Never Cross a Vampire

 Never Cross a Vampire (1980) by Stuart Kaminsky

Stuart Kaminsky's Toby Peters has a double-feature in store for him in his fifth recorded case. First up is Dracula himself, Bela Lugosi. Someone has been sending America's favorite vampire threatening messages and nasty little packages. Lugosi hires the Hollywood private eye to look into the case. Peters meets a whole group of vampire-wannabes who seem to dote on Hollywood's Count, but does one of them think they can replace Lugosi as the king of vampires? Before Peters can get very far into the suspects and motives behind the poison pen, he's asked to take on a second case. This time it's the murder of an agent and the prime suspect is William Faulkner, a southern author who has decided to try his hand at screenwriting.

The case looks pretty black against Faulkner. Not only did the dying man identify him as the culprit, but the man's wife also claimed to have been present and fingered the author as well. The curious thing is...when Peters interviews her and shows her a picture from his wallet (asking her, "Is this the man?"), she identifies the man as Faulkner. But it's not--it's Harry James [Peters doesn't say so, but I'm guessing this is a reference to the musician/band leader]. So something is definitely fishy. And then the two cases seem to intertwine and Peters has to figure out if they really are related. And he better do it before the killer decides to add Peters to the body count.

The Kaminsky novels are fun and high in nostalgia for those of us who grew up with the old black and white movies playing every Saturday and Sunday afternoon (when there wasn't a bazillion channels/streaming services/what-have-you). He's got old Hollywood down to a T (or should that be down to an H?). It's also good for those who like their private eyes more soft- than hard-boiled. I mentioned in my last review that Peters doesn't really fit the 1930s/40s tough guy detective bill--he gets beat up (quite often by his own brother, police Lieutenant Phil Pevsner), shot at, and framed for murders more often than most private eyes do in an entire series. And--as with his adventure with Errol Flynn, it's the Hollywood star who saves his bacon when the bad guy is ready to write "The End" on Peters' life story. Lugosi, in full Dracula kit, scares the bejeebers out of the culprit and Peters lives to face another day.

I wasn't quite sure how I liked the meshing of the two stories, but Kaminsky did manage to bring it off in a fairly satisfactory way. I spotted what was going on with Faulkner, though I didn't quite get the culprit right. ★★★ and 1/2 stars for a fun romp.

First line: A pudgy vampire with a soiled black cape sat on a coffin across from me sipping a bottle of Hires Root Beer through a soggy straw.

Last line: I tucked the envelope back in my jacket, crawled into the dental chair, adjusted my back so I wouldn't lie on the sore spot, and fell asleep to the lullaby of traffic, battles, and dead dreams that floated up from Hoover Street, penetrated the walls, and surrounded me with a familiar blanket.
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Deaths = 4 (three shot; one fell from height)