I got a heads up from my pal Dennis that there was a Amazon book of the month selection Only Way Out by Tod Goldberg (brother of Lee) that needed my attention… the description sounded good… then when I read the blurbs -solid noir, and comps to Elmore Leonard and Charles Portis! Well that clinched it… click, and moved to the next up in my to read list. I can see elements of the comps to those giants, but Tod seems to use dark humor and irony in his crime story to skewer our species’ proclivities to societal and environmental degradation. Tod seems here to be doing for the Pacific Northwest what Carl Hiasson does for Florida… truly a cringeworthy success of 21st century noir.
I’m now going to add his earlier works, specifically his Gangster quartet to my to do list.
Characters & Highlights —
Jack Biddle. “The problem with being a crooked cop? When shit inevitably goes sideways, you’re on your own. This truth came to Officer Jack Biddle way too late. —He couldn’t go to his friends. Only a few knew he possessed such a . . . fungible . . . moral center, and none knew the extent of his mendacity. Most of his true friends couldn’t even define mendacity. —Jack’s personal cell phone rang. Bobby C. Danny Vining’s collections guy. — The cell. Again. This time it was Danny Vining himself. — The obvious answer was he should probably kill Danny Vining. —Danny being dead wouldn’t solve the real problem—that Jack bet with money he didn’t have and lost, again— Jack Biddle owed . . . someone . . . $200,000 he simply did not have. Never had. Jack Biddle did what he always did: He made a bad situation worse and went ahead and fired up another joint.”
Robert Green. “$489,120. That’s what Robert Green owed the federal government, private lenders, and his sister, Penny, for the right to fail the bar exam. Robert had failed the bar exam in New York, California, and Washington a combined fifteen times. It’s not that he was dumb. The core truth, he’d come to realize, was maddeningly simple: He didn’t want to be a lawyer. — Robert Green was getting out. Getting way out. He was midway up Yeach Mountain in a white van he’d bought for eight hundred bucks. — As far as epic heists go, it was pretty easy. Robert Green was the only person at the law firm of Barer & Harris who knew precisely what was in every single safe-deposit box housed on the sixteenth floor inside the firm’s Grade V vault. —like hanging a neon sign that blinked Hide Your Laundered Cash Here —over a decade ago, Robert Green slid, notch by notch, down the ladder at the firm, until he finally landed, five years ago, on the sixteenth floor, managing the three hundred and twenty-four safe-deposit boxes belonging to the 15clients of the 108-year-old firm. —He called Penny. — She had an answer that sounded almost logical to everything. This was the benefit and the curse of her existence. Penny had an IQ of 216. Graduated high school at twelve. Finished the University of Washington at fifteen. —in People magazine for being the youngest grad student at MIT. The headline? “Goth Einstein,” —In between all that, she’d spent a year working for some Russians as an interpreter. It was typical Penny shit. Always on the edge of criminality, like her entire life was a middle finger to their mother…”
Mitch Diamond. “pulled over beside a sign that said VERY STEEP CLIMB AHEAD 14% GRADE -Mitch took down the passenger window to get a better look—Ice pleated the car. The wind whipped. Leaves, twigs, soggy trash, and dirt -got rammed between the windshield and dash and into the air vent. —yanked whatever all the crap was, -a twenty-dollar bill and two fifties. —checked the soft shoulder for more cash. He didn’t find any. —did find someone’s wedding photo from what looked like the 1950’s —and a torn envelope stamped PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL. —Mitch turned and saw that a Granite Shores Police Tahoe was idling beside his car, window down cop looking at him with crazy eyes. —“I’ll take that,” Mitch handed him the trash. The cop looked at the photo. “Look at that. Probably been sitting by the road for fifty years.” “Boot print is fresh,” Mitch said. The cop tore it in half and in half again, dumped it on the floor of his Tahoe. Weirdest. Did the same with envelope. “You’ll be over the hill soon enough. —I’m here to get you over, if you want get get moving.” Mitch put the cash behind his fake driver’s license. A little lucky money.” —In town, Penny in “Mel’s Cosmics Comics looking for answers. -man in the New Age section…Penny thinking, Okay, he’s going to make his move now. He walked up to the counter, set down a twenty. “You mind letting him know I got two Mack Bolan novels?” “You could just wait.” I don’t want anyone to see my face,” he said. She did strangely. And then he was gone. —“ Didn’t seem like a Mack Bolan guy. He spent ten minutes educating me on the history of Richard Bach.” “You never really know someone until you see their bookshelves,” Penny said. “Isn’t that true,” Corey said. —“Didn’t seem like a Mack Bolan guy. He spent ten minutes educating me on the history of Richard Bach.” “You never really know someone until you see their bookshelves,” Penny said.” —Mitch had Addie drop him off at the comic book shop…told her to find him at the clam chowder spot. —Addie walked into the clam chowder spot— “You’re lat.” “Did you report me missing?” She dug another hunk of bead out. “That’s good.” “Always get the bread bowl,” Mitch said. “That’s my motto.”
Dirty cop. “Jack Biddle came to two conclusions: Number one, he was now a rich person. Cash alone, he had a couple million dollars. Number two: Jack Biddle needed to kill Penny Green. — So maybe . . . he wouldn’t kill Penny. He’d arrest her for the break-in, seize that cash, get the judge interested, hope the heist got discovered by the law firm by then, but if not, surely that boat would have some intel about Robert Green on it, and then Jack could really be the hero. — The boat belonged to Mort Green, Penny and Robert’s dipshit father, an insurance fraud expert—as in, he was expert in burning shit down for insurance money—who pals with Jack’s father, Owen, because they all grew up on the same block, the Pere-a-Dice looked . . . good. New sails. Two satellite domes. A full suite of Garmin navigational computers in the cockpit, all under a brand-new Bimini top — This boat was getting ready to go somewhere. — good time to put one in her, if he was so inclined. But he liked the idea of being a hero. Of solving this whole deal man, there was something fuzzy in his head right now. That one-hitter was coming on strong. It was weed he’d found in one of the van’s boxes, Jack thinking that would be some primo shit, and it was, it was, but maybe it had PCP in it? Or some crystal? He had no damn idea what was happening between his brain and his mouth. Shit. But whatever. Jack Biddle was in it now.”
Well you should be in it now too… Only Way Out… $5 wherever ebooks are sold. My 500+ highlights are visible… but you really should read the book.