The new Miles Jacoby mystery finds Miles simultaneously trying to clear a comic of a murder rap and locate a witness who can get a friend of his out of prison.
Book Description
Editorial Reviews
From Publishers Weekly
In this hip but ho-hum tale, Randisi's third Miles Jacoby mystery (Separate Cases; Hard Look), the Manhattan PI juggles two cases. One has him searching for a missing pal who supposedly can alibi a murder suspect; the other sends him hunting for a stand-up comic's missing jokes, apparently stolen out of a computer. Jacoby also runs his bar, Packy's, and considers a proposed partnership with Gotham's star investigator, Walker Blue. While chasing clues from the Russian Tea Room to the Stage Deli, Jacoby drops a slew of names-major players, minor players, walk-on cops, old dead friends (at least 45, not counting celebrities)-that slow the narrative to a crawl, in spite of Randisi's short, snappy chapters. Murders, a vicious beating and a quick trip to Vegas don't enliven the pages much. Brooklyn-born Randisi, who lives in St. Louis, sounds like he's missing his native soil.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Booklist
Stan Waldrop didn't exactly die laughing . . . his jokes weren't so bad that he "died" onstage, either. But shortly after he hired New York City private eye Miles Jacoby to help recover his stolen joke file, he suffered a nonmetaphoric death via a blow to the head. Jacoby figures he ought to work off his advance money, so he pokes around, annoys the cops, and manages to get beat up a couple times himself. Meanwhile, Miles' best friend has disappeared, and Miles takes it upon himself to find him before the bad guys do. Floating around the periphery is the issue of Miles' independence. Aging but legendary private eye Walker Blue has offered Miles a partnership in his agency, prompting some serious soul-searching. Randisi is the founder of the Private Eye Writers of America, and it's very apparent he understands the genre. Writing a private-eye novel is like singing an old blues standard: it's a balancing act in which you must simultaneously pay homage to the past masters and make the song your own. Chandler and Hammett would approve of the way Randisi bends his notes. Wes Lukowsky
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