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Ed McBain concocts a brilliant and intricate thriller about a master criminal who haunts the city with cryptic passages from Shakespeare, directing the detectives of the 87th Precinct to a future crime -- if only they can figure out what he means. The 87th Precinct gets a visit from one of the city's most accomplished criminals -- a thief known as the Deaf Man. Because he might be deaf. Or he might not. So little is known about the man who is harassing Detective Steve Carella with puzzling messages that it is hard to tell. But as soon as a pattern emerges, the detectives of the 87th are forced to hit the books and brush up on their Shakespeare -- because each new clue contains a line from one of his works. Unless they can crack the complicated riddles and beat the Deaf Man at his own cat-and-mouse game, someone is going to end up hurt, or something will be stolen -- or both. It's always so hard to tell with the Deaf Man. Ed McBain brings his most intelligent and devious criminal back to the 87th Precinct with a richly plotted and literary crime.… (more)
User reviews
It’s probably important to state right away that I am a total newcomer to this series about the fictional 87th precinct. Ed McBain was a prolific crime writer until he passed away in 2005 and this seems to have been one of his most popular series, containing more than fifty books published over his lifetime. It’s based in New York City, which is rather thinly disguised, and focuses on a group of police officers, rather than one dark, brooding hero. Possibly, part of my underwhelmed reaction to the book is because there are so many references to events from other books that I hadn’t read. However, I think that this could stand alone as the case it deals with is resolved within the book; my dislike is more because I found events so unengaging.
In the opening chapter, the villain kills a double crossing ex partner in crime. As the detectives at the precinct try to solve the case, they quickly realise that the perpetrator is someone they have failed to arrest on several previous occasions and that he is in the process of organising another crime. How do they know this? Because the villain sends them typed notes on a more-than-daily basis informing them of his plans. Of course, this assistance could make their jobs a little too easy, so the villain writes in code: anagrams followed by Shakespearean references. As the date of the planned crime gets closer, the detectives continue to agonise over the mysterious clues – and their love lives. Can they solve the puzzle? Can they stop the crime? And might they finally catch the notorious Deaf Man?
My thoughts
I found it difficult to engage with this story from the very beginning. Something about the style unaccountably irked me. Take this example:
‘It was the shrug that told her he was going to kill her. Well, maybe that and the gun in his right hand. Plus the silencer screwed onto the muzzle of the gun. And their history. She knew he was not one to forget their history.’
Once again, I’m not really sure why I dislike it, I just do. I’m sure many people would find it gently comic, but it leaves me cold.
My next feelings are easier to explain as the characters spend two pages discussing exactly how much the woman, Gloria, stole from the Deaf Man. The long list of narcotics, prices and sales bored me immeasurably, although I suspect that it was once again intended to be comic. Furthermore, neither character seemed particularly likeable. Finally, I found Gloria’s complete lack of fear unbelievable: her conviction that offering sexual favours would prevent her old partner from shooting her seemed to come from a naivety that she simply did not possess. So much for chapter one then.
I’m afraid the rest of the book fared little better. A whole parade of detectives with messy personal lives are introduced and their stories develop alongside the main plot. I found their actions and motives believable to an extent, but the lack of quality time spent with each character meant that I didn’t care two hoots about them. In fact, some of them irritated me quite severely. (Surely police officers have more discipline than the newly dating couple who seem about to have steamy sex in their cop car?) I imagine that aficionados of the series would have much less of a problem here as they will presumably have grown to care about these characters over the past forty plus books. Personally, I found the diversions into their personal lives added little to my interest in the story. The only exception to this is the main detective, Steve Carella, who is distraught by the upcoming marriages of his sister and mother, but never does anything about it. His pain felt real, even though I could never fully appreciate it because I felt like I hadn’t been given a chance to bond with this character.
Worse, some characters are plain unlikeable. While it might be realistic to have cops who are so outwardly racist, and I suspect sadly that it is, I wanted them to be balanced by more thoughtful characters, rather than simply shown in all their glory. Fat Ollie, in particular, seems to be a great guy, despite his general antipathy to anyone of a different race. I suspect that his budding relationship with Patricia Gomez is meant to go some way towards showing that his views are changeable, but McBain’s focus on comedy rather than morality means that the overall impression is simply that this is a brutal city full of largely ignorant men.
Now, this is not necessarily a failing of the book: the depiction didn’t appeal to me but I live in nice, tidy suburbs and the most danger I’m likely to fall into is getting batted on the shin by a wafting crisp packet. It may be that I just can’t empathise with such a different place and mode of living. Certainly, the darkness of the place and many of the characters works to create an atmosphere of grime and futility.
Meanwhile, the clues and their exploration lack a certain credibility. It is never really explained why the Deaf Man is spending so much time setting up these complicated clues. The notion that he wants to play with the detectives just didn’t seem motivation enough for someone who could straightforwardly shoot another person for simple revenge.
Then, McBain tried to bring the story into the 21st century by involving Google (although, of course, it is a child who handles this task, as we all know that adults are computer illiterate!) Unfortunately, this plot device is thinner than a wisp of cloud: I googled a couple of phrases from the key passage and discovered the source in less than a minute. The officers spend most of the book trying to achieve this find, despite having the World Wide Web at their fingertips. Furthermore, I’m no expert on police procedure or budgets, but surely, given the importance they invested in these clues, they could have called in a Shakespeare scholar? Or just contacted any local university English department? The more I write about it, the more it seems like a terribly minor criticism, but the apparent inability of these officers to source one famous quotation frustrated me greatly. Ok, so these are touch inner city cops, but that doesn’t mean that their discussions about Shakespeare should be limited to ‘amusing’ confusions over why he can’t spell.
