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It seems that no one can find Sarita Cisneros Pines—not her well-connected Republican husband, not the FBI, not even a group of violence-prone guys with vaguely South American accents. And when Sughrue starts searching, working his way from Montana to Aspen, to the Mexican border, he comes up empty too. Empty but for a woman and infant who become Sughrue’s responsibility and obsession…the small, strange, hollowed-out sculpture of a duck that means more than he can imagine—and the blood that keeps getting spilled on his shoes. Sughrue, along with a ragged band of Vietnam buddies, a tough-talking female undercover deputy, and an assorted cast of wanderers, lawbreakers, and lost souls, is in the middle of a war he can’t understand. And unlike his last war, C.W. will fight this one to the end, trying to separate traitors from friends and the enemy from the innocent.
Milo Milodragovitch is back in Texas, running the bar of his dreams and trying to do a little private investigating on the side. His relationship with his woman is on the rocks ever since his overnight fling with the classy, scotch-drinking Molly McBride. Now, she’s persuaded Milo to help her search for and bring to justice the lowlife who raped and murdered her sister. A simple stakeout turns hideously violent when it’s discovered that Molly’s prey is no ordinary miscreant, but a brute with major political connections. Soon Milo is calling on connections of his own, including shady computer geniuses, taciturn bodyguards, and his old pal C.W. “Sonny” Sughrue, in a plot that takes him from sweaty, dusty Mexico to the frigid mountains of Montana.
James Crumley is one of the most influential crime writers of the post-Chandler era, and his raw, subversive novels have earned him living legend status. He first introduced readers to C. W. Sughrue (“‘Shoog’ as in sugar. And ‘rue’ as in rue the goddamned day”) in his now classic The Last Good Kiss. An ex-army officer turned Montana private eye, Sughrue is as tough and cynical as he is good-hearted and weak-kneed when it comes to women and booze. He’s back to take readers on a bender through small towns, dark bars, and dank hotel rooms in a novel charged with Crumley’s genius for the poetry of violence.
In The Right Madness, Sughrue’s close friend, psychiatrist Will MacKinderick, begs him to track down stolen confidential psychoanalysis files—he suspects one of his patients is the culprit. Going against every last instinct, Sughrue agrees to take on the case—a $20,000 retainer is always hard to resist. And when the suspects start dying of violently unnatural causes,…[more]