From Publishers Weekly
With two fine crime works in the tales of black operative Lew Griffin (Moth and The Long-Legged Fly), Sallis here delivers another: a prequel and a grim, utterly absorbing novel set in 1960s New Orleans. Griffin, a boozer, freelance investigator and occasional saint to the poor, reads a lot, hangs out with his tender lover, a whore named LaVerne, and views the radical black movement with an anesthetized detachment. He gets a crash course in radical anger when he meets a prominent white woman journalist, then watches as she is gunned down, the latest victim of a black shooter, a pro gunman bound for either hell or glory. He becomes a pal to a white cop whose brother is another of the recently slain. Although most of Lew's waking hours are spent close to drunk and absorbed in books that help him reflect upon the demons that dog him, he nevertheless reaches a resolution that seems a perfect tying up of loose circumstances. Sallis's New Orleans sparkles gaudily even in the passionate economy of his prose, marked by such arresting images as that of 12-string blues shot through with the amber from the dregs of a shot glass.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Library Journal
Black tough guy/narrator Lewis Griffin inhabits the often murky streets of New Orleans in a not-too-distant past-the early 1960s. Griffin strikes back after an admired reporter acquaintance of his is killed right in front of him by a rooftop sniper. With the help of a white policeman, the "support" of his working-girl lady friend, and news gathered from various dives, Lewis gets dangerously close to the shooter. Not a historical mystery in the strictest sense, perhaps, yet a vivid, focused portrayal of crime and the underlying racial tensions that can accompany it.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.