To Turn on the Heat is a metaphor for making things hot enough for a suspect that they will start to boil and, as a result, cough up information. It is a great title for describing Donald Lam’s overall strategy in this Bertha Cool and Donald Lam mystery from Erle Stanley Gardner’s novels written as A. A. Fair. It is also a great title for what a suspect does to Lam in hopes of getting him off the case. Charles Ardai’s Hard Case Crime line has republished Turn on the Heat as well as The Count of 9 and The Knife Slipped (reviewed earlier by your verbose reviewer here on Goodreads).
All the elements of the early 20th century crime novel are present in Turn on the Heat, as well as the suggestive cover that, like the sultry females in 20th century pulp fiction, promises more than she delivers (hopefully, obvious enough that it doesn’t warrant a spoiler tag). The pulp elements in Turn on the Heat are: the client with a hidden motive, the hostile (perhaps, crooked) cop, the shady nightclub, the murdered witness(es), the tight-lipped small town, the secrets of the past, and the K.O.’ed detective. This one has all of those elements, as well as the quirky ones associated with this team of overweight, middle-aged agency owner Bertha Cool and skinny, but hard-boiled, detective Donald Lam: Bertha’s greed and stinginess, Donald’s tendency to keep his “cards close to his chest,” Bertha’s innate curiosity (and mistrust of Donald), Donald’s tendency to follow the “Sucker for a Pretty Face” trope, and Donald’s tendency to rub people the wrong way.
The mystery begins with the client asking the agency to locate a person missing for over two decades. He doesn’t indicate why he is looking for the missing person and pays well enough that the agency is not supposed to ask anything about others who disappeared at the same time. Naturally, Donald decides unilaterally to broaden the lane of the investigation and include those other missing persons in hopes of making it easier to find the original person he was contracted to find. That’s where things get sticky. The townspeople seem to have all but forgotten the individual sought, people go to great lengths to get Lam (who is the opposite of what his last name implies, either as wooly creature or according to the cliché “on the…) off the case, and, predictably, Lam ends up unconscious.
With Lam’s “Sucker for a Pretty Face” trope, it is easy for Gardner (as Fair) to write in multiple “red herrings” who are female. His tendency provides for comedic moments, as well as a bit of good-natured disgust from Bertha. It adds to the effectiveness of these female “red herrings” since Donald seems too trusting of attractive women, no matter what their age. But the ladies aren’t the only persons of interest who act strangely whenever Lam gets close to the truth. And, in touch with the genre in the best way, Lam certainly ends up crossing figurative swords with someone who wields more power and has more resources than he does.
As a mystery reader, I often have two goals: 1) to identify the culprit before the author deliberately reveals said culprit and 2) to become emotionally involved enough that I have a “preferred” suspect—even if I think said suspect is a long-shot to have committed the centerpiece crime of the story. In Turn on the Heat, #2 was close enough to make the story very compelling and #1 was obvious enough that I was, apparently, ahead of the investigators. Naturally, part of the smart-aleck in me enjoys that feeling.
For me, there is a special joy in being able to read the A. A. Fair novels. In 1970, these novels were no longer first-run and not easy-to-find. I was the paperback buyer (which usually meant trade paperbacks, but also a few mass paperbacks) at Southern Cal’s University Bookstore. We had one buyer who came up to the special order desk and filled out a request for every one of the A. A. Fair novels. I was able to find two of the titles for him. I also asked my attractive associate at the help/special order desk to ask him, when he picked up the titles, to ask what was so special about what seemed to be “run of the mill” sleazy paperbacks. Why was a person associated with a prominent university’s faculty interested in these books? He explained to my associate that they were written by Erle Stanley Gardner and difficult enough to get hold of that he wanted us to find the books for him. We didn’t deal in used paperbacks (unless they were textbooks), so it was doubly difficult.
So, I didn’t get to read them in 1970 and there was no world wide web to facilitate a search for them. I would occasionally look in libraries and used bookstores, but usually found only Perry Mason novels under the Gardner name—even though many knew of his pen names: A. A. Fair, Carleton Kendrake, and Charles J. Kenny (not to be confused with the medical writer, Charles Kenney). If you wanted the Charles J. Kenny novel, This is Murder, you’d pay hundreds of dollars. Fortunately, Ardai’s Hard Case Crime has republished the bulk, if not all, of the Cool and Lam series. Personally, I plan to make up for my missed opportunity during my university bookstore days.