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87th Precinct #48
Nocturne
Just in case anybody thought the 47 earlier novels in the 87th precinct were a fluke, McBain's gone and revitalized the routine with Nocturne"". -- The New York Times Book ReviewIn Isola, the hours between midnight and dawn are usually a quiet time. But for 87th Precinct detectives Carella and Hawes, the murder of an old woman makes the wee hours anything but peaceful -- especially when they learn she was one of the greatest concert pianists of the century long vanished. Meanwhile 88th Precinct cop Fat Ollie Weeks has his own early morning he's on the trail of three prep school boys and a crack dealer who spent the evening carving up a hooker.
322 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 1, 1997
88 people are currently reading
580 people want to read
About the author
Ed McBain
710 books668 followers"Ed McBain" is one of the pen names of American author and screenwriter Salvatore Albert Lombino (1926-2005), who legally adopted the name
Evan Hunter
in 1952.
While successful and well known as Evan Hunter, he was even better known as Ed McBain, a name he used for most of his crime fiction, beginning in 1956.
He also used the pen names John Abbott, Curt Cannon, Hunt Collins, Ezra Hannon, Dean Hudson, Evan Hunter, and Richard Marsten.
While successful and well known as Evan Hunter, he was even better known as Ed McBain, a name he used for most of his crime fiction, beginning in 1956.
He also used the pen names John Abbott, Curt Cannon, Hunt Collins, Ezra Hannon, Dean Hudson, Evan Hunter, and Richard Marsten.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 94 reviews
March 4, 2016
This entry in the 87th Precinct series takes place during a week in which the main characters of the series are working the graveyard shift. Just as they come on duty at 11:45 p.m., detectives Steve Carella and Cotton Hawes catch the murder of an elderly woman who has been shot to death along with her cat. A bedroom window is open and it appears at first glance that the woman was shot by a burglar who surprised her when she returned home from the liquor store.
The detectives quickly discover that in her younger years the victim was a world-renowned concert pianist. But in her old age, she had become extremely arthritic, could no longer play, and was reduced to listening to recordings of her glory days. She was living in poverty, apparently scraping by with just enough to afford fresh fish for her beloved cat every day.
Meanwhile in another part of town three prep school football players are loose in the Big City, looking for action. They find it with a twenty-year-old prostitute and a crack dealer who cross their path in the wee hours of the morning. Nothing good can come of this, and nothing will. This case falls to detective Fat Ollie Weeks, who will investigate the crimes involved as only he can.
The investigations proceed through the next several days and nights. The parallel stories are intricately plotted with lots of twists and turns, and this winds up being one of the better books in the series. At one point, Carella and Hawes wind up investigating a clue that involves a Cadillac that contains a number of bird feathers and more than a little bird poop. This leads to a running joke about Alfred Hitchcock's famous film, "The Birds," in which none of the characters can remember who wrote the screenplay for the movie. The inside joke is, of course, that the screenwriter was Ed McBain, writing under his real name, Evan Hunter. All in all, a very good read.
The detectives quickly discover that in her younger years the victim was a world-renowned concert pianist. But in her old age, she had become extremely arthritic, could no longer play, and was reduced to listening to recordings of her glory days. She was living in poverty, apparently scraping by with just enough to afford fresh fish for her beloved cat every day.
Meanwhile in another part of town three prep school football players are loose in the Big City, looking for action. They find it with a twenty-year-old prostitute and a crack dealer who cross their path in the wee hours of the morning. Nothing good can come of this, and nothing will. This case falls to detective Fat Ollie Weeks, who will investigate the crimes involved as only he can.
The investigations proceed through the next several days and nights. The parallel stories are intricately plotted with lots of twists and turns, and this winds up being one of the better books in the series. At one point, Carella and Hawes wind up investigating a clue that involves a Cadillac that contains a number of bird feathers and more than a little bird poop. This leads to a running joke about Alfred Hitchcock's famous film, "The Birds," in which none of the characters can remember who wrote the screenplay for the movie. The inside joke is, of course, that the screenwriter was Ed McBain, writing under his real name, Evan Hunter. All in all, a very good read.
July 5, 2017
I guess I have read too many British police procedurals to appreciate the 87th Precinct series, set in an unidentified large American city. I thought the writing was choppy and all over the place and I never got a feel for the detectives' personalities or attitudes. The plot was fairly interesting but some questions were not answered. I realize that Ed McBain has been a best selling author with this series but it just wasn't for me.
November 19, 2021
Nocturne (87th Precinct, #48) by Ed McBain.
I listened to this book on CD read by the author. My experience in the past of authors reading their own books was not positive as a matter of fact I usually return them unfinished. That was definitely not so with this entry. The author's reading was spot on and so was this book. I became so caught up in this story I intend to continue his 87th Precinct series. BTW...the author included the most wonderful jazz music during intervals.
