THE BRIBE. MGM, 1949. Robert Taylor, Ava Gardner, Charles Laughton, Vincent Price, John Hodiak, John Hoyt, Samuel S. Hinds. Screenplay by Marguerite Roberts, based on a story by Frederick Nebel (Cosmopolitan, September 1947). Director: Robert Z. Leonard.

   This slick, well done film noir with a top notch cast may not be one of the greats of the genre, but it is an intelligent and handsomely done film with a top notch cast in attractive locations, plus a wonderfully sleazy portrayal by Charles Laughton as an opportunistic coward who almost lifts the movie far above itself.

   Robert Taylor is Rigby (“I never knew a crooked road could look so straight.”), a tough emotionally remote and cold hearted Federal agent sent to Central America to track down surplus WW II airplane parts that have gone missing (*) and are showing up places the government would rather they didn’t.

   Rigby’s only clue is the suspect Tugwell ‘Tug’ Hintten (John Hodiak) and his night club chanteuse wife Elizabeth (Ava Gardner), so he moves in on the couple and especially Gardner hoping to get close enough to find Hintten’s contacts.

   But Rigby’s carefully polished armor begins to tarnish and show cracks under the powerful appeal of Elizabeth and the sensual tropical atmosphere.

   He discovers that there is more than one kind of bribe when he realizes that Hintten and the man behind him are using Elizabeth and the promise she offers to distract him and get him to turn his gaze away from their activities.

   Laughton is an expatriate, J. J. Beale, who attaches himself to Rigby like a leech, both gathering and selling information. It’s a superb little performance that stands out in this dark sweaty melodrama.

   Vincent Price is Cardwell, a tourist who may be more involved than he seems. Not a great performance, but at the time Price specialized in these roles and did them with rare skill, and over the years Price played enough variations that you couldn’t always count on how his character would turn out, even when you were certain you knew going in.

   As Rigby grows more attracted to Elizabeth he is caught between his mission, her distrust of him. and the still open question of whether she is a victim or part of the plot. How loyal is she to Tug, her husband, and how far will she go to protect him even if she no longer loves him?

   As Rigby gets closer to Elizabeth, and to betraying his mission for her, circumstances grow more desperate, and Tug begins to unravel under the pressure of his crimes and his dissolving marriage becoming a danger to his partners.

   The finale is a fine set piece set during Carnival, with a suspenseful and well staged shootout among the surging celebrating crowds in elaborate costumes. (Ironically it may remind you of a similar scene in Hodiak’s film Two Smart People set at Mardi Gras.)

   The Bribe is based on one of the few crime stories written by Black Mask alumnus Fred Nebel for the slicks, where he labored with notable success after the pulps died out as a regular along with Doc Savage creator Lester Dent.

   (At the time the ‘slicks,’ as magazines such as The Saturday Evening Post and Colliers were called, actually paid better than selling a novel. Many writers works are largely lost to us since the major part of their output appeared in novella or novelette form in these now forgotten magazines, too long to be collected in most anthologies and too short to be published as a novel. As a result many highly successful writers are all but forgotten today because of the format and the market their work appeared in.)

   I admit I probably like this slick little noir film much better than it deserves. It is only superficial noir, lacking the raw qualities of many of the classics, but the leads are handsome and capable, the script taut and intelligent (though in some ways it is closer to silent melodrama than modern noir), and whenever Charles Laughton’s J.J. Beale is on screen, the film threatens to become something more than a good noirish thriller.

   The Bribe isn’t a noir classic by any means, but it is a capable A-film of its era and with that Laughton performance well worth catching.

Note: Of course Fred Nebel is the legendary author of Sleepers East and the adventures of newsman Kennedy and his cop pal Captain Steve McBride. (For the movies Kennedy became a woman, Torchy Blaine, played by Glenda Farrell, Jane Wyman, and Lola Lane, with Barton MacLane and Paul Kelly among the Steve McBride’s.)

   He also penned the adventures of ruthless private eye tough Dick Donahue and the long running Cardigan series. Though many of his stories have been anthologized, his two novels have long been out of print, and his short fiction has been sadly neglected.

