I'm a sucker for detectives who are throwbacks to the original hardboiled PIs—in fact, I stayed up late last night to watch a black and white Mike Hammer TV show. If the title of this one doesn't tip you off that this one would suit me, the cover artwork certainly would: a fedora-topped chisel-faced man, cigarette in mouth, stands in a dark alley.
Sean Sean narrates his story in the parlance of old, "You see, I'm a throwback. I'm passé, out of date, a lost cause. The world is no longer interested in me and my kind. I'm no longer needed. Or so they say." Thus, I was hooked on the first page.
Sean's cases are strictly contemporary, but his self-deprecating style reminds me of the 25¢ Pocket paperbacks I adored. The story is sound. The red herrings abound. But my favorite part of the book was the trip down memory lane.
Thank you, Carl Brookins, for taking me back!
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