Only the Wicked is the fourth book about Ivan Monk, and it's been out of print for a while. Luckily we have Stark House around to bring books like this back into print. This is the 5th Black Gat book, and it's a dandy private-eye novel.
The plot is set in motion when Old Man Sears dies in the Abbyssinia Barber Shop & Shine Parlor. Nobody knew much about him, and when it comes out that he played in the Negro Baseball Leagues alongside one of Monk's cousins, Monk is curious. Monk's family has been on the outs with the cousin, Kennesaw Riles, for years because of his testimony against a noted activist. The activist wound up in prison. Riles turns up dead next, and Monk knows something strange is going on. He sets out to find out the answers, travelling to Mississippi and Tennessee in the process. He finds out, as you might suspect, that the south hasn't changed as much as people might like to think.
Also figuring into the plot is a lost recording by Delta bluesman Charlie Patton. The song, "Killin' Blues," seems to have been important to Riles. Monk locates the man Riles testified against, Damon Creel, and discovers what we already know -- the past is never dead.
Ivan Monk is a great character, very much a part of his community, a believer helping people and doing what he can for the neighborhood. Phillips tells the story in a straightforward and affecting style, moving it along with occasional humor, violence, and social commentary. It's a fine mixture, and it's good to have this book available again.
4 comments:
I've read several Monk short stories but I don't think I've read any of the novels.
Great review. I am especially intrigued by the regional setting for what seems to be a lot of hard-boiled fun. So, even though I have my doubts about easily finding this one either in the library or the used bookstore, I am poised to begin the search. All the best from R.T. at http://thesimpleartofmurder.blogspot.com/
Curse you, Bill Crider! As if I didn't have enough stuff to read...
Curse you, Don Coffin, posting that comment before my fumbling fingers could.
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