David Rachels

Redheads Die Quickly and Other Stories is a collection of 25 of Brewer’s short stories that were originally published in magazines throughout the fifties and sixties. Redheads Die Quickly is the title short from that collection and is presented here by itself.

The story is about a robber who, with a group of other criminals, netted an $800,000 payday, but Caffery, who gave State’s evidence with regard to his accomplices and got out of custody in short measure, did not know where the loot was kept. It had been “a caper that had frayed the last of his nerves, ruined what was left of his digestion, weakened his heart, and helped bring back the old migraine of his youthful mob days.” But $800,000 “was a lot of moo” and Caffery aimed to find where Ritchie had hid it, hopefully before Ritchie croaked in prison where he was serving out a life sentence. Finding that loot was an obsession and Caffery knew, if he did not find it, he was done.

Caffery’s solution to finding the loot that Ritchie certainly wasn’t going to turn over to him was to get it out of Ritchie’s girl, Helen, who was still loyal to Ritchie. She lounged around “on the couch in nothing- much of a black whatsit, looking lovely as ever in every respect” except that, after the beatings Caffery had given her, she had nothing left in her eyes and a permanent blank expression on her face. “Her eyes had that glazed look, and when she spoke” she sounded like “a punch-drunk fighter.” She simply “stared at the mute TV set with the pitiful air of a patient hound” and ran her hands through her “long red hair.” “Helen didn’t even know her own name anymore. It never mattered what was on television” either.

Short as this story is, this is powerful stuff. You have the criminal element present. You also have despair and hopelessness and desperation. This could certainly have been made into a full-length novel. Good stuff, indeed!… (mere)

The story is about a conman and drifter, Jones, who has happened on two wealthy young ladies who are vacationing. Of the two women, Liz caught Jone's eye. She "waggled down to the beach from the cabana" and every time the narrator "looked at that shape, [his] throat went hoarse." She not only "waggles" but "bounces" over to the edge of the blanket where he was "flaked out." Jones found it "blinding. "Not the Florida sunlight. Not reflections from the Gulf of Mexico. Just that shape, that sweet face, that long ash-blond hair, those eyes, those lips, Jesus." When she wriggles against him, he feels himself "sinking straight through the sand." This one, he explains, "was money" and he didn't have a pot to piss in, himself. When she asks what he does for a living, Jones explains that he sponges off pretty women and she tells him that this is what she thought he did. She tells him that he is "no damned good," but she is in love with him. Things get a little more interesting story-wise when Liz shows Jones a box of money and tells him that it's all her sister, Prissy's money and she is sick of following around her rich sister like a puppy dog and could Jones just do her a little favor. Hmmm. Wonder what that favor could be. Brewer tells a good story, even a short one. He also does a great job of capturing the flavor of the timelessness of the Florida beach and the heavy passion and emotions that are manipulating Jones. Good stuff.… (mere)

1950's Pulp

Sin Pit, originally titled Blood Lust (by the author not the publisher) is a 1954 pulp paperback that was considered a rare find. It has now been re-issued as an e-book. Meskil only published one novel in his lifetime and this was it. Meskil has a smooth, easy writing style that makes this short novel a fairly quick read. There are a lot of classic pulp motifs present here from the good cop twisted by an irresistible woman, the dreadful power of desire, the poor country girl turning tricks, the innocent man on the run, the frame-ups, the tarnished badge. What sets this one apart is the sadomasochism, the whip marks on the murdered girl, the rubber hoses regularly employed in police interrogations, the drinking till the bars closed and the lead character is so toasted he's not even sure of what he's doing. When you read these pulp novels, you realize that there was another world in the fifties lurking beyond the sock hops and the jukeboxes and there were mean, nasty corners. Bottom line: a fairly easy read filled with some pretty good lines and twisted themes.… (mere)