I listened to this book on CD read by the author. My experience in the past of authors reading their own books was not positive as a matter of fact I usually return them unfinished. That was definitely not so with this entry. The author's reading was spot on and so was this book. I became so caught up in this story I intend to continue his 87th Precinct series. BTW...the author included the most wonderful jazz music during intervals.
June 29, 2014
Steve Carella and Cotton Hawes are working the graveyard shift when they catch two squeals: one is the murder of a poor elderly citizen (and her cat), which seems to be a botched robbery, but nothing is missing. The victim turns out to be a once renowned classical pianist, but is complicated when the detectives discover she had withdrawn $125,000 from her bank on the day she was murdered. And, the money is missing. Her estranged granddaughter gets a note to look in a locker, where her guys report there is only $5,000 and a note that this money is to help her career. Steve and Cotton follow a twisted path of the murder weapon to find the killer. At the end of their shift, a murdered prostitute is found in an alley. Eventually, ace detective "Fat Ollie" Weeks links her death to the killing of a pimp and drug dealer. Despite his feeling that the world is a better place without the two, Ollie tracks down the perpetrators to their unusual lair. I liked some of the imagery of Isola in this one.
June 30, 2018
Another good outing for the team from the 87th, investigating the murder of an old woman, a lonely ex-concert pianist, as the various shifts work together to follow the trail of the gun which killed her. Carella and Hawes also attend the scene of a murdered prostitute but the case passes to Fat Ollie Weeks at the 86th, as he investigates two linked killings involving some young men, a drug dealer and a pimp. This book is the usual high standard of police procedural that this series has demonstrated over more then 40 years.
January 12, 2017
Thouroughly enjoyed it! Boy can he write.
Isn't he the guy who wrote the screenplay for that Hitchcock movie?
Isn't he the guy who wrote the screenplay for that Hitchcock movie?
April 7, 2024
Liest sich wie ein Drehbuch eines B-Movies aus den 90ern. Die Dialoge zwischen den Polizisten und den Verhörten sind schnelle, einzeilige Wortwechsel, die durch unnötige Nachfragen noch in die Länge gezogen werden. Charaktere gibt es nicht, Szenen werden nur kurz beschrieben. Es herrscht das gesprochene Wort. Für diese Art Krimiliteratur wurde der Autor wohl gefeiert. Es war überhaupt nicht mein Stil, daher Abbruch nach einem Drittel.
July 15, 2025
A rather melancholic plot - the murder of a once-famous pianist - is coupled with a slight overdose of sleaze, in typical Mc Bain style.
Svetlana Dyalovich is an elderly alcoholic, who used to be an excellent pianist, but who’s now living alone and lonely (with exception of beloved cat Irina). When she gets murdered with her cat, the guys from the 87th immediately think about a burglary gone wrong.
But why kill the cat and what was to steal in her grotty apartment? Enters the first slice of sleaze, in the shape of bratty granddaughter Priscilla, who for no reason - apart Mc Bain penchant for borderline porn - shares her bed with two goons.
Granny should have left Priscilla a much underserved fortune, but the chain of delivery is much too long. The money goes missing and Priscilla and goons start investigating. Meanwhile, the detectives spend a very long time tracing the murder weapon, slipping into a plot involving birds and lots of in-jokes (Mc Bain wrote the screenplay for Hitchcock’s The Birds and he loved to reference this in almost every 87th precinct story).
Meanwhile, a 19 yo prostitute gets murdered during a five-ways... herself and four customers, all named Richard, none even remotely likable. We’re not spared details of the girl’s demise and everything that preceded it. This plot seems to have been tacked in, mainly because the murder of old Svetlana is a most melancholic affair and Mc Bain was afraid the audience may get too sad.
However, not even Fat Ollie can work much light relief miracles, with such a debauched murder and all its unsavory participants.
Svetlana Dyalovich is an elderly alcoholic, who used to be an excellent pianist, but who’s now living alone and lonely (with exception of beloved cat Irina). When she gets murdered with her cat, the guys from the 87th immediately think about a burglary gone wrong.
But why kill the cat and what was to steal in her grotty apartment? Enters the first slice of sleaze, in the shape of bratty granddaughter Priscilla, who for no reason - apart Mc Bain penchant for borderline porn - shares her bed with two goons.
Granny should have left Priscilla a much underserved fortune, but the chain of delivery is much too long. The money goes missing and Priscilla and goons start investigating. Meanwhile, the detectives spend a very long time tracing the murder weapon, slipping into a plot involving birds and lots of in-jokes (Mc Bain wrote the screenplay for Hitchcock’s The Birds and he loved to reference this in almost every 87th precinct story).
