There was a time when I religiously sought every book by Robert B. Parker. I looked forward to each new book he published (and he seemed to publish one every month, so it was like Christmas every time I went to the bookstore), and I loved the fact that he had written so many books that it would take me several years to catch up to the backlog of other novels. I especially loved the Spenser series. I remember watching the short-lived TV series when I was a kid (it was the reason I became a Parker fan in the first place), and Robert Urich became my mental image of Spenser with each new book I read.
At some point around 10 years ago, I stopped reading Parker. Not because I started disliking Parker for any reason. I just got caught up in other interests. My tastes were developing. I was discovering new authors, some of whom were authors that Parker himself acknowledged as his own inspirations: Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett, Jim Thompson, James Cain, Ross MacDonald. From there I leapfrogged to other writers taking the noir genre into fascinating new directions: Andrew Vachss, James Ellroy, James Lee Burke, Lee Child. I still had a place for Parker in my heart, but he, not to put too fine a point on it, kind of got left behind.
My bad.
The world is short one great writer now ever since Parker died, and I'm ashamed to say that I never went to the funeral. I guess I listened to too many people saying that Parker was old hat. Spenser was too "Old School" among the modern-day detectives. Hell, he wasn't even a drunk. There were rumors that Parker's last few Spenser books weren't that great anyway, that he was "phoning it in". Whatever.
The truth is, Parker left a treasure trove of great detective stories, and Spenser will always be one of my favorites.
"Painted Ladies" is, I think, the thirty-eighth book in the Spenser series, and it was one of the books published shortly before his death. I'm putting to rest the rumors that Parker was "phoning it in" near the end. It's a bullshit rumor.
Everything Parker fans adored about Spenser is still there: wise-cracking, tough-guy antics, sensitive and charming to women but loyally faithful to Susan, the love of his life, smarter than he lets on.
The story: Spenser is hired by Dr. Ashton Prince, a well-known art scholar, to protect him during a meet in which art thieves who have stolen a priceless Dutch painting will exchange it for money. Spenser expects things to go smoothly, and everything does until Prince, with painting in hand, explodes in a fiery mess.
Spenser's pissed. He doesn't like it when the man who hired him for protection ends up dead, even if it wasn't his fault. The meet was a set-up. Prince was marked for death from the beginning, but why? This wasn't just a simple case of a stolen painting, as he soon finds out. When professional assassins try two unsuccessful attempts to kill Spenser, he really gets mad.
Reading "Painted Ladies" was, I have to admit, kind of like coming home again. I missed Parker. I'm glad I've become reunited.