The Bum's Rush

Leo Waterman and his eccentric team of operatives venture into the baffling world of the Seattle rock music scene as they try to untangle the mystery surrounding the death of a rock star and the conflicting claims of two unlikely heirs to his fortune. By the author of Who in Hell Is Wanda Fuca.

A hunt through Seattle's darkest neighborhoods for Ralph Batista, one of the Irregulars who helps shamus Leo Waterman solve cases and put away booze, leads not only to sozzled Ralph, but to an unexpectedly helpful ally: savvy streetperson Selena Dunlap, who tells Leo where Ralph is likely to be staying, stands up to a police grilling when the Irregulars' rescue mission turns irregular, and casually mentions that she's the mother of Lukkas Terry, the rocker who'd been on top of the world until the cops found him with a needle sticking out of his arm. It's something for Leo to mull over while he gets on with his newest paying job: finding Karen Mendolson, the enterprising librarian who skedaddled with her underwear, her desktop computer, and $193,000 of the public library's money. Since the two cases don't come together till the last few pages, fans of Leo's first two outings (Cast in Stone, 1996, etc.), like the detective himself, will have to make do with shuttling back and forth between a computer- guided search for the larcenous librarian (not much to chew on here, though habitu‚s of the DorothyL conference site will crack a smile) and poking around among the supernova heirs of the Terry estate trying to raise some hackles without getting Selena Dunlap killed. Both plots go flat in the end, but Ford's way with dialogue and characters--he's well on his way to becoming the Raymond Chandler of Seattle--may keep you from noticing. (Author tour) -- Copyright ©1997, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.

Now in its third installment, Ford's Leo Waterman novels have leapfrogged the competition among Seattle detective series. This time out, Leo has plenty on his plate: one of the "boys," the homeless cronies he often uses for legwork, has gone missing; he's hired to find a librarian who has scammed the city's automated acquisitions system out of 200 grand; and he's on the trail of a record producer who may have arranged the overdose of a grunge rock star. The various plots and their joint resolution come together seamlessly--aided by some nifty online sleuthing--but what really makes this series shine is the ensemble interplay between Leo and his crew of homeless assistants. Like the "rude mechanicals" in one of Shakespeare's dark comedies, Waterman's supporting cast not only adds humor to the proceedings but also offers ironic commentary on the lead characters and their mainstream world, undercutting pretentiousness while displaying their own character flaws with a believable mixture of panache and melancholy. A fine series that keeps getting better. Bill Ott