Meanwhile, a 19 yo prostitute gets murdered during a five-ways... herself and four customers, all named Richard, none even remotely likable. We’re not spared details of the girl’s demise and everything that preceded it. This plot seems to have been tacked in, mainly because the murder of old Svetlana is a most melancholic affair and Mc Bain was afraid the audience may get too sad.
However, not even Fat Ollie can work much light relief miracles, with such a debauched murder and all its unsavory participants.
September 3, 2008
A fantastic book! A true police procedural, in that it focuses on the procedure of solving a crime.
There is no hero with a drinking problem, or a past best forgotten, or atoning for past sins.
This is not a buddy-cop drama.
There is no overdrawn chase scene.
There is no unlikely love interest.
The dialogue is dialogue and not verbal winks and nods leaving the reader having to guess what the characters intended to say.
"Nocturne" avoids all these pitfalls so common to hard-boiled detective novels and in so doing succeeds tremendously. McBain focuses on the dogged pursuit of evidence and follow-up on leads, buildng the case nicely on the police side of the story, while simultaneously providing the reader with the story of what has occurred, and does so effectively and intelligently.
This is my first Ed McBain book, chosen pretty much at random. Hopefully "Nocturne" is representative of his work; if so, I'll be reading his novels for many years to come.
There is no hero with a drinking problem, or a past best forgotten, or atoning for past sins.
This is not a buddy-cop drama.
There is no overdrawn chase scene.
There is no unlikely love interest.
The dialogue is dialogue and not verbal winks and nods leaving the reader having to guess what the characters intended to say.
"Nocturne" avoids all these pitfalls so common to hard-boiled detective novels and in so doing succeeds tremendously. McBain focuses on the dogged pursuit of evidence and follow-up on leads, buildng the case nicely on the police side of the story, while simultaneously providing the reader with the story of what has occurred, and does so effectively and intelligently.
This is my first Ed McBain book, chosen pretty much at random. Hopefully "Nocturne" is representative of his work; if so, I'll be reading his novels for many years to come.
September 22, 2014
I read the German translation of this (German title: Long Dark Night) a long time ago, for reviewing in a students' magazine - now adding it here because I've decided to give it to a Public Bookcase (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Public_b...). With the popularity of violent crime novels, I'm sure other readers find it perfectly digestable.
It's not a bad book, it's just not my kind of thing. In fact, it's probably the most traumatising thing I've ever read, which is why I've decided I don't want it around anymore. This probably speaks for the quality of the writing, though. The depravity and violence in the lives of the characters is made so lively as to make reading physically repulsive to me. The detectives themselves being fairly good guys struggling to maintain some semblance of dignity in the world they are forced to inhabit isn't enough to make the whole thing more palatable to me.
It's not a bad book, it's just not my kind of thing. In fact, it's probably the most traumatising thing I've ever read, which is why I've decided I don't want it around anymore. This probably speaks for the quality of the writing, though. The depravity and violence in the lives of the characters is made so lively as to make reading physically repulsive to me. The detectives themselves being fairly good guys struggling to maintain some semblance of dignity in the world they are forced to inhabit isn't enough to make the whole thing more palatable to me.
January 30, 2015
Best McBain so far. Intricate plot and everything links up at the end. Quite a violent storyline, relieved by McBain's sense of humour. First time I've actually cried over one of his books. This was at the end, where Carella is home with his family. Such a lovely normal scene after all the evil.
October 29, 2019
One of the most exciting stories in the series!
April 17, 2023
Another book with several interrelated crimes. The murder of a former concert pianist is the main focus here with initial crime leading to several more. When all is revealed it's a sad tale and not all is as it first appears.
February 11, 2018
My first experience of Ed McBain, and I found Nocturne so engrossing. It began with a bang, literally and figuratively with the murder of an elderly lady, her body discovered in her apartment. This lady had been a world class concert, Svetlana Dyalovich, known as Mrs Helder by her neighbours.
This lady had fallen on hard times and was living an impoverished and lonely life. There are mysteries surrounding her life and her death. But meantime another body is discovered, a young woman horribly killed, left lying in a gutter. She is a sex worker, and has a pimp, who sent her out to work that night and was expecting her home.
We soon discover that three young students, all called Richard are responsible for this misdeed.
But there are still more murders, more mysteries to unfold, more bodies for the police to discover and the mystery of the gun that killed Svetlana.
Detectives Carella and Hawes are kept busy, arresting, questioning and bringing their suspects to court to face the consequences of their misdeeds. The characters are well written, well rounded and sympathetic, there is insight into the behaviours and misbehaviours of suspects, its not hard to see what led them into their life of crime. There is sympathy for the victims of crime and also many laugh aloud moments, a lot of black and irreverent humour, all of which made this an intriguing and exciting read. I am now an Ed McBain fan, on the strength of this novel and I would recommend it to anyone who needs a diverting and exciting read.