Complaints aside, this is a police procedural written by one of the earliest masters of the form, and the steps the police take are tracked clearly throughout. As in all good crime novels, the reader is given enough information to be slightly ahead of the game – sometimes even too far ahead: I wanted to scream ‘ANAGRAM! ANAGRAM! IT’S AN ANAGRAM YOU FOOLS!’ long before the cops discovered the Deaf Man’s party trick. There are no unbelievable twists and the ending, despite its surprisingly calm conclusion, nicely ties off the story.
Conclusions
If I hadn’t been reading this for my book group, I probably wouldn’t have bothered reading more than the opening two chapters. I found the plot dragged on, the notes were irritating, and most of the characters were unlikeable. I would have preferred greater time spent on characterisation, especially of the villain, and less time listening to the officers attempting to decode the notes.
However, I think that it matches the requirements of a police procedural and will likely be greatly enjoyed by fans of the series who don’t mind the slightly slow pace created by all the notes.
As Ed McBain he published 55 books about the 87th precinct in a city that is never named, but is obviously New York thinly disguised: Isola is his name for the borough of Manhattan, Riverhead for Brooklyn, Majesta for Queens. There’s a big hospital called Buenavista instead of Bellevue, and so on. Cop Hater was the first of these books in 1956. My favorites are Sadie When She Died, the 26th of the series, published in 1972, and Hark! which came out last year and will be the next to the last of the 87th precinct books; McBain had finished another before he died and it will be published later this year as Learning to Kill.
McBain’s main character is Steve Carella, whose family is always on his mind; between Sadie and Hark! his father dies and in the later book his mother remarries. The reader finds out what’s on Carella’s mind, and in each book several other story lines are followed besides the crime investigation. Often these are romances, going well or badly, of other detectives in the squad and sometimes a cop from a neighboring precinct.
Sadie When She Died is about a victim who lived a double life, Sarah Fletcher the respectable housewife and Sadie Collins, who picked up men in singles bars. Carella and the others know that the husband killed her, but the problem is to prove it. Eventually they do.
Hark! gives us story lines about Carella, Detectives Bert Kling and Cotton Hawes of the 87th, and Oliver Wendell Weeks, or Ollie, a detective from the 88th. Here also we have a caper story involving The Deaf Man, a clever criminal who hints at his plans by sending notes to Carella that contain quotes from Shakespeare and word games such as anagrams and palindromes.
McBain is sometimes considered the originator of the American police procedural, but that honor really belongs to Lawrence Treat and Hillary Waugh, who published in the 40s and early 50s. What McBain did do was show big city police work as a cumulative, team effort, while he invented characters who were interesting and funny. And the large number of his books means you can probably find one there you like.
If you came at his novels from this end you'd be simply astonished, but it makes sense (sort of) when you read him from the other direction. There's a large part of it that's tradition. His worst novels, and some are real stinkers, are those where he tries too hard to update, to be hip and modern. I don't mean that he's introducing technology (which he's never seemed interested in) but rather swamping his narrative with dark sexuality and violence (usually together) which was hinted at in the early novels but never made so explicit. Perhaps it was his natural style all along and the editors used to hold him back in less 'liberal' times.
This one, 'Hark' is the best of some very mediocre stories of the 87th Precinct series put out in recent years, partly because its part of a a story arc involving the 'Deaf Man' that is nearly fifty years in the making. Back in the 60's and 70's McBain did this very well. But compared to the early 'Deaf Man' novels this one is sluggish and unimaginative, and I'd add 'laboured'. It's definitely an 'old times sake' kind of thing. You know things are crook when Ollie Weeks - a parody - is the only really interesting character in the book. I can't recommend any of the later McBain, but the early ones are interesting - as sort of historical 'objects', and if you start reading those you might end up here. In which case I'd observe that at least 'Hark' isn't one of those that I'd urge you at all costs to avoid.
Meanwhile, Carella faces the remarriages of his mother and sister on the same day. Other detectives also face problems in their relationships that put a train on how they work the case.
Creating the many anagrams and working in the many quotations so that they were mysterious to the reader as well as the detectives must have taken McBain a lot of time. He does give credit to Daniel Starer for assistance with this aspect of the novel.
As an aside, Fat Ollie finds his stolen novel and has also fallen in love.
We get a little revenge, lots of Shakespeare and palindromes, a double wedding, and two relationships on the rocks. Oh, and the Deaf Man’s latest scheme! Toward the end, he leaves a message for the 87th:
“I’LL BE SEEING YOU, BOYS!”
Sadly, with the passing of the author, no, no he won’t. Sniff, sniff. :(
I'm really gonna miss this rivalry...
Given the zip code, the fictional city of Isola where this book is set should be in Georgia, but the description sounds definitely Northern big city, very reminiscent of New York City, in fact, where McBain was born and raised. So reminiscent, I really don't get the point of creating this alternate city.
I got bogged down halfway through, realized I found this a chore and stopped. So I won't be looking for more books in the series.