This one is Crais's New York novel, though the title refers
two Chelam, Connecticutt, where Elvis winds up.
Elvis is hired this time to find the ex-wife of Peter Alan
Nelsen, "the King of Adventure." Nelsen is basically a big
14-year-old with a fat bank account and every studio in
Hollywood kissing his ass to keep his childhood going on
forever and ever. Whatever Peter Alan Nelsen wants, Peter
Alan Nelsen gets, because, after all, he's Peter Alan Nelsen,
#3 behind Speilberg and Lucas among directors. (Obviously,
this is before the STAR WARS prequels.) Elvis doesn't cotton
to Peter (initials PAN. Hmm...), which only makes Nelsen
trust him more. He wants Elvis to find the ex-wife and son he
abandoned when he was just Pete Nelsen, film school
wash-out.
Elvis finds her, living under the name Karen Lloyd in Chelam,
CT, a town so bucolic it's probably subsidized by postcard
photos. It's your typical small town on the fringes of a
major urban center, the urban center being New York City.
Karen's made a new life for herself and her son. She's a bank
vice president, a former PTA chair, and a real estate agent.
He watches Karen for a couple of days and discovers she has a
problem. The mob, it turns out, helped her turn things around
from being the struggling, broke actress from LA. So when
Elvis confronts her, he offers to find her a way out before
letting Peter Alan Nelsen know where she lives.
He confronts Charlie DeLuca, a mob underboss so psychotic he
makes John Gotti look like Mister Rogers. DeLuca is using
Karen to launder money. And when they go over DeLuca's
deposits, it turns out he's doing it behind his father's
back. Charlie's fallen in with the Jamaicans (the heavies in
another novel, DEEP SHAKER, which I'll review next) in a
scheme to rob the other mob families. In comes Joe Pike, who
manages to do what Pike does best. Elvis finds a way to get
Karen off the hook when who should a appear to screw things
up but...
Peter Alan Nelsen.
And because he's Peter Alan Nelsen, he and his entourage butt
in like the proverbial bull in a China shop. Bullet-laiden
hilarity ensues, and of course, Elvis and Joe have to clean
up the mess.
It's a Cole novel, and being pre-LA REQUIEM, I can sort of
see how it's going to end. Fortunately, Crais makes sure the
story is shaken and stirred every few chapters so you have to
work to that end. And there are consequences for the
inevitable shoot out with the bad guys, smoothed over by
Rollie George, a former cop turned Mafia thriller writer.
Rollie's got connections with the cops. And he likes Elvis
and Joe. Why? A cop named Joe Pike killed the men who shot
Rollie and killed his wife. I'd have liked to have seen more
of Rollie. He's worth his own book or two. Great supporting
character.
Peter Alan Nelsen is very well-done. An overgrown adolescent,
he blunders into Cole's violent world, takes a bullet, and
realizes maybe it's time he grew up. I especially like his
fondness for Cole due to Elvis' refusal to kiss his ass.
Sycophants, let's face it, probably annoy the people they
suck up to worse than the rest of us. Elvis was a refreshing
change
The one thing that rubbed me the wrong way was Manhattan.
Reading a lot of Manhattan novels and knowing a lot of New
Yorkers and, especially, having been to New York, I found
Elvis and Joe's ease in driving around the city less than
believeable. Scudder always rented a car to leave the city,
and I'm currently reading Jason Starr's TWISTED CITY. All
subways and cabs. Cars, even though there are too many of
them on the streets there, don't ring right for me in
Manhattan. I can't imagine a tourist (having been one there)
rolling up to a building or - entering the realm of urban
legend - finding a parking garage quickly there. OTOH, Crais
is a creature of LA (and the other La as well, being
Lousianna.) I suppose it's nearly impossible for someone in
Los Angeles to imagine not having a car or getting to where
you want to go quickly.
Over all, though, a solid offering. Crais plays with the
cliches a little. Cole and Pike are observers in a drama not
of their making. Cole cracks wise to move things along. Pike
never takes off the sunglasses. They just push the buttons
and make things happen.
Respectfully submitted,
Jim Winter
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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