This lady had fallen on hard times and was living an impoverished and lonely life. There are mysteries surrounding her life and her death. But meantime another body is discovered, a young woman horribly killed, left lying in a gutter. She is a sex worker, and has a pimp, who sent her out to work that night and was expecting her home.
We soon discover that three young students, all called Richard are responsible for this misdeed.
But there are still more murders, more mysteries to unfold, more bodies for the police to discover and the mystery of the gun that killed Svetlana.
Detectives Carella and Hawes are kept busy, arresting, questioning and bringing their suspects to court to face the consequences of their misdeeds. The characters are well written, well rounded and sympathetic, there is insight into the behaviours and misbehaviours of suspects, its not hard to see what led them into their life of crime. There is sympathy for the victims of crime and also many laugh aloud moments, a lot of black and irreverent humour, all of which made this an intriguing and exciting read. I am now an Ed McBain fan, on the strength of this novel and I would recommend it to anyone who needs a diverting and exciting read.
February 19, 2021
Další týden, další McBain. Cíl je už na dohled!
A jak to čtu postupně, tak už vážně netuším, jestli je to pořád dobré, nebo se mi prostě jen polehounku snižují nároky.
Jasně, jsou tady věci, které McBain prostě recykluje a pokud to čtete soustavně, tak to jasně vidíte. Věci z kategorie „čtenáři to chtějí“. Monoghan a Monroe. Diskuze o filmech. Vyprávění vtipů. A samozřejmě, znovu a znovu popisované postavy. Naštěstí to není v nějaké nepřežitelné míře, spíš jen takové ozdůbky, aby si člověk stále uvědomil, že čte 87. revír.
I zahušťování zápletek se projevuje jen v několika zásadních kombinacích. Máte tu obvykle jeden dominantní případ a vedle něj buď něco, co se silněji týká hrdinů, nebo je tu větší důraz na svět zločinců. Občas taky McBain vytáhne superpadoucha čili Hluchého… nebo pak spoustu případů najednou. Tady McBain vraždu staré chudé klavíristky zahustil pátráním její dcery, plány jejich milenců a vražedným soubojem čtyř Richardů. Tenhle střet klasické policejní vyšetřovačky s elmoreleonardovskou kriminálkou použil už v minulosti několikrát – a stále to funguje. Což ovšem znamená, že tady policajti ustupují do pozadí a jen Carella tu má povinnou idylickou scénu s hluchoněmou manželkou. Vlastně asi nejvýraznější postavou je tu Ollie Weeks, ze kterého se pomalu stává hlavní hrdina celé série. Jo, je to rasista, působí odpudivě a smrtí – ale je to dobrý polda. Tahle nebinárnost by asi už dneska moc neprošla.
Ať ovšem píše McBain z 87. revíru cokoliv, ať používá jakékoli triky - pořád mu to šlape.
A jak to čtu postupně, tak už vážně netuším, jestli je to pořád dobré, nebo se mi prostě jen polehounku snižují nároky.
Jasně, jsou tady věci, které McBain prostě recykluje a pokud to čtete soustavně, tak to jasně vidíte. Věci z kategorie „čtenáři to chtějí“. Monoghan a Monroe. Diskuze o filmech. Vyprávění vtipů. A samozřejmě, znovu a znovu popisované postavy. Naštěstí to není v nějaké nepřežitelné míře, spíš jen takové ozdůbky, aby si člověk stále uvědomil, že čte 87. revír.
I zahušťování zápletek se projevuje jen v několika zásadních kombinacích. Máte tu obvykle jeden dominantní případ a vedle něj buď něco, co se silněji týká hrdinů, nebo je tu větší důraz na svět zločinců. Občas taky McBain vytáhne superpadoucha čili Hluchého… nebo pak spoustu případů najednou. Tady McBain vraždu staré chudé klavíristky zahustil pátráním její dcery, plány jejich milenců a vražedným soubojem čtyř Richardů. Tenhle střet klasické policejní vyšetřovačky s elmoreleonardovskou kriminálkou použil už v minulosti několikrát – a stále to funguje. Což ovšem znamená, že tady policajti ustupují do pozadí a jen Carella tu má povinnou idylickou scénu s hluchoněmou manželkou. Vlastně asi nejvýraznější postavou je tu Ollie Weeks, ze kterého se pomalu stává hlavní hrdina celé série. Jo, je to rasista, působí odpudivě a smrtí – ale je to dobrý polda. Tahle nebinárnost by asi už dneska moc neprošla.