   There is one collection of the Donahue stories (Six Deadly Dames), one of the Cardigan stories (The Adventures of Cardigan), a few pulp story reprints, and sadly no collection of the Kennedy and McBride stories from Black Mask. Luckily his work appears in most noir anthologies and in The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulp Fiction an entire Kennedy and McBride serial from Black Mask is reprinted.

* For some reason this film always reminds me of Charles Leonard’s (M. V. Heberden aka Mary Heberden) Paul Kilgerrin books about a tough ruthless insurance investigator who appeared in Treachery in Trieste, Sinister Squadron, Secret of the Spa, and others.

Editorial Comment: The Bribe is scheduled to be shown next on TCM this coming Wednesday, May 5th, at 4 pm. It is also available from the Warner Archives site.

  KERRY GREENWOOD – Death Before Wicket. Allen & Unwin, Australia, trade paperback, 1999. Poisoned Pen Press, US, hardcover, January 2008; softcover, March 2008.

Genre:   Historical/private eye. Series character:   Phryne Fisher, 10th in series. Setting:   Australia-Golden Age/1920s.

First Sentence:   Sydney struck Phryne Fisher, quite literally, in the face.

   Phryne Fisher is off to Sydney for a bit of cricket, sightseeing and to attend the Artist’s Ball. She is barely off the train when two young men, students at the University of Sydney, ask for her help. Exams have been stolen from a safe in the dean’s office and their friend has been accused.

   Phryne is also soon asked by Dot, her maid, to find her sister who has disappeared leaving behind two small children with Dot’s less-than-desirable brother-in-law.

   Phryne (pronounced Fry-knee) Fisher may be my all-time favorite character. Ms. Greenwood has done a wonderful job creating her, and with vivid descriptions of clothes, food and her life, she seems very real.

   In this book, we learn even more of her childhood, which was very poor and provides an excellent contrast to her present life of wealth. Phryne is smart, clever, independent, and sexy with a wonderful attitude toward affairs while being very loyal and caring.

   Greenwood is smart in creating the contrasting character of her maid Dot, whom Phryne rescued, is subdued, Catholic and uncertain how much Anglicans knew about religion when she gives Phryne a St. Michael’s metal for protection.

   This is not your traditional cozy, as there are scenes that are quite sexually explicit. But the book also deals with issues. The Sydney Harbour Bridge is under construction. There are interesting observations on the damage done by the original Brits to Australia and the problems which still exist in Sydney versus Melbourne, Phryne’s home.

   The books also deals with the beliefs of the Aborigines and the belief in magic with a very good line that although one may not believe in magic, one can believe in belief.

   In Death Before Wicket Ms. Greenwood creates a well-rounded story with excellent dialogue and a very good twist at the end. It includes just the right touch of humor as in a scene where the protagonist does a delightful send-up of the too-stupid-to-live, gothic-novel heroine.

   This book was a joy to read and I always look forward to the next book in the series.

Rating:   Very Good.

Editorial Comments:   According to the Phryne Fisher website, there are now 17 books in the series, with an 18th due out in October. Poisoned Pen Press has been publishing them in the US, but as I far as I’ve been able to tell, in no particular order. I wish the Poisoned Pen website had been designed for users to maneuver around in a lot more easily than it is, but unfortunately it is not.

THE MISSING PERSON. 2009. Michael Shannon, Amy Ryan, Frank Wood, Linda Emond, Paul Sparks, Margaret Colin, John Ventimiglia. Screenwriter & director: Noah Buschel.

   This is a private eye movie, and as you probably all know, if a PI movie is made in the year 2009, there has to be a reason. This one starts out as a spoof, sort of, or so I thought for quite some time.

   You know what I mean, I think. Michael Shannon plays John Rosow, a former New York City cop who now ekes out a living as a PI in Chicago.

   He’s a hard drinker, an incessant smoker, and he does damn fool things like speak tough guy narration over the first few scenes, among others, every so often as the movie goes along.

   Speaking of smoking, though, another incessant bit of business that goes with his lighting up is that every time he does, whoever’s in the scene with him immediately asks him to put it out, and that’s the kind of movie this movie starts out to be.

   He’s hired to look out for a guy whose wife is looking for him, to follow him and see where he’s going and what he does. It turns out that the man, a middle-aged balding fellow (played by Frank Wood) is taking the train to California (and San Diego in particular) with a young Mexican boy.

