Reed Arvin, The Last Goodbye (Harper, 2004)
Before you read the rest of this review, do yourself a favor. Go to Amazon (if you're not reading it there) and put this book on pre-order. Then come back and finish.
Done? Okay.
The Last Goodbye is Reed Arvin's second novel, so I can't call it the most stunning debut I've read in the last two years (and I've read a bunch of them). And, to be fair, it does have a few minor faults here and there. But it's still better than most any thriller you've read in the last twelve months.
The story of Jack Hammond is so full of plot twists and turns that even explaining the first twenty pages would cause spoileritis (in other words, don't read any reviews but this one, or you'll lose the effect of the end of chapter one). Suffice to say that Jack Hammond is a lawyer whose buddy ends up dead. He wants to find out why. "Why" involves an internationally famous opera singer, a clinical trial of a new hepatitis-C drug, one of the most powerful lawyers in Atlanta, the main drug runner in Atlanta's biggest section of projects, computer hackers, and a whole cast of various freaks, outcasts, degenerates, and other generally fun human beings.
What kept going through my mind as I was reading this was that this was the return of the hard-boiled detective novel. Let's face it, the hard-boiled detective has gotten kind of, well, cuddly over the last thirty years. And as wonderful as Spenser is, we have to blame him for this. I mean, the guy cooks shrimp scampi in his spare time, when he's not getting beaten by thugs. Jack Hammond is no Spenser. He has more in common with Mike Hammer (and while that may not sound like a compliment, it is). The shysters talk fast, the dames are beautiful, the mugs get beat, the bullets fly, the mystery is solved only to find two more mysteries beneath. But layered over all that is the one thing it's impossible to write a book about Atlanta in the twenty-first century without addressing: race. So in actuality, The Last Goodbye is what might have happened if the new, improved hardboiled detective had taken a left at Robert Parker instead of a right.
The conclusion is obvious. And while two novels into a career is not a time to stand up and proclaim Reed Arvin as the next Robert Parker, or even the next Spillane, he's got the goods, he's got the mindset, he's got the potential. Read this book. ****