A friend of mine recently read this 87th Precinct book, and because he knows how much I love Ed McBain he was asking me about it, and for the life of me I couldn't remember if I'd read it or not, it didn't sound at all familiar. I don't own it, and I couldn't find any record of having checked it out from the library (what, you don't keep all your library receipts so you know what you checked out back in in June of 1995? I can't be the only one who does that). But I didn't keep great records for a few years, so I might have borrowed it and don't have the receipt. Or maybe I never read it, it certainly didn't sound familiar. It was a good story: a popular TV personality drops dead while on the air. He was poisoned, a very specific, fast acting poison he would have had to ingest within just a few minutes of dying, only he was on camera and no one remembers him taking anything in that time frame. It's actually a cheerful thought that there are Ed McBain's out there that I haven't read yet, I hate it when a favorite author dies and I know I won't ever get to read anything new.
No comments:
Post a Comment