   And in California a woman played by Margaret Colin picks Rosow up in a bar, and somehow she’s part of the story, which by this time, nearly a third of way through we (the viewer) have next to no idea what’s gong on, except in bits and pieces. If Rosow knows more than we do, he’s putting on a pretty good act.

   Speaking of Margaret Colin, though, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her in anything worth watching, but even when the movie or TV show she’s in isn’t worth watching, she always is.

   In this movie we see more of her than usual, so that was a plus factor for watching, I admit it, right then and there, and when I watch this movie again, she’ll be one of the primary reasons.

   The story gets out of control more than ever when Rosow confronts two FBI agents in an alley behind his motel right around this same time, a meeting which ends with the pair (male and female) giving him a pair of sunglasses with glow-in-the-dark frames.

   It turns out that these frames have a small but important part of the movie, if not the story itself. But once Rosow is in Mexico, and he learns why the man he has been tailing is doing there, the story does turn serious, having significant post-9/11 implications and more, including the reason he was hired for such an outwardly innocuous job in the first place.

   I’ll say no more about that. You can call this movie “art house” noir, if you like, but behind the faux pretentiousness, there was some thought put into the making of this movie.

   Don’t give up on it, once you start. This may be the best PI movie made in 2009, and you may quote me on that.

PostScript: I meant to work this quote into the review, but now that I’m done, I don’t see any place to put it, other than now. Amy Ryan plays Miss Charley, the staid but polite liaison between Rosow and the lawyer who’s hired him. Says Rosow, “I told her she could be my secretary, once I got a few more assignments. But she said she didn’t mix business with pleasure. I promised her I was no pleasure. Yuk, yuk, yuk.”

   Also, while I have you here and before I let you go, every good PI movie has to have a jazz background, right? And one of the jazz players has to be pretty good with a saxophone. The Missing Person qualifies on both counts. The sax player in question is Joe Lovano:

[UPDATE.] Later the same day. Vince Keenan’s take on this film can be found here on his blog. I saw he’d reviewed it but I didn’t read what he had to say until after I’d written up my own comments. I’m pleased to say that when it comes to noir, like minds think alike, at least this time.

KILL ME AGAIN. 1989. Val Kilmer, Joanne Whalley-Kilmer, Michael Madsen. Director & co-screenwriter: John Dahl.

   PI Jack Andrews is down on his luck, you might say. After the death of his wife a few years back, his life has gone downhill ever since. Right now a local Reno gambler has a couple of hoodlums on his neck, and Jack has no idea where he can raise $10,000 in three days.

   Such is his life when the beautiful girl knocks on his office door. She has a proposition for him, she says. She’s in this terrible relationship with a man, and to get out from under, she wants Jack to help her fake her own murder. Jack demurs for a moment, but the sight of $5000, payment in advance, quickly changes his mind, and the deal is struck.

   What Jack doesn’t know could kill him. Soon he not only has the two hoodlums on his heels, but the police, and the boy friend from whom the money came — and he’s not about to give it up easily — but also the mobsters from whom the boy friend stole the money, nearly $1,000,000 worth.

   And they aren’t about to give it up easily, either. Double cross is soon followed by double and triple cross. Val Kilmer seems too boyish looking to be in such a game, sort of a Jack Tripper caught up in a Jim Thompson crime caper, if you see what I mean, but Joanne Whalley-Kilmer is a smoldering keg of sexual dynamite, and if it weren’t for her presence in the story, it’d have no place to go.

   I wasn’t expecting too much from this movie — I watched it only because of the private eye connection — but once I started, I couldn’t turn it off. There were some minor gaps in the plot, so far as I could see, but it’s also as current an example of authentic “film noir” as I’ve seen in a while. And even if it strongly reminds you of something you’ve already seen before, it’s still a spine-tingling thriller.

Editorial Comment: As I was formatting this review in the process of getting it posted, it started to sound awfully familiar to me. You may not believe this, but when I reviewed it here on the blog in February of 2008, I’d completely forgotten I’d seen it before.

   My comments back then, a couple of years ago, were a lot lengthier, so I was able to include a couple of scenes from the movie I didn’t have room for this time, but my opinion on the movie? Exactly the same.

