandler's Marlowe with his solitary habits. Headed for a Hearse is better than Latimer's supposed classic, Solomon's Vineyard, and rivals Paul Cain's A Fast One for sheer punch.
October 15, 2014
Terrible. Too much alcohol and pretentious descriptions. The characters are utterly unbelievable and the plot gothic. If you like Block's Scudder or Lowry's Volcano you'd like this.For myself, it'll be a long while before I'll try Latimer again.
August 10, 2016
Cette première expérience avec Jonathan Latimar n'était pas vraiment au top. Il n'y a rien d'exceptionnel dans l'histoire.
March 6, 2016
This book is so without the grit and awesomeness of The Fifth Grave, that I started to wonder if The Fifth Grave wasn't as gritty and awesome as I thought.
Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews