AHMM, May 2007 Read online

  "Of course,” he said. “Good night, my dear.” Polijn continued with what the big fat rat had said to the cat.

  He did not speak again, and after four more verses, his face ceased to move. Polijn felt her contract was to sing the whole song and brought it right down to what the moldy old cheese told the wind across the lake and polished this off with another verse on the flute. Then she rose, knees stiff, and looked down at the old cave wizard.

  His eyes sprang open, and his lips moved as if to form words. But there was no breath to carry them. He smiled at her, and she knew he was gone.

  Polijn looked along the length of the body in the bed, then turned away. She took her cup, refilled it from the pitcher, and moved toward the door. The piles of bounty were casting shadows into the outer room; this reminded her that she was to take something.

  It didn't bother her; Wamac obviously wouldn't mind, and she had earned her fee, she thought. She considered the piles. The sage sausage looked good, as did the muffins, but that might be a little shortsighted. There was a little horse next to one pile of silver, but she supposed it was a sign that this pile was for Bergous, as the kettle marked the pile for the innkeeper's wife. They knew him better than she did, of course.

  She looked out at the river and the setting sun. What could she take to remember him by?

  There was only one thing, finally. Raising her chin, she stepped to the door and lifted the little silver key from its nail. Marching outside, she shut the door with a louder slam than she'd intended and turned the key in the lock.

  She tucked the key into her belt, not looking back as she heard the barely perceptible sound of owls settling and a creak as of something reaching from under the threshold. Her face was turned toward the village, and she nodded once, with some decision.

  Let them work for it, she thought, and moved off downriver.

  Copyright © 2007 Dan Crawford

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  REEL CRIME by STEVE HOCKENSMITH

  All mystery readers daydream about the movie version of their favorite series. What would Sue Grafton's Kinsey Millhone look like on the big screen? Who would be the perfect actress to bring Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum to life? When will Hollywood get around to immortalizing Lee Child's Jack Reacher on celluloid? And who'll be the first actor to get a crack at Michael Connelly's Hieronymus “Harry” Bosch?

  Actually, that last question was answered months ago with a film adaptation of Connelly's newest novel, Echo Park. But don't feel too badly if you're a Connelly fan who somehow missed it. The Bosch movie didn't hit your local cineplex, nor did it air on network TV.

  Instead, the film—all ten minutes of it—debuted on the Web site YouTube (www.youtube.com). And you can still watch it there for free.

  * * * *

  * * * *

  That's because the short film was never intended to lure anyone into a theater seat. It was conceived as a Web-based marketing tool, probably the most ambitious of its kind to date—the Birth of a Nation of online book promotions.

  Produced on a budget of about $10,000 (from Connelly's own pocket), the Echo Park movie was directed by another crime novelist: Terrill Lee Lankford (Earthquake Weather, Blonde Lightning). According to Lankford, the popularity of YouTube (which allows users to post and view free videos) was what convinced Connelly to finance his own short film.

  "We may not have even shot that clip if not for the existence of YouTube,” Lankford says. “It's a great way to make material available to the public. Of course, it has its limitations. The picture quality suffers because the film has to be [a certain file size and length]. But those are minor concerns compared to the fact that more than 15,000 people have [downloaded the mini-movie] into their homes."

  * * * *

  Michael Connelly on location for the Echo Park shoot. Photo by Terrill Lee Lankford.

  * * * *

  Author/budding filmmaker Terrill Lee Lankford. Photo by Eileen Wade.

  * * * *

  A veteran of more than two decades in the Hollywood trenches, Lankford knows a thing or two about working around limitations and getting the job done cheap and fast. (His earliest screenwriting credits include ‘80s-era B flicks with titles such as Armed Response, Bulletproof, and Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers.) He's put that low-budget know-how to work for his friend Connelly before, shooting a documentary called Blue Neon Night: Michael Connelly's Los Angeles, as well as super-short promo videos for Connelly's novels The Closers and The Lincoln Lawyer.

  But with Echo Park, Lankford and Connelly upped the ante substantially. Not only would they be dramatizing an entire chapter from the book (filming in and around the same apartment building the late Robert Altman used for key scenes in his 1973 adaptation of The Long Goodbye). They'd also be giving a very real face to a character thousands upon thousands of devoted readers have only seen in their imaginations: LAPD detective Harry Bosch.

  Actor Tim Abell got the nod, partially because (like Lankford) his résumé proves he doesn't mind a down-and-dirty shoot: Through much of the ‘90s, he paid the bills with roles in under-the-radar “erotic thriller” fare such as The Escort and Illicit Dreams 2. (He later went on to star in the syndicated action series Solider of Fortune, Inc. and has since landed guest spots on JAG, NCIS, CSI: Miami, and CSI: New York.)

  "We gave it a lot of thought,” Lankford says of casting the near-iconic Bosch. “I have known Tim Abell for almost fifteen years. I was very familiar with his work, and we've done a number of projects together. I knew he could give us a good Bosch. And I knew we would work well together. On a shoot this quick, there is no room for ego. We had a very tight schedule. One mistake and we would miss the book's initial release."

  * * * *

  The face of Harry Bosch? Actually, it's actor Tim Abell.

  * * * *

  For another important role, Lankford turned not to a seasoned pro but to a total newbie—to acting, anyway. Lankford tapped Shamus-winning mystery writer Gar Anthony Haywood (author of the Aaron Gunner mystery series) to play Bosch's slick partner, Jerry Edgar.

  "I was doing a book signing with Gar in Santa Monica, and I had been trying to cast Jerry Edgar,” Lankford says. “I watched Gar interact with the crowd and I thought he would be a natural. He had all the qualities I was looking for in Edgar. He had no acting experience going into the film, but he did a great job. Everyone was very impressed. He could easily have an acting career if he wanted to pursue it."

  * * * *

  The Equalizer.

  * * * *

  If Haywood does decide to try for a SAG card, his buddies Lankford and Connelly might be in a position to help him out. The duo's been collaborating on scripts for years, and they recently landed a high-profile writing assignment: reworking the 1985-1989 television crime drama The Equalizer into a big-budget movie.

  And they wouldn't mind seeing Harry Bosch get the feature film treatment too. If they have their way, one day you'll see Bosch on the silver screen instead of a way, one day you'll see Bosch on the silver screen instead of a computer monitor.

  "We're working on it,” Lankford says guardedly. “But a feature film is a lot more difficult to pull off than one of these shorts. We'll see..."

  * * * *

  Book trailer pioneer M. J. Rose.

  * * * *

  New to the trailer park: novelist Sean Doolittle

  * * * *

  Of course, promoting a book by producing a Hollywood-style movie—even an extremely short one—is the sort of thing only a bestseller like Michael Connelly would have the spare cash to try. But promoting a book by producing a Hollywood-style movie preview? That's not only possible for other authors, it's becoming more and more popular.

  Online promotion companies like VidLit (www.vidlit.com) and BookShorts (www.bookshorts.com) seem to be doing a booming business producing Web-based commercials that aim to sell novels by mimicking the flashy feel of slick movie trailers. According to thriller writer M. J. Rose, a former top gun
at a New York advertising agency, the idea's been around for years but only took off recently.

  "I found the kind of advertising being done for books surprisingly tame when I got started with my first novel, Lip Service, in 1998,” says Rose (who created Buzz, Balls & Hype, a blog devoted to marketing books). “Back then, everyone was on dial-up [for their Internet access], and while I wanted to do a film online, I knew it was too early."

  Three years passed before Rose felt the time was right, and in 2001, she produced a book trailer for her third suspense novel, Flesh Tones.

  "We put it up on my Web site, and I got quite a bit of attention for it. About 2,500 people watched it,” she says. “But it was still early and hard to get people to download something that took ninety seconds to three minutes, depending on their connection."

  As home DSL became common, however, consumers could download even large movie files in mere seconds. Now Rose does online trailers for all her books, and a slew of other authors have begun experimenting with the format.

  * * * *

  * * * *

  "I hate to come off like a joiner, but I was becoming more and more aware that writers were getting out there and trying to be innovative about promoting their books,” says crime novelist Sean Doolittle (Burn, Rain Dogs). “So I thought [an online trailer] was worth a shot, at least once."

  Doolittle was able to hedge his bets (and protect his wallet) by working one-on-one with a friendly Web developer looking to expand his portfolio. The results can be seen at www.thecleanup.com—a short video that uses music, animation, and sound effects to capture the dark vibe of Doolittle's noirish new thriller, The Cleanup.

  "The response has been overwhelmingly positive,” the writer says.

  Yet, as with many marketing strategies, it's hard to pin down exactly how cost-effective Web-based book previews really are.

  "Did the trailer sell any books?” Doolittle muses. “I have no idea."

  Copyright © 2007 Steve Hockensmith

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  THE BONDSTONE by R. T. LAWTON

  For only the third time in his twelve-year career as a bail agent at the Twin Brothers Bail Bond firm, Theodore found himself being allowed to take a seat in front of the proprietor's rich mahogany desk in the inner sanctum. He had no idea what was about to happen, but assumed it must be something of great importance.

  The next thought that followed was to hope this meeting had nothing to do with one of his more recent screwups. He had no wish for his employment—or himself for that matter—to be in any way terminated. By sliding the palm of his left hand over his white, balding scalp, he squeegeed off the first flush of perspiration gathering on top of the shiny dome. As the hand moved, his left little finger—a finger long ago broken, improperly reset, and now permanently rigid—stood straight up like a miniature flagpole. The large yellow diamond set in his pinky ring glistened under the baby spotlight burning down from the inner sanctum's ceiling.

  Frantically searching for clues one way or the other to see if he was in any kind of trouble, Theodore's mind reviewed the last two minutes, starting with the moment he and Moklal Feringheea, the firm's executive secretary, had stepped through the sanctum doorway. Upon their entry, the proprietor, Cletis Johnston, dressed in a suit of caramel-colored Shantung silk to complement his skin tones, had barely glanced up from his paperwork long enough to wave the back of one slender black hand at the two employees standing before him. Then he murmured a quick, “Be seated."

  But when Theodore looked around the room for a place to sit, he realized the only available chairs were located against the far side wall. Obediently, he trudged across the room, singled out one of the high-backed wooden chairs, turned it around, and dragged it backward across the large Persian carpet laid out on the floor in front of Mr. Johnston's desk. Pivoting the heavy chair in a ninety degree arc on one of its rear legs, Theodore placed the cushioned seat four-square to the desk. However, as soon as the front legs hit the floor, the firm's executive secretary stepped sideways and took immediate possession of the chair.

  "But...” exclaimed Theodore as he glared at the cadaverous profile of the now seated Hindu, “...you can't..."

  Moklal sat quietly, facing forward as if ready for the meeting to begin.

  Swinging his gaze over to the proprietor, Theodore waited. However, no assistance seemed forthcoming from that quarter. Cletis Johnston had simply gone on reading the paperwork on his desk and appeared not to have noticed the grave injustice being committed a mere few feet in front of him. Theodore tried again.

  "That's not..."

  Then pausing for several minutes like a sibling hoping for retribution through the authority of a favored parent, he at last gave up with a theatrical sigh. Muttering dark thoughts under his breath about the proprietor's pet Thuggee, Theodore trudged back over to the side wall, selected another high-backed chair, turned it around, and commenced the long journey of dragging it backward.

  Halfway through this second trek across the expensive Persian carpet, Theodore glanced down and happened to notice a set of parallel tracks left behind by the rear legs of the first chair. This deep trail of ruffled nap, it was plain to see, had very recently been pressed into the proprietor's very expensive Persian weave. And these tracks led straight to the chair in front of the desk.

  He resisted the urge to look back over his shoulder. That meant there had to be a similar second trail right behind him, with both sets of these parallel lines pointing directly toward the guilty party. Self-preservation in mind, Theodore tried scuffing out the damning tracks with the toes of his black rubber-soled shoes. He quit when he felt a heavy silence and looked up to find the proprietor staring at him.

  "Uh, sorry."

  The only reply was an ominous silence.

  Hastily placing the second chair in an appropriate location before the executive desk, Theodore ran around to the front and plopped himself up onto the seat cushion as if the melody in a round of musical chairs had suddenly stopped and he didn't want to miss out on the only remaining chance in the game. The height of the chair and the shortness of his legs left the black rubber soles of his shoes swinging back and forth a few inches above the carpet.

  In the meantime, Cletis Johnston had tented the fingers of both hands and continued to stare at the stubby bond agent.

  Theodore made it a point to look elsewhere.

  "Someone,” Cletis finally said, now focusing his attention on both employees, “seeks to remove me from the helm of our lucrative bail bond business."

  Theodore didn't know whether to relax about his past or become worried about his future. This meeting evidently did not concern any prior failures on his part. The way he looked at it, that in and of itself should be a good omen for him. His mind, however, kept wrestling with the grim wording of the proprietor's statement, and now began to run fleeting visions of long unemployment lines, a gradual decline in his financial well-being, and the inevitable finality of cardboard walls becoming his future living quarters. And of course, the frequent rains in the Bay City area meant he would have a soggy residence in whatever alleyway his big-screen TV box ended up in, assuming he could even find a box that large to become his domicile. His situation would soon rapidly deteriorate to what the media sometimes referred to as an American tragedy. Therefore, in order to better clarify the proprietor's “removal from the helm” statement, Theodore decided it might be wise to first venture a question about the business, especially since he had lately taken to scanning the Wall Street Journal in hopes of broadening his communication skills in the business world.

  "You mean that our firm is now the target of a hostile takeover, in which case Moklal and I will be the victims of a downsizing?"

  The proprietor blinked.

  "Just so you understand, Theodore, there are no corporate raiders buying up large blocks of common stock in our firm in order to put their own people on the board of directors.” Cletis Johnston leaned forward in his executive chair.
“No, any takeover of this sole proprietorship will be very messy, and it won't be done with stocks. As for you and Moklal becoming the victims of a downsizing, that will only occur if various parts of your body are placed in different suitcases for a ride out into the bay."

  "Oh."

  Theodore didn't much care for the visual image produced by the proprietor's wording, as he rather preferred to keep all of his body parts attached right where they were.

  "In the last two days,” continued the proprietor, “there have been two attempts on my life. And since I am the bondstone for this organization, it is in your best interests to protect my well-being. Beginning now, Moklal Feringheea will be my constant bodyguard."

  Cletis paused in speech while he rummaged inside his open briefcase on the desk.

  "What's a bondstone?” whispered Theodore out of the corner of his mouth.

  "It is the stone which holds masonry together,” replied Moklal in a normal voice.

  Theodore's feet stopped swinging as he turned to stare at the executive secretary.

  "I thought mortar held the masonry together."

  Moklal went silent.

  Cletis Johnston cleared his throat.

  Theodore immediately snapped his head back to the forward position and tried to appear attentive.

  "When a mason builds an arched doorway,” patiently explained the proprietor, “the last stone to be placed is specifically shaped and fitted to hold the stress of the arch. It is this bondstone that keeps the doorway from collapsing in on itself. Are we clear on this matter?"

  "Yes sir, I think so."

  "Then we shall move on to other matters."

  Cletis produced a single sheet of paper and prepared to read from it.

  "Excuse me, sir,” interrupted Theodore, “but if Moklal has the job of being your bodyguard, then what am I supposed to do?"

  "You, Theodore, will take care of two other situations."

  "What other situations do we have?"