Ať ovšem píše McBain z 87. revíru cokoliv, ať používá jakékoli triky - pořád mu to šlape.
December 6, 2012
"Nocturne" tells the stories of two murder investigations during the "morning" shift (midnight-8am). Fat Ollie Weeks's case, the dead protitute, we know what happened, but watch as he puts it all together. We don't know what happened in the murder of an elderly former concert pianist; it unfolds to us as Detectives Carella and Hawes work the case. Very interesting in the contrast of the cases; I really enjoyed it.
March 5, 2016
McBain was in his prime at this time. He was, without doubt, the boss of crime fiction. But he was also an incredibly skillful, nuanced writer. It doesn't get any better.
July 29, 2024
Who would want to kill a poor old lady, who had once been an internationally acclaimed pianist? Is this just a typical NYC break-in that went wrong?
Ed McBain weaves a tale, with many different threads, that at first, seem unconnected. However, as the story progresses, all will become clear.
Great quick read and I have never been disappointed with selections from this author.
Ed McBain weaves a tale, with many different threads, that at first, seem unconnected. However, as the story progresses, all will become clear.
Great quick read and I have never been disappointed with selections from this author.
December 1, 2024
Back to #EdMcBain’s 8-7 with Nocturne, a book that reminds me why I like the earlier installments in the series more than these later entries. A couple of interesting cases, but the story is too bloated and leans heavily into sadism at one point. Not a fave, unfortunately.
December 8, 2023
Carella and Hawes are on the graveyard shift and catch a homicide of an elderly woman, who turns out to have been a Russian virtuoso concert pianist. Now down to harder times. Then a young prostitute is found dead in an alleyway and Fat Ollie turns up and follows the leads. Carella and Hawes soon find their trail leads to the fish market and the piano playing granddaughter.
The regular gang and lots of slogging police work bring the case to a close. 4 stars.
The regular gang and lots of slogging police work bring the case to a close. 4 stars.
November 11, 2021
For more crime, pulp and horror reviews visit:
Wordpress: https://criminolly.com/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC351...
I wasn’t planning to write a full length review of this entry in the 87th Precinct series, but it’s such an interesting example of McBain’s craft I felt compelled to once I’d finished it.
It’s very much a book of two halves. It’s common for these books to have two or more storylines, but I’m not sure the difference between two parallel plots has ever been as stark as it is here. There’s a cosy caper that feels a bit like the one of those 60s Hitchcock films with Cary Grant, with Carella and Hawes investigating the murder of an old woman and her cat, whilst the victim’s lounge singer granddaughter also chases down the facts. She is accompanied by a comic duo who are both her bodyguards and her lovers and the book contains a brilliantly funny sex scene, as well as some wonderfully farcical moments where both they and the cops keep nearly running into each other. I’m fact ‘Nocturne’ had me laughing out loud more than any other recent book in the series.
On the other hand, Fat Ollie Weeks investigates a crime spree perpetrated by 3 privileged white college boys in Diamondback, the predominantly black borough of the city. This storyline contains a number of moments of casual violence which are both nauseating and chilling. One murder is so murder so graphic and horrid that it matches anything you might read in a horror novel. It leaves that half of the book feeling like the lost Bret Easton Ellis novel between Less Than Zero and American Psycho
The huge gulf between the two plots left me wondering whether ‘Nocturne’ was a failed experiment on McBain’s part or a work of genius. I think I’ve ended up leaning towards the latter, with the contrasts that the book throws up feeling measured and deliberate rather than haphazard. If nothing else, McBain is highlighting the whole spectrum of humanity. That can lead to this being a very tough read at times, even though it is peppered with his trademark humour.
Wordpress: https://criminolly.com/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC351...
I wasn’t planning to write a full length review of this entry in the 87th Precinct series, but it’s such an interesting example of McBain’s craft I felt compelled to once I’d finished it.
It’s very much a book of two halves. It’s common for these books to have two or more storylines, but I’m not sure the difference between two parallel plots has ever been as stark as it is here. There’s a cosy caper that feels a bit like the one of those 60s Hitchcock films with Cary Grant, with Carella and Hawes investigating the murder of an old woman and her cat, whilst the victim’s lounge singer granddaughter also chases down the facts. She is accompanied by a comic duo who are both her bodyguards and her lovers and the book contains a brilliantly funny sex scene, as well as some wonderfully farcical moments where both they and the cops keep nearly running into each other. I’m fact ‘Nocturne’ had me laughing out loud more than any other recent book in the series.
