Max Allan Collins and Charles Ardai delivered a bit of pun in Double Down. The book is actually two books in one. Readers will enjoy them even more when they read Collins’ explanation of how his “Nolan” series of books ended up with postponed and revised publication. Part of the problem, as he notes in the front matter was that Don Pendleton of The Executioner fame, the best-selling pulp adventure series of one man’s war against the mafia published at least a decade before Marvel’s The Punisher appeared, thought Collins was trying to rip him off because of the similarity in protagonist names (Mack Bolan versus Nolan). No wonder the second novel in Double Down, Hush Money, has a one-man war against the mafia that ends quite differently than either a Bolan novel or a Punisher comic!
One of the fascinating aspects of the Nolan novels is his partnership with a failed artist, comic book nerd named Jon. The nephew of a valued friend and colleague who was murdered, Nolan helped Jon get revenge. In the first novel of Double Down, Fly Paper, the title also is a pun. Part of the story is a skyjacking and part of the story is a revenge plot on behalf of another of Nolan’s former colleagues. Jon assists Nolan in what the experienced hard case (See, I can do word play, too, Charles!) thinks is going to be a straightforward caper. Jon convinces Nolan to accomplish the revenge heist from a headquarters at a regional comic book (and media) convention. Jon surprises Nolan at times in this novel and, as Collins notes from observations of a previous editor, Jon rather humanizes Nolan.
Hush Money also has a dual meaning. It is not only a slang term for paying a person to keep them quiet (although, as a certain former president knows, it doesn’t always work) or for a contract in which a hit man is paid to ensure a person’s permanent silence. In this novel, there are offers of hush money and there are incidents in which the payoffs somewhat backfire.
Yes, both novels are, admittedly, what Collins calls “pulp adventure.” Some of the action scenes and “coincidences” are as improbable as those in The Shadow, The Spider, The Green Hornet, Doc Savage and more modern thrillers, only without the disguises and secret bases. Yet, they are well-written enough to feature what I consider some extremely vivid lines. In one scene, Nolan who is almost a notoriously penurious as Jack Benney, is stuck in a taxi with a garrulous cabbie. Collins writes: “The price in this case was double-stiff: the tinny racket of that disembodied mechanical head hooked to the dash, wolfing down Nolan’s money, was depressing enough, let alone having to put up with the cabbie’s gloomy line of patter.” (p. 66) And, I couldn’t help but shake my head at the cynical humor of law enforcement commenting on a gangster killed by a sniper during a golf outing: “It isn’t every day somebody shoots a hole in one.” (p. 194) At another point, a greedy operator is viewed as likely to: “find yourself in the middle of a job as sloppy as Fibber McGee’s closet and end up in a jail cell about as big.” (p. 224)
Although more perceptive than amusing, I appreciated the observation about a character’s uncontrolled predilection for gambling as compared to alcoholism or sexual addition as practiced, “in dead earnest, with little joy and less success.” (p. 49) Then, even though it is simply stated and hyperbolic, I had to catch my breath when Nolan was described as having “had enough bullets in him to provide ammunition for a banana republic revolution.” (p. 232)
I would hope you could tell that I enjoyed these books a lot. They may be pure escape (duh!) and part of a genre that gets less respect than a broadcast television series, but they are very, very good for their genre.