From Publishers Weekly
Aspiring writer Dylan Klein is tending bar in a small town not far from New York City on a cold winter's night when an overly made up middle-aged woman comes in asking for Johnny Blue. There is no Johnny Blue, only a Johnny MacClough, a former cop who owns the bar. The woman departs. Klein finds a diamond necklace on the floor and traces high-heel marks in the snow to the woman's still-warm corpse, its mouth stuffed with a yellow bird. Coleman ( Life Goes Sleeping ) uses up his store of literary pretensions and opaque stylistic techniques at the start, but patient readers are rewarded with a somber and gripping crime story: Klein tracks down the dead woman's identity and her relationship with the tight-lipped MacClough; he unearths a few more stiffs, and he gets sordid and horizontal with a boozed-up woman journalist whose career is on its way down despite her fancy credentials. The graphic conclusion, as mob thugs surface with guns blazing, features the brief, memorable appearance of a gardening implement. A grim start and a grim finish mark this uneven but often satisfying story.
Copyright 1993 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
The meaning of Coleman's title, more symbolic and esoteric that you might expect, resides within a Forties-style text. Rough-hewn private eye Dylan Klein receives an enigmatic message for ex-cop John MacClough from a distraught woman but shortly thereafter finds the woman's freshly dead body--complete with canary in mouth. After confronting an evasive MacClough, Klein searches for clues among unscrupulous reporters, ruthless gangsters, and rapacious lawyers. Heartlessly succinct and often overstated prose jeopardize the plot. This is a marginal purchase.
Copyright 1993 Reed Business Information, Inc.