On the other hand, Fat Ollie Weeks investigates a crime spree perpetrated by 3 privileged white college boys in Diamondback, the predominantly black borough of the city. This storyline contains a number of moments of casual violence which are both nauseating and chilling. One murder is so murder so graphic and horrid that it matches anything you might read in a horror novel. It leaves that half of the book feeling like the lost Bret Easton Ellis novel between Less Than Zero and American Psycho
The huge gulf between the two plots left me wondering whether ‘Nocturne’ was a failed experiment on McBain’s part or a work of genius. I think I’ve ended up leaning towards the latter, with the contrasts that the book throws up feeling measured and deliberate rather than haphazard. If nothing else, McBain is highlighting the whole spectrum of humanity. That can lead to this being a very tough read at times, even though it is peppered with his trademark humour.
May 24, 2016
#48 in the 87th Precinct mystery series.
An 87th Precinct mystery - Carella and Hawes catch the case of Svetlana Dyalovich Helder, an elderly Russian woman shot to death at her modest apartment. In her youth an acclaimed pianist who played the great concert halls of America and Europe, Svetlana, at the time of her death, lived on welfare, drank too much and listened to old 78 rpm recordings of her glory days. The murder motive looks like burglary until Carella and Hawes learn that Svetlana had withdrawn $125,000 from her bank hours earlier. A neighbor reports having seen a tall blond man at Svetlana's door shortly before the murder. After the shooting, a blond man delivered a package to the hotel where Svetlana's granddaughter, Priscilla, stayed. Meantime, over in the 88th, "Fat Ollie" Weeks investigates the deaths of a pimp and a drug dealer. That leads to a sexually mutilated hooker, also killed the night before, and a bookie who remembers a tall, blond bettor looking for a gun.
An 87th Precinct mystery - Carella and Hawes catch the case of Svetlana Dyalovich Helder, an elderly Russian woman shot to death at her modest apartment. In her youth an acclaimed pianist who played the great concert halls of America and Europe, Svetlana, at the time of her death, lived on welfare, drank too much and listened to old 78 rpm recordings of her glory days. The murder motive looks like burglary until Carella and Hawes learn that Svetlana had withdrawn $125,000 from her bank hours earlier. A neighbor reports having seen a tall blond man at Svetlana's door shortly before the murder. After the shooting, a blond man delivered a package to the hotel where Svetlana's granddaughter, Priscilla, stayed. Meantime, over in the 88th, "Fat Ollie" Weeks investigates the deaths of a pimp and a drug dealer. That leads to a sexually mutilated hooker, also killed the night before, and a bookie who remembers a tall, blond bettor looking for a gun.
August 22, 2009
Coming on the heels of "Mischief" and "Romance," this was the 48th entry in McBain's 87th Precinct series and so far is one of my favorites. The action centers on the shooting murder of a woman in her mid-80s who had once been a celebrated concert pianist. This marvelous procedural then expands outward to encompass characters and subplots of the sort that any McBain fan would have come to expect. The final twist might be a bit contrived, but I was willing to accept it as part of the ride. Particularly amusing to me is the recurring theme involving various characters who refer to "The Birds, that movie that Alfred Hitchcock wrote." Detective Steve Carella finds himself constantly correcting these people: "I don't think Hitchcock actually WROTE that..." The joke, of course, is that Ed McBain-- aka Evan Hunter-- actually did write the script for that movie, and in fact followed "Nocturne" up with a small paperback about his experiences on that film, "Me and Hitch."
January 3, 2021
Just an OK book from Ed McBain. I liked the storyline where detectives Carella and Hawes investigate the murder of an old lady who in her younger days was a world famous piano player. Then you have the other part of the book which I hated. Three out of town prep school assholes murder a young prostitute (in violently disgusting detail). Then they kill some crackhead and cut the throat of her pimp. Even fat Ollie couldn't save this part of the book. I gave it 3 stars instead of 2 because I did like the first storyline and I'm also really familiar with the characters in this series. I hated the ending too.
May 31, 2013
A exciting book of the 87th Precinct series. A great plot, probably more down to earth investigating and thinking than what we normally see, and a unique blend of action. In one murder there are a set of subsequent murders that involve a different type criminal. As a result of the multiple murders we have members of the 88th Precinct also chasing murderers. This is the first I have read of this series but I shall definitely check out a few more. Well written, exciting plots.
Read
May 22, 2015The audio version I listened to is notable for its rather bizarre soundtrack. It's rather like a small child ran amok in HMV, grabbing CDs at random, although I will admit there is no Prince or Def Leppard.
November 23, 2019
Really good entry in the series. McBain takes multiple story lines and investigations and ultimately threads them together - an interesting approach that I don’t recall him trying before. And Fat Ollie is around which is always entertaining.
July 14, 2025
I think the writing is crisp and effective here. He sets up a pace, and maintains it, and the two contrasting plot lines work well together.
However, only three stars from me because I found the murder of Yolande, a young woman of (I think) 19, unpleasantly disturbing. A sex worker, she agrees to a four-way event, fuelled by cocaine. The three white guys on a night out are all called Richard, which is amusing until it isn't.
McBain has made it clear from the start that Yolande is going to die. The so-called consensual sex turns into gang rape, in which one of them decides a plastic bag over the girl's head would be a cool idea, and then one of the others has an even more violent (and fatal) idea for a handy kitchen implement that might just as well go up her vagina. The facts of the event are grim. But it's worse that the reader is invite to share her experience. We know what she's thinking at each stage. God alone knows what the men are supposed to be thinking. I found it traumatising, and had to put the book aside for 24 hours before I could go on. Thankfully, nothing else in the book is this horrible.
---------------------------
"The preppie whose cock was in her hand a minute ago now has her by the right wrist, and the one who was fucking her has hold of her left wrist, and now they all join in the fun, the three Richards, two of them keeping her pinned down, the third one making sure the bag is in place over her head and tight around her neck. She is going to die, she knows she is going to die. She knows that in a minute, in thirty seconds, in two seconds, she will run out of breath and ...
'No, bitch.'
And yanks off the bag, and sticks his cock in her mouth again.
This is a game for them, the thinks. She hopes. Only a game. Put the bag on, take the bag off. They have read someplace that depriving a person of oxygen heightens the sexual pleasure. She hopes. But then why are they calling her cunt and bitch and cocksucker and shitface, and why is one of them pushing ... "
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After this scene finally concludes, things lighten up. McBain works in the usual humour, lots of irony, a bit of playfulness with a pigeon, some procedural stuff. We discover that the victim of the parallel plot, an elderly pianist, had a practically pleasurable death by comparison, although her bitchy granddaughter seems to be the only female in the book who actually deserves to die.
I am reading my way chronologically through all the 57th precinct novels. Unless they're having a cumulative effect on me, they get darker as they go on. I wonder about Carella (Hawes too, and Meyer and Kling) who experience inner pain, apparently, when faced with a brutal murder. These detectives are compassionate and human. The cumulative trauma must surely have an awful effect on them (I know, I know it's only a novel).
Still, I wonder about the man who imagines and writes every scene (Evan Hunter / Salvatore Lombino), and whether it doesn't also have an effect on him. Is he intensifying the violent detail because he's become desensitised to it over time? Or is his marketing team to blame? Have they persuaded him that the public taste for violence is growing more salacious, more extreme? Have they told him to spice it up?
I am more interested in the characterisation than the details of a killing.
Yes, I am a wimp.
I am also a McBain admirer though. When he's good, he's very very good. And some of the writing in this volume is excellent.
However, only three stars from me because I found the murder of Yolande, a young woman of (I think) 19, unpleasantly disturbing. A sex worker, she agrees to a four-way event, fuelled by cocaine. The three white guys on a night out are all called Richard, which is amusing until it isn't.
McBain has made it clear from the start that Yolande is going to die. The so-called consensual sex turns into gang rape, in which one of them decides a plastic bag over the girl's head would be a cool idea, and then one of the others has an even more violent (and fatal) idea for a handy kitchen implement that might just as well go up her vagina. The facts of the event are grim. But it's worse that the reader is invite to share her experience. We know what she's thinking at each stage. God alone knows what the men are supposed to be thinking. I found it traumatising, and had to put the book aside for 24 hours before I could go on. Thankfully, nothing else in the book is this horrible.
---------------------------
"The preppie whose cock was in her hand a minute ago now has her by the right wrist, and the one who was fucking her has hold of her left wrist, and now they all join in the fun, the three Richards, two of them keeping her pinned down, the third one making sure the bag is in place over her head and tight around her neck. She is going to die, she knows she is going to die. She knows that in a minute, in thirty seconds, in two seconds, she will run out of breath and ...
'No, bitch.'
And yanks off the bag, and sticks his cock in her mouth again.
This is a game for them, the thinks. She hopes. Only a game. Put the bag on, take the bag off. They have read someplace that depriving a person of oxygen heightens the sexual pleasure. She hopes. But then why are they calling her cunt and bitch and cocksucker and shitface, and why is one of them pushing ... "
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After this scene finally concludes, things lighten up. McBain works in the usual humour, lots of irony, a bit of playfulness with a pigeon, some procedural stuff. We discover that the victim of the parallel plot, an elderly pianist, had a practically pleasurable death by comparison, although her bitchy granddaughter seems to be the only female in the book who actually deserves to die.
I am reading my way chronologically through all the 57th precinct novels. Unless they're having a cumulative effect on me, they get darker as they go on. I wonder about Carella (Hawes too, and Meyer and Kling) who experience inner pain, apparently, when faced with a brutal murder. These detectives are compassionate and human. The cumulative trauma must surely have an awful effect on them (I know, I know it's only a novel).
