"“Well,” I said, sitting next to Hammett. “What now?” “You’re the boss,” he said with a dry smile. “Okay,” I answered. “We get out of this room, find the telephone, call for help, grab the MacArthur papers and get the hell out of here. How do you like it?” “Fine,” said Hammett. “But how?” “You asked me what we’re going to do, not how. I don’t know how.”"
If any of you readers are fans of Kaminsky’s Toby Peters series. This is the best one that I have read.
General Douglas McArthur needs Toby Peters. "“When this war is over,” he said, “and the rising sun has set, this country will have to turn its attention to the next threat to the people of not only the United States, but the entire free world. Do you know what that threat is, Mr. Peters?” I considered several possibilities—dehydrated coffee, near beer, French and German opera—but I kept my mouth shut, confident that the General had the answer or he wouldn’t have asked the question. “Communism,” he said softly, almost resignedly; then his voice rose in determination. “If it weren’t for the Axis, we would be fighting Communists in the plains of Asia and the vineyards of Europe. I am not a fanatic, Mr. Peters. I am a pragmatist. This country will require a leader who is not afraid to face a further conflict, a leader whose hands are not bound”—and with this he held out his hands as if they were cuffed together—“by an executive branch more interested in its political perpetuation than in the need to make difficult and unpopular decisions to safeguard the shores of our country."
Does Peters need McArthur?
"I got up and handed the packet back to Castle. “Forget it,” I said. “I’d like to save the universe, or at least lower California. I really would, but it’ll have to be my way. I’ve had the feeling since I got into that spiffy Packard with you and Tonto that I was being treated like a little boy who’s supposed to be quiet in front of the adults and do what he’s told. Well, Major, it doesn’t work that way. Not for me. I’m not in your army and I couldn’t take the orders when I was a cop or when I was working security for Warner Brothers. I didn’t warm to the uniforms and I didn’t enjoy feeling like if I went down there’d be another like me to pick up the flag.”"
Having Dash Hammett in the plot makes for some interesting dialogue.
"“So what is it? You want me to play Nora to your Nick?” “I considered spending a few days with my wife and daughters,” he said, “but it’s been too long and … if I go back to the hotel I’m likely to start smoking and remembering what a drink or two can do to get you through elastic hours. I don’t write anymore, not real stuff. If I can keep busy for two or three days and get back to New York sober and in reasonable shape, I can talk them into letting me enlist. The plain truth is that the U.S. Army in the middle of its worst war may be the only thing that can save my life. There’s an irony there that doesn’t escape me.” I looked his way. He looked out the window. “Forget it. It was a bad idea,” he finally said. “A whim. I don’t usually go for them.” “Wait a minute,” I came back, assuming he was talking about giving me a hand and not about joining the army. “I could use some help on a case. Just follow-up and tracing.” “That’s how I made my living,” he said. “
The characters are all very idiosyncratic and Toby’s encounters with them are essential to advancing the plot. The war in the South Pacific is at its height and there are plenty of threads to pull together.
"“You know what the trouble with this world is?” “Nazis and Japs,” I said. “Loose ends,” Pintacki said, his hand clenching. “No discipline. Not like the movies. Life can learn so much from the movies if life would only watch. Sometimes I think God gave us the movies like a secret message, a message waiting for us to read it and understand.”"
If you are a fan of this series, you know the fraught relationship between Toby and his brother, Phil, who is a homicide detective in the Los Angeles Police Department.
"“Maybe I need a lawyer,” I said. “Maybe you need a new goddam brain,” Phil went on, his voice still even but showing a slight quiver that only a brother would recognize. “I’ve got four connected murders and you know what connects them? You. You connect them, Toby. You are—and not for the first time, as any assistant district attorney will see when he looks into your hippo-choking file—a murder suspect. We’re talking possible indictment. We’re talking loss of license.”…“Off the record, Phil,” I said. “It has to be off the record.” “No,” he said. “Then I can’t tell you.” I said, hands at my side ready to protect myself from what would probably be my brother’s next move. “Son of a bitch,” he hissed, fists clenched. “I can’t, Phil,” I said. “I’ve got an office smaller than a broom closet, a furnished room in a seedy boarding house, no wife, no family, no money, no property. All I’ve got is my word. If I give that up, I’ve got nothing left. I can’t tell you, Phil.”"
Aside from knowing that Toby will, somehow, make it through (and the Allies will win the war), Kaminsky keeps things moving at a terrific pace and the ending seems sufficiently plausible. A satisfying page-turner.