   And I’ll probably watch and review this same movie again in five or ten years. It’s my kind of movie. Don’t believe me? Stick around and find out.

CARTER BROWN – The Stripper. Signet S1981, paperback original; 1st printing, August 1961. Cover art: Robert McGinnis. Reprint paperback: combined with The Brazen, Signet Double Novel, 1981.

   Pine City homicide cope Lt. Al Wheeler is called to the fifteenth floor of a hotel where a young woman, Patty Keller, is on an outside ledge. At 3 pm she decides to come in, but as she edges along she doubles up in agony and falls to her death.

   Doc Murphy’s autopsy shows she had had an injection of a powerful emetic, but there was no hypodermic in the hotel room. Sheriff Lavers tells Wheeler that the girl had just one relative in Pine City, a cousin called Dolores Keller, known as Deadpan Dolores, a stripper who strips with no facial expressions.

   Dolores tells Wheeler that Patty had joined a lonely hearts club run by Mr and Mrs Arkwright. They tell him that Patty had had just one date, with Harvey Stem. Meanwhile Wheeler takes a shine to the receptionist, Sherry Rand, and arranges to take her to see Dolores perform.

   At the club he notices the supposedly shy Harvey Stem drinking champagne with two of the strippers and meets sinister club owner Miles Rovak and his henchman Steve Loomas. After the club Wheeler takes Sherry back to his apartment where, to the accompaniment of Duke Ellington, courtesy of AI’s hi-fi, Sherry demonstrates what she has learned of the art of striptease.

   The story goes back and forth between the strip club and the lonely hearts club, another death occurs, and Dolores decides to cosy up to Wheeler before he puts everything together.

   This is not the best Al Wheeler that I have read, not that any of them should be taken seriously, of course. The plot is rather so-so, but it is an enjoyable read, with most of the regulars, including Murphy, Lavers, Sergeant Polnik and Annabelle Jackson, showing up.

Editorial Comment: Coming soon to a blog near you, Geoff’s review of Carter Brown’s The Stripper: The Musical.

KATE ELLIS – The Armada Boy. St. Martin’s Press, hardcover, July 2000. Previously published in the UK: Piatkus, hc, 1999.

Genre: Police procedural. Series character: DS Wesley Peterson, 2nd in series. Setting: Devon, UK.

First Sentence: Norman Openheim lit a forbidden cigarette and inhaled deeply.

   The Americans have come back to Devon in tribute to the time spent there preparing for the Normandy Invasion. The reunion does not go without incident when Neil, an archeologist and friend of DS Wesley Peterson, find the body of a murdered veteran at the chantry chapel ruins, the site where sailors of the Spanish Armada are said to be buried and where in more recent times, couples went for a bit of privacy.

   The only thing better than discovering a new author I like, is when they have a backlist for me to read. Kate Ellis is such an author.

   It is nice that this book is set in the fictional town of Tradmouth in Devon. From the author’s website, I learned that she used Dartmouth as her guide. While it is nice to be outside a major city, providing a stronger sense of place would have been appreciated, particularly as I am completely unfamiliar with this area. Thank heaven for the Internet.

   I cannot, however, fault her for character creation. Although this is billed as “A Wesley Peterson Crime Novel,” it read more as an ensemble cast, and a good one. Again, quoting the website, “Each story combines an intriguing contemporary murder mystery with a parallel historical case.”

   Wesley received his degree in archeology prior to joining the police force and therefore provides the bridge to his archeologist friend, Neil. Wesley is polished and university educated, in contrast to his superior, DI Heffernan, whom I am delighted to say he gets on with well.

   To this pair add a bright, ambitious police woman; a young detective who’d really like the action of London; Wesley’s archeologist friend; and an unseen psychic who calls to tell them to look for the Armada Boy.

   What I particularly appreciated was that the background of all the characters is provided in bits throughout the story. The story’s plot is well constructed. It is intricate and filled with red herrings and twists but never feels contrived or manipulative.

   The clues are revealed to the reader as they are to the characters. The past is a critical element of the story as it relates to both location and motives. Ellis skillfully blends the historical information into the plot, even enabling a particularly poignant thread to the story.

   Ellis is an intelligent writer excellent at combining the past with the present and in her use of allegories and understanding the impact of the sins of the father. She has definitely joined my “must read” list.

