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A review by deepwinterodd
The Drowning Pool by Ross MacDonald
5.0
#39: The Drowning Pool by Ross MacDonald:
Synopsis: Lew Archer's hired by the middle generation of a really dysfunctional family, two generations of which are killed. Archer's sucked in and, for once, not framed, but he does accidentally kidnap someone and get them killed before getting kidnapped himself and winding up in the middle of a bad marriage. And in Nevada.
(It's creeeeeeeeepy. Now with bonus mental institution!")
Archer is dragged into one of those small inbred Central Californian town that freaks me out like a motherfucker, and as soon as he gets the lay of the land, there's a body in the pool. Get it? The Drowning Pool? Enh? Symbolism. Woof!
Archer investigates without a client, tracking the small-town cops' suspect to L.A. and Nevada and walking them right into an ambush. After that goes so well, Archer follows the femme fatale out to the coast and gets mixed up with her husband, who, disappointingly, has much less to do with things than previously suspected.
A gorgeous, sultry California noir that had so many twists and turns I nearly lost track. Archer's a great gumshoe, granite and strong and noble, and he's just beset with crazy ladies. Seriously. Every time he turns around another woman off her meds falls from the sky and lands on him, ready to party. Why doesn't that ever happen to me?
She closed her eyes. From the places where it was pinned to the durable bone, the flesh of her face fell in thin slack folds. The folds made dark lines slanting downward from the corners of her closed eyes, the wings of her nose, the edges of her jaw, deep charcoal shadows cartooning dissolution.
I said goodnight and left her.
Synopsis: Lew Archer's hired by the middle generation of a really dysfunctional family, two generations of which are killed. Archer's sucked in and, for once, not framed, but he does accidentally kidnap someone and get them killed before getting kidnapped himself and winding up in the middle of a bad marriage. And in Nevada.
(It's creeeeeeeeepy. Now with bonus mental institution!")
Archer is dragged into one of those small inbred Central Californian town that freaks me out like a motherfucker, and as soon as he gets the lay of the land, there's a body in the pool. Get it? The Drowning Pool? Enh? Symbolism. Woof!
Archer investigates without a client, tracking the small-town cops' suspect to L.A. and Nevada and walking them right into an ambush. After that goes so well, Archer follows the femme fatale out to the coast and gets mixed up with her husband, who, disappointingly, has much less to do with things than previously suspected.
A gorgeous, sultry California noir that had so many twists and turns I nearly lost track. Archer's a great gumshoe, granite and strong and noble, and he's just beset with crazy ladies. Seriously. Every time he turns around another woman off her meds falls from the sky and lands on him, ready to party. Why doesn't that ever happen to me?