It’s 1949 and the U.S. economy is booming. Plenty of money to spend on amusements and one of L.A.'s most popular places is the Pier, a beach-side carnival filled with rides, games, and sideshows. Tony Webb is at home there, a carney himself before he went to work in Jerry McGurn’s gambling house. When McGurn got into legal trouble he couldn’t bribe his way out of, he set up Tony to take the rap. Now Tony has “graduated” from Sing-Sing and is back on the streets. And he has a date to meet McGurn on the big ferris wheel.
Homicide detective Art Smith is sent to the Pier when it becomes obvious that someone has shoved a knife into McGurn’s back. Now Smith has to find witnesses, knowing he’ll get nothing from the carneys. But a pretty, young girl was having her picture drawn by sketch artist Amby and she might have seen who was on the wheel with McGurn. All the police have to go by is the picture Amby drew, now torn in half and discarded.
Smith is an old-fashioned cop who memorized the Manual of Police Procedure and sticks to it. His assistant O’Mara is contemptuous of regulations and impatient for advancement. He likes to take short-cuts and the more brutal, the better. Then he finds something that looks much more profitable than being a cop and soon he’s playing both sides of the street.
There’s $50,000 hidden and a key to a safe-deposit box will put the lucky man (or woman) on Easy Street. Tony Webb is looking for it and so are two New York goons who lost money dealing with McGurn. And other people are looking, too, but which ones?
This is a rather conventional “hard-boiled” detective story. Thousands were cranked out in the 1940’s and 50’s and most are highly forgettable. There’s a painfully honest cop and a corrupt, brutal cop, and a tired old Homicide chief who never takes sides. He’s seen it all and will see it all again. There are gangsters and those who deal with them and those they rip off. There are youngsters like Tony Webb. He’s smart, but childhood in an orphanage left him to shift for himself. He’s bitter from experience, but could still go either way.
And there’s a pretty, young woman named Ellen who is whatever the man looking at her wants her to be. Both Tony and Smith fall for her. O’Mara is in love with himself and sees her as a meal-ticket to a big pay-off. And the NYC guns are hoping she can lead them to their money.
I was disappointed by this book and not just because I love Craig Rice’s hilarious mysteries. I think Rice aimed high here, which I admire. But did she miss the mark?
The strength of the book is the author’s lyrical, fascinating description of the Carnival world, which is not a sub-culture, but a life separate from all others. The carneys live by no code but their own and trust no one but each other. They even learn rudimentary sign-language to communicate privately and safely. Rice, the quintessential loner, understood this world and wrote about it lovingly. It’s a shameful waste that the characters in this out-standing setting are two-dimensional and never break out of predictable patterns.
The violence bothered me, especially the sad tale of deaf-and-dumb Amby whose sweetness and innocence makes him a natural target. The essence of hard-boiled writing is that some people deserve to live and others deserve to die. Amby’s story is worth telling, but it’s not enough to make a masterpiece out of this hum-drum book.
If you can get it on sale, give it a quick read, but it’s one of Craig Rice’s weaker efforts. And if you know all of Chandler’s stuff by heart and are looking for more good hard-boiled fiction from this era, check out Milton Ozaki or Jonathan Latimer. Or Erle Stanley Gardner's Cool & Lam series.