Rating: Very Good Plus.

      The Wesley Peterson series —

1. The Merchant’s House (1998)

2. The Armada Boy (1999)
3. An Unhallowed Grave (1999)
4. The Funeral Boat (2000)
5. The Bone Garden (2001)

6. A Painted Doom (2002)
7. The Skeleton Room (2003)

8. The Plague Maiden (2004)
9. A Cursed Inheritance (2005)
10. The Marriage Hearse (2006)
11. The Shining Skull (2007)
12. The Blood Pit (2008)

13. A Perfect Death (2009)
14. The Flesh Tailor (2010)
15. The Jackal Man (2011)

Note: Kate Ellis has also written two detective novels featuring DI Joe Plantagenet, and one with Lady Katheryn Bulkeley, a 16th century abbess.

   The dealers room is, of course, the center of all activity at pulp conventions, whether it be Windy City or Pulpfest. If it’s your first visit, it’s a sight to see. For old-timers, it may be the smell of old musty paper that staggers the senses first:

   I don’t recognize any of the faces in these first three photos, but that’s Walker Martin’s back in the lowermost one (in the white T-shirt).

   The most jaw-dropping display was, as always, behind John Gunnison’s table. Nobody in the room had seen more copies of Danger Trail in one place at one time. Not only that, these were all in Very Good to Fine condition, if not better:

   Another shot of the room. That’s Nick Certo behind the table, making a deal (or small talk) with Paul Herman, whom I traveled to the show with.

   A better shot of Walker Martin, whose back you saw earlier above. I believe this was taken the day after the auction, where he outbid everyone on three large lots of romance or “love” pulps. This is what a collector looks like when he’s cornered the market on an entire category of pulp fiction:

   Walker then obliged me by taking this photo of me:

   If you missed it, you can go back a few posts and read Walker’s report on the convention here.

   Here next are Gene Christie and Tom Roberts, the guys behind Black Dog Books. Gene forgot at the time that he’s no longer in my Squadron and he no longer has to salute me. I wish I’d managed to get some of the books they were selling into the photo:

   The first night’s auction was an estate sale, and the number and variety of scarce and hard-to-find pulps was significantly higher than there’s been in many years. First of all, a copy of the one-shot Underworld Love Stories, a magazine that most people had never seen before:

   I thought the magazine might sell for over a thousand dollars, but I was told that it went for only $720 or so. (If I’m wrong about this, I’m sure someone will let me know.)

   There was also a beautiful run of Real Detective Stories. I took two photos of these, hoping that at least one would come out:

   These were sold in several lots, each of which commanded a sizable stash of money. Next, a long run of Nick Carter pulps (not the dime novels) in very nice condition. Unfortunately I took only one photo of these, and you get a better glimpse of the spines, I’m afraid, rather than the covers:

   Both Snappy Stories and Breezy Stories were in good supply:

   Before heading off to the Art Room, I took a close-up photo of Paul Herman, last seen buying magic carpets from Nick Certo:

   And of course Paul demanded retribution, and he took this photo of me in return. You can see that Paul does not know how to take pictures, as I really do not ever look like this.

   The theme of the convention was the 100th anniversary of Adventure magazine. I failed to take any pictures during the panel discussion, but I did take several in the Art Room. All of original art on display came from Adventure or some of its several competitors. I also failed to take any notes on these, so I’m sorry I can’t tell you either the artists or the magazines:

   And all too sudden, the convention was over.

LOVER COME BACK. Columbia, 1931. Constance Cummings, Jack Mulhall, Betty Bronson, Jameson Thomas, Katherine Givney. Screenplay by Dorothy Howell and Robert Shannon, from a story by Helen Topping Miller; photography: Joseph Walker. Director: Erie C. Kenton, director. Shown at Cinecon 45, Hollywood CA, September 2009.

   There were films with the same title released in 1946 (with Lucille Ball and George Brent) and in 1961 (with Doris Day and Rock Hudson).

   I’ve not seen the two later films, but none of the IMDB postings suggests any connection between the three except the title. In any case, the situation as it developed in the 1931 film would never have made it to the screen in the later periods in anything resembling its treatment of sexual relationships.

