Sure it's a hard-boiled detective story, which is something I love, but I couldn't help thinking about how it just did not stand up to what transpires today. Okay, I know it's not fair, it was written in 1971 and things were different.
I may also have suffered by the fact that this is the 62nd volume in the series so there are many relationships in the book that seem so very convenient that they took me out of the story.
Here's the premise: an British scientist, suicidally depressed, is convinced to smuggle plutonium into the US on board the RMS Queen Mary. Mike Shayne boards the ship in Bermuda and immediately becomes entangled in the conspiracy.
The moment the story had Shayne doing some pretty heroic automobile maintenance in the hold of the ship, I was out. There is no way one man could do what he did, and talk about a dangerous job to boot!
Once he is on his home turf of Miami the level of suspension of disbelief I needed was too much. It started with his personal car, which had a car phone - in 1971! I had to Google when car phones first made it to market. Yup, that fit reality, but it must have been incredibly expensive. This Mike Shayne guy must be very successful and have tons of money.
This was further proven out when his car is shown to have a booby trap right out of James Bond.
It goes on - his reputation is so good that the local police allow him to investigate the conspiracy. When the FBI become involved the local cops convince the feds to let Shayne continue.
The sex was unbelievable, the relationships and deals Shayne creates out of nothing were also impossible to buy.
In short, this book is terrible because it was written straight. Today, with only a little bit of rewriting, it would make a terrific comedy.
Funny how nearly 50 years can change a story.
 |
| Brett Halliday |
