'No one ever did it better' NEW YORK TIMES Arthur McKeach and Nick Cistero have been behind most of the loan-sharking, extortion, hijacking, illegal gambling, union corruption and drug-dealing in Greater Boston for almost four decades - and every cop in the Boston Police Department knows it.So what's kept them on the streets for so long? What the cops don't know is that McKeach and Cistero have a sweet deal going with the Boston office of the the bureau looks the other way when they're doing business, and even gives them a heads-up when the local or state cops start poking around - and all McKeach and Cistero have to do is rat out the Italian mob from Boston's North End. It's a deal that has worked for four decades, but now there's a new agent in town, fresh from a desk job in Washington, ready to take over the Organized Crime Unit. Is it the end of an era in the Boston underworld, or are McKeach and Cistero about to find out just how far corruption can go?
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George V. Higgins, who died as At End of Day was going to press, reinvented the language of the crime novel with his ability to breathe life into the dialogue of the small-time hoodlum. At the end of all of Higgins's fictional days--from his first novel, The Friends of Eddie Coyle, to this practically posthumous work--lie 1,001 nights in which FBI agents and crime bosses become consonant-dropping, vowel-skewing, grammar-ignoring Scheherazades whose stories are recounted with the deadly accurate tone that became the author's trademark.
At End of Day tells the story of the downfall of Boston mobster Arthur McKeach; more precisely, it tells the story of those who tell the story of McKeach's undoing. In Higgins's world--though he could write a mean murder scene--crime is less an immediate event than a moment to which his characters return to weave complicated, often conflicting narratives. At the novel's center lies a problematic alliance between McKeach and his top henchman, Nick Cistaro, and FBI agents Darren Stoat and Jack Farrier: the mobsters provide information to the FBI about their Mafia rivals in return for protection. To say that the partnership serves to humanize both sides, or to claim that the yoke of creative necessity harnesses men who are ironically similar, is to pander to the obvious. Far better to relax into the intoxicating rhythms of the characters' language, as when McKeach attempts to educate a horrified Stoat in the underworld code of behavior:
His expression was calm, his tone the patient monotone, varied by occasional emphasis, that an earnest instructor would use addressing interested novices. 'But then the big guys get involved in private fights, one of them floats in onna tide? Reason don't matter--if he's big then his guys're involved, they don't have no choice. It's then a matter of honor. And besides, if the guys who aren't dead, if they expect to keep what they've got, well then, they'd better get involved too. Show some respect for their guy who is dead, and retaliate, right? Because otherwise the guys who did him'll come around and do them, take over his whole territory. So--never mind why he is dead, he is dead--revenge is their duty to him, and themselves, to show they're still men.'
McKeach lives, and others die, by this code; his unwavering control is the axis around which At End of Day revolves. Higgins fans both old and new will find themselves captivated by McKeach's authority and Higgins's hypnotic prose. --Kelly Flynn
George V. Higgins is the author of more than twenty novels, most notably The Friends of Eddie Coyle. At End of Day is his last novel completed just prior to his death in 1999.
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