   Constance Cummings is a secretary who’s had an affair with Jack Mulhall, general manager of the firm for which she works. When he breaks off their relationship and marries Betty Bronson (groomed by her mother, Katherine Givney, for a suitable marriage) Cummings accepts the longstanding offer of her boss, Jameson Thomas, and moves into a Park Avenue apartment he’s set up for her.

   She continues to work at the firm as the organizer and hostess of parties entertaining out-of-town clients. When Bronson begins an affair with Thomas, Cummings attempts to protect Mulhall from the knowledge of his wife’s indiscretions, but eventually Bronson’s blatant cheating precipitates the film’s not-too-surprising climax.

   Beautiful Constance Cummings may be the victim of a blind lover and a scheming rival, but she has a strong will and an intelligence that make it clear who’s going to carry the day.

   She gives a commanding performance in a frank treatment of sexual relationships that may seem astonishing to someone who’s not familiar with Hollywood’s license for sinning in the pre-code era.

ROBERT CRAIS – The First Rule. G. P. Putnam’s Sons, hardcover, January 2010. Paperback reprint: Berkley, December 2010.

Genre: Private eye. Series character: Joe Pike/Elvis Cole, 2nd in Joe Pike series. Setting: Los Angeles.

First Sentence: Frank Meyer closed his computer as the early winter darkness fell over his home in Westwood, California, not far from the UCLA campus.

   Joe Pike receives word that, Frank, one of the members of his former mercenary team has been murdered, along with his entire family and the nanny, in a violent home invasion. The police and FBI want to know what Frank was into.

   Pike knows he Frank was clean but, along with the other members of the former team and his friend, PI Elvis Cole, are dedicated to find the killers and elicit their own form of justice. This becomes particularly true when Pike realizes Frank wasn’t the target, but only collateral damage.

   In general, I am a big fan of Robert Crais and the Elvis Cole/Joe Pike series. I liked The Watchman which gave us more information about Pike’s past. But I don’t think Pike works as a lead protagonist. Pike works as Cole’s backup, sometimes known as the “psychopathic sidekick,” because he is an enigma. He doesn’t do friendship, in the classic sense of the word but, by heaven, he does loyalty and he has a code by which he leads his life, and that makes him work as a character.

   I appreciate Crais wanting to stretch the character of Pike, but it just didn’t quite work because of problems with the story and the writing. First, if Pike had said “Sh” one more time, I’d have taken out whatever virtual weapon — I am so NOT a gun person — and shot him.

   Second, Pike formed a relationship with a baby that, even allowing for the metaphysical, stretched credulity beyond the point of belief. But third, and most important, Pike broke his own rules. The situation did not call for it and it didn’t make sense.

   The one thing that did hold true, was Pike’s tribute to his fallen comrade, which I appreciated. Crais does give the story an element of place, but there also seemed to be a large assumption that the reader is familiar with the environs of Southern California/Los Angeles. I do find it interesting — i.e., unbelievable — that whenever there would be a car chase, there was no traffic to slow them down.

   The First Rule was, as always, an exciting read with lots of action and some good twists to the plot, but this is far from Crais’s best work. I’m certain I’ll read his next book, but I may not buy it in hardcover.

Rating:   Okay.

Previously reviewed on this blog:

      Indigo Slam (by Steve Lewis).

JAMES HADLEY CHASE – I’ll Get You For This. Jarrolds, UK, hardcover, 1946. Avon Monthly Novel #18, US, digest-sized paperback, 1951. Filmed as Lucky Nick Cain, 1951, with George Raft, Coleen Gray & Walter Rilla.

   That’s Chester Cain, the hero of James Hadley Chase’s novel I’ll Get You For This, a gambler with a fast gun that would make Mike Hammer or Race Williams blink twice and a barely legal reputation. Like pulpster Gordon Young’s Don Everhard from an earlier age, he’s a fast shooting two-fisted professional gambler who is a law unto himself.

   In I’ll Get You For This Cain has just arrived in Paradise Palm, a coastal beauty spot where he hopes to spend a little vacation time after a grueling few months of profitable gambling up north. He has a bankroll, and he’s in the mood to enjoy it.

   And Paradise Palm seems just the kind of place to enjoy it all. The beaches are stacked with beautiful women if various states of extreme immodesty and even the cops call him sir. In fact, people couldn’t be nicer.

