I give this book five stars not because it’s deep or life-changing. It’s entertainment. It doesn’t attempt the match the depth and insight of the great classics. I give it five stars because it’s a master class in storytelling, and for what it is, it’s very good.
I had not read Ed McBain before, though I had certainly heard of him. McBain is one of Evan Hunter’s many pen names. Hunter wrote across a variety of genres, including sci-fi, mystery, crime, children’s books, and possibly porn, though he never fessed up to it. In what must be one of the most unexpected collaborations in film history, he adapted one of Daphne du Maurier’s short stories into the screenplay of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds.
Doll is the twentieth of the fifty-five novels in McBain’s 87th Precinct series. It’s a procedural in which detectives Steve Carella, Meyer Meyer and Bert Kling must solve the murder of twenty-nine-year-old fashion model Tinka Sachs. The description of the murder, which occurs in the opening chapter, is graphic and brutal. It’s made worse by the perspective from which we experience it. Tinka’s five-year-old daughter, listening to her mother being murdered on the other side of her bedroom wall, speaks soothingly and desperately to her doll, telling it not to be frightened, that everything will be okay.
Doll also refers to the model, Tinka, and to Detective Steve Carella, who soon finds himself in a harrowing, life-threatening situation inside the killer’s apartment, trapped by a deeply disturbing psychopath who wants to torture and kill him.
Procedurals are, by nature, formulaic tales. They start with a crime and walk through the process of how investigators solve that crime. They involve interviews with witnesses, reports from forensics labs, and usually the day-to-day struggles of the investigators themselves. In the wrong hands, formulaic stories can be tedious and predictable. Writers who haven’t mastered the elements of plot, tone, characterization, and pacing often try to spice up the formula with gimmicks, unexpected twists, or over-the-top characters that come off as improbable and sometimes even insulting to the reader’s intelligence. The result is an unsatisfying experience.
There seem to be lots of these books in the mystery/thriller genre in the past few decades. I mean books with wildly unreliable narrators, psychopathic villains whose demented cruelty is beyond perversion, tormented genius cops guided by vengeance and a sixth sense for sniffing out bad guys, gratuitous twists that turn the narrative upside-down in some unconvincing way that makes the reader feel swindled. It’s as if publishers need a hook in the book’s marketing copy to sell a story that can’t otherwise sell itself.
When a story is well told, you become too immersed in it the notice the formula. For a while, McBain cranked out four novels a year in the 87th Precinct series. Erle Stanley Gardner, also a prolific master storyteller, published Perry Mason novels at a similar pace, with a similarly high level of polish and skill. Both are masters. While their books may look from the outside like mass-market pulp, one should keep in mind that The Beatles too wrote to a pop formula. They just happened to do it better than everyone else.
Because McBain and Gardner were so prolific, they didn’t waste time on unnecessary ornament, or pad out their stories with a lot of fluff. They wrote the bones, and they wrote them well. A writer who wants to learn plotting, pacing, setting, characterization and tone would do well to study these two authors.
The tension and the stakes in Doll ratchet up as the story progresses. Neither the reader nor the cops are sure who killed Tinka Sachs until the very end, but both know that the clock is ticking on Detective Carella’s life. Editor Geoffrey O’Brien included this novel in the Library of America’s Crime Novels of the 1960s box set, and I can see why. This one gets five stars for being a good, old-fashioned satisfying read.