Book Review by Patrick H. Moore

May 23, 2022

Matt Goldman, author of the Nils Shapiro PI series, is a very funny man. He started out doing stand-up comedy while a student at the University of Minnesota. He was apparently pretty darned good; before long he was opening for Jerry Seinfeld and other well-known comedians.

Friends suggested he move to LA to write for film and television. He gave it a shot and within a few years he was writing for various TV series including Seinfeld, Ellen and Love & War.

Somewhere along the line, Mr. Goldman, who has stated that he was originally a “literary fiction snob”, decided to take a crack at crime writing. Like countless other crime writers, he was inspired by Raymond Chandler’s Philip Marlowe stories, which, among other things, he found to be quite humorous. It dawns on me that there may be something a bit Seinfeldian in Philip Marlowe’s sarcastic rejoinders.

I just read the fourth book in Mr. Goldman’s Nils Shapiro PI series, which is called Dead West. I’m not sure why he chose this title, possibly because in the course of the story, at least two characters “get dead” in LA and several others come close to their ultimate reckoning.

As the story begins, Nils is hired by a rather stiff old woman of some means named Beverly Mayer to fly out to LA to check up on her grandson Ebben, who is filthy rich with a huge trust fund and whose fiancee Juliana has just died mysteriously, perhaps the victim of foul play. The elderly Ms. Mayer is afraid that Ebben, whom she considers to be quite naive, is throwing away his fortune by investing foolishly in movies and generally allowing himself to be fleeced by unscrupulous operators.

Once in LA, Nils, who narrates the story in his own first person voice, discovers that Ebben, who is a decent, idealistic fellow intent on making quality movies, is skilled at finding investors for his film projects and is actually quite cautious with his own money. Ebben is hooked on energy drinks and it turns out that his deceased fiancee Juliana died from an overdose of stimulants. Decadent fellow that I am, I assumed that the stimulants were either coke or meth, which struck me as a bit odd because although it’s easy to overdose on these nefarious drugs, overdoses generally cause intense fear and paranoia but rarely result in death.

Aha! The joke was on me. The stimulant that took poor Juliana out of the game was caffeine. The poor woman died of a caffeine overdose, which is apparently possible. In fact, just a few days ago, a hapless Brit died from ingesting the equivalent of 200 cups of coffee.

(My own caffeine adventures pale in comparison. As a wet-behind-the-ears teen, I did once ingest 9 NoDoz tablets. Spent the night listening to the all night DJs on my AM radio. That was it. My heart did not burst though I vaguely recall having to pee a lot.)

Once Nils arrives in LA (Ebben actually lives in Hancock Park), he begins to build his plot and has a field day making fun of Los Angeles, Hollywood and the film industry in general. But lest this confuse you, gentle reader, Dead West is no Day of the Locusts. Rather, the film industry types in this story – Sebastiano, Bunion Brit, Debra, Thom Burke and others – are ribbed rather gently rather than cruelly, and in time, Nils becomes rather fond of Big LA and its cast of improbable types, not the least of which is the villain, a short squat Eastern European type named Vassily who goes around threatening people, speaks pigeon English, and wears a patch over one eye.

Although apparently not interested in planting his flag in the vast reservoir of neo-noir that is the turf of writers like Dennis Lehane, James Lee Burke, and Lee Child, Mr. Goldman is an extremely funny writer. At several junctures I found myself laughing uncontrollably. He is equally skilled at creating humor through descriptions and actual events. At one point, I was laughing so hard that I literally fell off my couch. And I should add, to get a grim old couch potato like yours truly to laugh so hard he falls off his couch is no mean feat.

The overall rendering of my beloved SoCal with special emphasis on Hollywood, West LA, the film industry in general, and Hollywood Hills, which I believe the author never actually mentions by name, is executed with verve and humor. “Traffic, thine name is Los Angeles.”

To avoid spoilers, let me only say that good-hearted, energy drink addicted Ebben ultimately finds himself in one helluva jam.

At a certain point it becomes clear that this book is, among other things, a human interest story about relationships cloaked in the trappings of a murder mystery. Nils Shapiro, like Ebben, is a kind-hearted person. He is engaged to Gabriella in Minnesota and can’t wait to get back to her. Nils’ partner at his agency is also very kind. In fact, everyone in Minnesota except Beverly Mayer seems to be pretty cool. LA fares poorly in contrast. The LAPD cops are on the take and the majority of the circle of agents, producers, and writers that orbit around Ebben are either larcenous, conniving or both.

Halfway through the story, Nils, missing his recently found domestic bliss, joyfully returns to Minneapolis to reunite with Gabriella. He only returns to LA because, as the plot develops, Ebben needs him desperately, and Nils is too decent a person to ever abandon a client.

Something I found most endearing about this story is Nils’ deep friendship with Jameson, a black 6’ 7” former professional football player turned nurse practitioner. Jameson has been devastated by a medical emergency in which he was unable to save several severely injured children and watched them die on his watch. As Deep West progresses, Jameson slowly regains his mental equilibrium.