   By now Cain’s a bit suspicious, but he’s willing to play along and see where all this is going. The only man who acts at all normal is John Herrick, a reform candidate who isn’t excited about trouble like Cain showing up in town.

   But Cain doesn’t have long to worry about that when he is introduced to Miss Wonderly:

   That mention of the perfume brand may have been picked up from Peter Cheyney, whose heroes seemed to be hypnotized by the Narcisse Noir his femme fatales always wore. Later James Bond did this sort of brand name thing with a bit more style and flair, Fleming borrowing some of the Americanized elements of Cheyney and Chase for the Bond saga.

   But paradise doesn’t remain paradise very long and it is only the next day when a hungover Cain finds himself in a place more familiar to him:

   It looks bad, especially since the dead man in question is Herrick — the one man in town who hadn’t offered Cain a glad hand and the key to the city. Killeano, the city administrator offers to help, but somehow Cain doesn’t trust him or his motives. Luckily for Cain they didn’t count on Clair Wonderly falling for him — she refuses to play the game even when the cops get rough.

   And Cain lets them know he isn’t finished with them:

   Cain ends up teaming with the Feds in the form of a G-Man name Hoskiss, and he and Clair bring down Killeano and Paradise Palms and the dirty racket they are running. (Hoskiss should be a T-Man since the scheme involves counterfeiting, but I suppose we have to give Brit Chase a pass on that mistake.)

   But that’s not the end of it. As the gang are awaiting trial, Cain and Clair know they are in danger and try to go to ground, but the gang goes after them, and Cain has to resort to his old skills with a gun to protect them both while he hunts down Bat Thompson, the hood who killed Herrick and is now hunting Clair and him.

   And Cain goes home to Clair confident that their reign of fear has ended:

   I’ll Get You For This is mid-level Chase, violent and derivative, but compulsively readable and entertaining. Chase still has a following, with many of his books available as free e-books from various sources and his numerous books collectable. He even had his champions in George Orwell, who wrote about him in his famous article “Miss Blandish and Raffles,” and Chase’s friend Graham Greene, who included one of his works in a famous anthology of thrillers.

   This despite the fact that Chase was twice accused of plagiarism — notably for his debut No Orchids For Miss Blandish, that sailed a bit too close to William Faulkner’s novel Sanctuary, and later having to apologize to Raymond Chandler for lifting whole passages from one of his books.

   But then as Chase is recreating an entire world that existed only in books and films for him he may be forgiven if he sometimes recreated that world too closely.

   That said, even in this one you know he lifted the name Wonderly from The Maltese Falcon. It was just a habit he couldn’t — or wouldn’t bother to — break.

   Chase only visited the United States twice, but in general made good use of maps and a dictionary of slang in recreating a sort of fractured version of the hardboiled country of James M. Cain, Hammett, and Chandler. His work lacks the surrealism of Peter Cheyney’s Lemme Caution tales, despite which — or maybe because of which — Chase is great fun to read.

   His best works sometimes read like a pastiche of a Gold Medal original or noir film.

   His novels were great favorites (along with Peter Cheyney) in the famous French serie noir paperback series, and truthfully both he and Cheyney’s fractured Americanisms translated to French are a unique reading experience. Like Jerry Lewis, something may be lost in the translation back into English.

   Chase wrote under several names, but other than Chase, was probably best known as Raymond Marshall.

   For the most part his plots are clever if not surprising. They move fast, and at their best manage to recreate the kind of doomed noirish atmosphere of the James M. Cain book that first inspired him (The Postman Always Rings Twice) without achieving a single moment of authenticity.

   In some ways you could call them the British crime equivalent of spaghetti westerns, the pulp formula boiled down to its purest elements by an eye that experienced it only through books and films.

   I’ll Get You For This was made into a forgettable but mildly entertaining film, Lucky Nick Cain, with George Raft and filmed in Italy. It was relatively faithful to the basics of Chase’s plot, and was one of Raft’s better fifties outings.

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   (*)  Careful readers will notice certain Anglicisms like city administrator instead of city manager or supervisor or electric torch for flashlight, and colours for colors creep in.

Previously reviewed on this blog:

      No Orchids for Miss Blandish, by Bill Crider (1001 Midnights).

      Hit and Run, by Steve Lewis.