Still, I wonder about the man who imagines and writes every scene (Evan Hunter / Salvatore Lombino), and whether it doesn't also have an effect on him. Is he intensifying the violent detail because he's become desensitised to it over time? Or is his marketing team to blame? Have they persuaded him that the public taste for violence is growing more salacious, more extreme? Have they told him to spice it up?
I am more interested in the characterisation than the details of a killing.
Yes, I am a wimp.
I am also a McBain admirer though. When he's good, he's very very good. And some of the writing in this volume is excellent.
October 9, 2025
finished 9th october 2025 good read four stars i really liked it kindle library loaner 87th precinct #48 this one has a clever plot as they say in literary circles though maybe the endin could have been tightened up a tad...or not. i suspect a word count limit. something. mcbain often has a comedia vein running through his stories, this one no different several honest to god laugh out loud moments...no freaking politics. did i glance at a review or three? might have done so. one lamented the story is racist. yes. acknowledged...bigots anyway, by the author mcain. does that make a story racist? because it has racist characters? meh. anymore not even the damn fools know the difference between right and wrong, it's all fashionable ideology and forget trying to persuade otherwise. but that got me to thinking...and looking...so i looked for another review or more from this same reviewer and lo and behold! lo and behold! there it is! misogyny...another story was misogynistic!
having taken up space at a major university once upon a time...and coming away from that with a thorough licking and labeling just what misogyny is, it never dawned on me to discover the words antonym. misandry. misandrist. could the same argument be used to proclaim that a story is misandrist...using the missing argument...we never get evidence, proof....from the text...tha such and such story is this, that, the other. a reviewer simply proclaims it is so....and proceeds to suggest mickey spillane or some other hard-boiled detective needs to step in and pistol whip the offending author...in this particular case john d macdonald...one of the travis mcgeee stories...the blue one...deep blue yonder? and again, why bother. proverbs tells us it is pointless to argue with fools. damned if you do. damned if you don't.
need to go see a man about a horse.
having taken up space at a major university once upon a time...and coming away from that with a thorough licking and labeling just what misogyny is, it never dawned on me to discover the words antonym. misandry. misandrist. could the same argument be used to proclaim that a story is misandrist...using the missing argument...we never get evidence, proof....from the text...tha such and such story is this, that, the other. a reviewer simply proclaims it is so....and proceeds to suggest mickey spillane or some other hard-boiled detective needs to step in and pistol whip the offending author...in this particular case john d macdonald...one of the travis mcgeee stories...the blue one...deep blue yonder? and again, why bother. proverbs tells us it is pointless to argue with fools. damned if you do. damned if you don't.
need to go see a man about a horse.
February 25, 2025
Carella and Hawes go through all their paces trying to solve a murder, chase down every line of thought, and every clue until it all falls together into their laps. The criminal element is all represented, but not too much of the precinct gets any attention. Ollie Weeks makes his presence known along a mirrored course in the 88th Precinct.
McBain has delivered so many 87th Precinct books that it just seems routine to blather on about every detail in the course of descriptions, not really about the plot more so to fill pages between minimal plot details.
One major takeaway for me was that nothing is singular nor finite unto itself. We read about a murder, make assumptions about the "why" and the "Who", and follow the clues. McBain takes each string of information to an additional detailed point, for example, one informant helps the case move along, then just minutes after helping the cops with details, he walks around a corner and gets mugged himself, losing his informant money he just received. Meaning the wheel keeps turning, not just for these characters, but for everybody.
McBain seems to have more of these instances than previously.
As for the deaths, not for the faint of heart, to be sure. Murder, prostitution, drugs, chicken fighting, hell it's all in here. Just another day in the 87th.
Recommend for completists. Not a starting point for new McBain fans, but the story holds its own.
Thanks for reading.
McBain has delivered so many 87th Precinct books that it just seems routine to blather on about every detail in the course of descriptions, not really about the plot more so to fill pages between minimal plot details.
One major takeaway for me was that nothing is singular nor finite unto itself. We read about a murder, make assumptions about the "why" and the "Who", and follow the clues. McBain takes each string of information to an additional detailed point, for example, one informant helps the case move along, then just minutes after helping the cops with details, he walks around a corner and gets mugged himself, losing his informant money he just received. Meaning the wheel keeps turning, not just for these characters, but for everybody.
McBain seems to have more of these instances than previously.
As for the deaths, not for the faint of heart, to be sure. Murder, prostitution, drugs, chicken fighting, hell it's all in here. Just another day in the 87th.
Recommend for completists. Not a starting point for new McBain fans, but the story holds its own.
Thanks for reading.
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