Customer Reviews

Ax (87th Precinct Mystery)

5 star:		(1)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

This is one of the shortest --- and one of the weaker --- books in the 87th Precinct series, which McBain has been writing since 1956 and is approaching 50 volumes. Generally McBain succeeds in creating a complex and intriguing mystery with minimal elements; but here he seems a little short of ideas. However, fans of the series will enjoy it; it's fast paced and engrossing, and by now most of us are so enamored of Hawes and Carella that we're not too particular about the details. Those who haven't tried McBain before should probably pick up "The Hecker", "The Con Man", or "Killer's Payoff" for a taste of the early 87th Precinct.

This is one of the great books of the 87th. McBain is at his gritty best describing the reprucussions of a brutal ax murder. The finale is shocking and disheartening. Also an interesting one to read because McBain drops refrences to this one in several of his other books.

I am trying to read these in order so this is the 18th one I have read. I think I gave all the others a five. A body is found with an axe sticking out of the mans head. Who would kill an 86 year old man? Steve Carella and Cotton Hawes are the main ones working on this case. They do the usual of asking questions but turn up nothing. Could it have been the man's son, who has not been out of their house in years, the man's wife, who is crazy as a loon? How about Allie the Shark Spedino, who is brought in for questioning? Then a cop is killed, that makes a big difference in the case. Cotton and Carella cannot turn up anything to solve the mystery, then, and this is why I gave it a four, the murderer is handed to them on a platter. I like the 87th Precinct series very much and will continue to read them, however, wish this could have been solved by them and not handed to them. A quick read, will hold your attention, and if you are into McBain you will like it enough to read it.

In this 1964 addition to the series, an eighty-seven years old janitor is found murdered in the basement of his apartment building. He has an ax stuck in his head, and cuts on his hands and neck. When Carella and Hawes start to look into his background, they find that he owns a mock-Tudor house in an upscale neighborhood. Twenty-five years earlier, his son had been sent to a private school, and his wife to a private sanitarium.

How did he afford the above, all on a janitors salary. Something doesn't quite add up. Good outing.

Fans read McBain for the thrill of the procedural and the interaction of the boys from the 87th. Here, we get the procedural details and the killer's identity is worthy of Christie, but no fun with Meyer, Byrnes, Brown et al. Even homicide bureau staples Monaghan and Monroe are on vacation. Instead of the usual mix of crimes, we get a straight murder mystery involving only Steve Carella and Cotton Hawes with only one line given to Meyer in the whole book. The rest of the boys are forgotten. The killer is found when Carella is called to the scene and when he sees an axe involved in the new assault realizes "Hey! This is the killer!" A bit of a letdown from McBain.

Shouldn't that have an 'e'?
I remember there was a craze for Ed McBain 87th Precinct paperbacks at my boarding school. I don't know who brought the first one in, maybe from the school library, but soon more and more turned up and were passed around. They became part of the furniture. Just as well, it was a very austere place and there wasn't much furniture. The murder and mayhem of the 87th made a nice change from the cold showers, buggery and beatings we had become accustomed to. We used to discuss the plots now and again. Carella and his wife. Was she deaf? After a term with our housemaster, we began to envy her condition. Also also Meyer Meyer. We liked all the jargon too, such as 'molestation one'. We had by that time discovered all about the term. After a while we found ourselves talking in rather broad Brooklyn accents while dunking biscuits into our teas. We empaphised with the dire incarceration suffered by the criminals. The detectives would not always get their man but unfortunately we didn't have similar luck with the school staff. We were in an isolated place on the map so it was nice to escape to some mythical American city of steaming pavements and cigarette ends. When the lights were turned out in the dorm we could almost imagine ourselves hearing the distant screech of a passing police car siren. Sometimes we did hear it but it was only ever a room mate desperately crying out in his sleep for his mummy. But we lived in hope. This was the first Ed McBain book I ever picked up there and had a suitably gruesome opening. Soon I was hooked, and the cult was born. From what I can remember, this was a short, concisely written and easy to read book, easy to fit in between brutal excursions down the playing fields and prep. Sundays there was little to do except hang around the dorm or form room, and so God's day became official 'Ed' day. Can't remember who did the axe murder at the end of the book. Probably our old housemaster.