Without providing any clues, let me only say that the ultimate crisis in this story took me completely by surprise and is surely not your everyday crime novel crisis. In fact, it is most curious, ‘passing strange.

On balance, I am very glad to have read Dead West and I recommend it heartily to any readers who enjoy a good humorous mystery that is anchored in genuine human relationships but which does not choose to delve TOO deeply into the underbelly of human existence.

Book Review by Patrick H. Moore

March 1, 2022

I just finished Colorblind by Reed Farrel Coleman. It is the fifth entry in Mr. Coleman’s Robert C. Parker Jesse Stone series and I enjoyed it considerably. I had never read Mr. Coleman before and had no idea what to expect.

As the story begins, Jesse Stone is Chief of Police in the Boston bedroom community of Paradise. Jesse is in some ways a typical white male mystery/thriller protagonist. He keeps his emotions to himself and has never been in a successful long-term relationship with a female. He was apparently engaged to the woman of his dreams, Diana, shortly before Colorblind begins, but she was murdered. Jesse has had chronic problems “with the bottle” and as the story begins, he has just returned to work after spending two months in an alcohol rehab program.

The plot of Colorblind is not overly complex. A group of white supremacists called The Saviours of Society, led by a religious nutjob named Vandercamp, has infiltrated Paradise and has begun to systematically assault and/or terrify the black and brown-skinned female residents of the community. This is where we discover a most appealing side to Chief Jesse Stone’s nature. Despite his checkered past and tendency to suppress his own emotions, Chief Stone appears to be very comfortable with the changing demographics of America and is more than willing to not only accept black and brown people into Paradise; he has even added a black female police officer named Alisha to his small roster of dedicated officers. Although it is never fully explained, Jesse had to apparently overcome considerable resistance from City Hall in order to hire Alisha.

Another interesting and appealing side to Jesse’s nature is the fact that while serving as Chief of Police in Paradise, he has carefully trained his officers to NEVER brandish or fire their guns unless it is absolutely necessary. Jesse simply does not allow his officers to deviate from this policy. One can only imagine what a huge difference it would make for police work in general here in the United States if ALL police officers and deputy sheriffs in ALL communities were trained to NEVER brandish or fire their sidearms unless absolutely necessary. A sea-change of this magnitude could not fail to greatly improve police relations within their respective communities all across this nation.

Reading this story, I found myself wondering if the author, Reed Farrel Coleman, was sending a subtle, or perhaps not so subtle message, that police work in America, particularly with respect to gun policy, needs a thorough overhaul.

We do learn that Jesse Stone, despite all his good qualities, still possesses a dark side that could easily place him in danger of losing his badge and/or even going to prison. Being fresh out of rehab, Jesse begins attending AA meetings in Boston. There, he is attracted to a woman named Anya. After an AA meeting one night, he interrupts a rape in progress. It seems that an AA member is in the process of forcing himself on Anya in a parked car outside of the AA meeting. Jesse naturally breaks up the attempted rape and liberates Anya from the clutches of the would-be rapist. For her part, Anya makes it very clear that she does not want to press charges.

In response, Jesse takes the law into his own hands. He basically kicks the shit out of the wannabe rapist and, if memory serves, knees him twice in the balls. I found this to be disturbing. To me it suggests that Chief Jesse Stone’s suppressed demons are very dangerous indeed. By rights, based on him assaulting and injuring the rapist, Jesse should serve at least a year in jail and possibly more.

Oddly, the narrative flow of this story completely passes over this incident, almost like it didn’t happen. ‘Passing strange, if you ask me.

There is a subplot to the story that serves to undercut this image of violent, uncontrollable Jesse Stone taking the law into his own hands. Early on in the story, Jesse rubs elbows with a young, sullen vagrant who has just arrived in town. The young man is not without a certain charisma. Rather than locking the kid up or running him out of town, big-hearted Jesse finds him a job and a place to live.

At this juncture, rather than including any “spoilers”, I wish merely to provide my overall impression of this book. It is a fast-paced (in a relaxed sort of way) well-written, crime story in which the good guys (led by Chief Stone) lock horns with the bad guys (the white supremacists). The writing is solid but unspectacular and I did not find the other police officers, with the exception of Chief Jesse, to be terribly interesting. The leader of the bad guys, a portly religious nutjob named Vandercamp is quite an intriguing character who does not hesitate to sacrifice his own sons for the “good” of his execrable cause (suppressing people of color). One of the best parts of the story is the manner in which Jesse attempts to help Old Man Vandercamp’s alcoholic son James Earl escape from his father’s grisly clutches. It dawns on me that an entire novel could be written centered on the Vandercamp clan. As is so often the case in literature and, alas, our world in general, the bad guys are perhaps more interesting and entertaining than the good guys.

All in all, I heartily recommend Colorblind to any reader of crime fiction who enjoys a good uplifting story with some social relevance. It is a fast smooth read that left me wanting to read more of Reed Farrel Coleman’s Jesse Stone series.