The Holy Grail is Ernest Hemingway’s stolen suitcase full of first drafts. The setting is a run-down hotel in a Mexican town with a population of sixty people and ninety-two stray dogs. The dramatis personae are a writer whose best-sellers feature Alastair McMerkin, the Scottish vampire detective, a conman, a couple of hitmen, an ex-cop with a murky past, an odd-job man who is surprisingly handy with a gun, a shady dealer in first editions, and a hired killer called Pieta.
Henry Cooper (Coop) has come to Pendira to write a real book. He’s made lots of money out of the Alastair McMerkin books (written under the pseudonym Toulouse Velour) but he’s never got over the scathing reviews of his first novel, pre-McMerkin:
"The book critic for the Washington Post suggested my novel made a solid case to reconsider book-burning. The Chicago Reader merely printed the first page with the suggestion it be used to line birdcages… "
An even deeper wound is his father’s comment on his first novel: "It’s no John Grisham." Now he’s planning to kill off McMerkin and write a novel" bereft of Scots, vampires, and genital euphemisms. Even better than John Grisham."
Life is quiet in the Hotel Baja until two thugs try to abduct a young man who’s just checked in under an obviously fake name. They’ve been sent to get him because he’s stolen a first draft of a Hemingway novel, but there’s even more to it. He’s the grandson of the man who’s said to have stolen Hemingway’s suitcase in 1922 and brought it to Mexico. Henry is sucked into a fast and furious hunt for the suitcase, pursued across Mexico by the sinister book-dealer and the hired killer Pieta. The ex-cop Grady and the mysterious odd-job man Digby, in a sly homage to old-fashioned Wild West heroes, pull off miraculous rescues in apparently desperate situations, and it all comes to a head in an old Apache stronghold on the top of the mesa. Throw in a whole lot of literary jokes and cynical worldly wisdom and you have a fizzing crackling brew that will keep you on the hook and give you lots of laughs. The macho personality of Hemingway is part of the joke, but I don’t think old Ernest, who took himself very seriously, would be laughing at this takedown.
Clever, funny, highly original – yes, Coop, worthy of John Grisham.