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Executive Times |
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2007 Book Reviews |
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The
Watchman: A Joe Pike Novel by Robert Crais |
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Rating: |
*** |
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(Recommended) |
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Click on
title or picture to buy from amazon.com |
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Protector Robert Crais continues to satisfy his fans and improve the value
of his franchise with his latest book, The
Watchman: A Joe Pike Novel. Fans will know that Joe Pike was the sidekick
of private investigator Elvis Cole in almost a dozen previous novels by Crais. By the subtitle, Crais
appears to announce that Joe Pike will become a brand of his own, like a spin-off
television series. In The
Watchman, the sidekick takes center stage, and his integrity and
character develop alongside the fast-paced plot. In The
Watchman, Pike agrees to protect an heiress from harm in order to pay
back an old debt. Here’s an excerpt, all of Chapter 3, pp. 22-27: Pike turned into the
Bristol Farms on Sunset at She said, “What are we
doing?” “I have to call someone. Get out.” “Why don’t you call from the car?”
“I don’t trust my cell. Get out.” “Can’t I wait here?” “No.” Pike was concerned she
might be recognized even with the new hair and sunglasses, but she might
change her mind about staying with him, take off running, and get herself
killed. They had known each other for exactly sixteen hours. They were
strangers. Larkin hurried around
the Jeep to catch up. “Who are you calling?” “We need new wheels
and a place to stay. We need to learn something about the people who are
trying to kill you. If the police are after us, it changes our moves.” “What do you mean,
moves? What are we going to do?” Pike was tired of
talking, so he didn’t. He led her past the flower stand at the front of the
market to a bank of pay phones, and pushed quarters into a phone. Larkin hooked her arm
around his, as though the Santa Anas would blow her
away if she wasn’t anchored. She glanced into the market. “I want to get
something to eat.” “No time.” “I could get something
while you’re talking.” “Later.” Pike owned
a small gun shop in A man
named Ronnie answered on the second ring. “Gun shop.” Pike said, “I’m calling in
two.” Pike hung up. Larkin squeezed his arm. “Who was that?” “He works for me.” “Is he a
bodyguard, too?” Pike ignored her, watching
the second hand circle his Rolex. Ronnie would be walking next door to the laundromat for Pike’s call. While Pike waited, two men
in their late twenties passed by on their way out of the market. One of them
looked Larkin up and down, and the other stared at her face. Larkin looked
back at them. Pike tried to read if the second man recognized her. Out in the
parking lot they goosed each other before climbing into a black Audi, so Pike
decided they hadn’t. Pike said, “Don’t do that
again.” “What?” “Make eye contact like you
did with those guys. Don’t do it.” Pike thought she was going
to say something, hut instead she pressed her lips together and stared into
the market. “I could have gotten
something to eat by now.” At the two-minute mark,
Pike made his call and Ronnie picked up. Pike sketched the situation, then told Ronnie to close the shop and send everyone home.
The men who wanted Larkin dead had almost certainly known Pike’s identity
when they hit the safe houses, but hadn’t needed it to find the girl. Now
that Pike had disappeared with her, they would try to find Larkin by finding
him, and this knowledge would give them the people in Pike’s life like
overlapping ripples, one ripple leading to another, each ripple breaking the
next. Ronnie said, “I hear you.
What do you need?” “A car and a cell phone.
Get one of those prepaid phones they sell at Best Buy or Target.” “Okey-doke.
You can use my old Lexus, you want. That okay?” Ronnie’s Lexus was
twelve years old. Ronnie’s wife had handed it down to their daughter, but his
daughter was away at law school, so mostly the car sat parked. It was dark
green. Pike told Ronnie to leave
the Lexus at an Albertsons they both knew in thirty-five minutes, just leave
it and walk away. Thirty-five minutes would give Pike time to hit his condo
before ditching the Jeep. Pike said, “Ronnie.
Turn on the security and surveillance cameras when you guys lock up. Then
don’t go back. Nobody go back until you hear from me.” “Might be better if we
stayed open. If your friends roll around we could sort’m
out.” “LAPD might come
around, too.” “I hear you.” Pike hung up and
immediately walked the girl back to his Jeep. He felt the passing minutes
like a race he was losing. Once you engaged the enemy, speed was everything.
Speed was life. She pulled at his arm.
“You’re walking too fast.” “We have a lot to do “Where are we going?” “My
place.” “Is that where we’re
going to stay?” “No. The shooters are
going there, too.” Pike lived in a
sprawling condominium complex in Pike drove directly to
his complex, but didn’t enter the property. He circled the wall, looking for
anyone who might be watching the gates or watching out for his Jeep. Pike
hated bringing the girl to his condo, but he believed the window of time
through which he could enter was shrinking. Pike circled the complex
once, then turned into the rear drive and waved the gate open with his key. Larkin
looked around at the buildings. “This isn’t so bad. I
thought you probably lived in some grungy rat hole. How much money do
bodyguards make?” Pike said, “Get on the
floor under the dash.” “Can I get
something to eat at your place? You gotta have something
to eat, don’t you?” “You won’t
be getting out of the car.” Pike knew she rolled her
eyes even without seeing it, but she slithered down under the dash. “When men ask me to go down
like this, it’s usually for something else.” Pike glanced at her. “Funny.” “Then why don’t you smile?
Don’t bodyguards ever smile?” “I’m not a bodyguard.” Pike drove to the small lot
where he normally parked. Only three cars were in the lot, and he recognized
all three. He stopped, but did not take the jeep out of gear or shut the
engine. The grounds were landscaped with palm trees, hibiscus, and sleek
birds-of-paradise. Concrete walks wound between the palms. Pike studied the
play of greens and browns and other colors against the stucco walls and
Spanish roofs. Larkin
said, “What’s happening?” Pike
didn’t answer. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, so he let the Jeep drift
forward and finally shut the engine. He could take the girl with him, but
would move faster without her. Pike held
omit the Kimber. “I’ll be thirty seconds.
Here.” She shook her head. “I hate guns.” “Then stay
here. Don’t move.” Pike
slipped out of the Jeep before she could answer and trotted up the walk to
his door. He checked the two dead-bolt locks and found no sign of tampering.
He let himself in and went to a touch pad he had built into the wall. Pike
had installed a video surveillance system that covered the entrance to his
home and the ground floor. Pike set his alarm,
let himself out, and trotted back to the Jeep.
Larkin was still under the dash. She said, “What did
you do?” “I don’t know anything
about these people. If they come here, we’ll get their picture and I’ll have
something to work with.” “Can I get up?” “Yes.” When they passed back
through the gate, no one appeared in the rearview mirror. Pike turned toward
the Albertsons. Larkin climbed out
from under the dash and fastened her seat belt. She looked calmer now.
Better. Pike felt better, too. She said, “What are we
going to do now?” “Get the new car, then
a safe place to stay. We still have a lot to do.” “If you’re not a
bodyguard, what are you? Bud told my father you used to be a policeman.” “That was a long time
ago.” “What do you do now?
When someone asks what you do, say you’re at a party or a bar, and you’re
talking to a woman you like, what do you tell her?” “Businessman.” Larkin laughed, but it
was high-pitched and strained. “I grew up with
businessmen. You’re no businessman.” Pike wanted her to
stop talking, but he knew the fear she had been carrying was heating the way
coals will heat when you blow on them, and the chatter would only get worse.
This was a quiet time, and the quiet times in combat were the worst. You
might be fine when hell was raining down, but in those moments when you had
time to think, that’s when you shook like a wet dog in the wind. Pike sensed
she was feeling like the dog. Pike touched the side
of her head. When he touched her, her lips trembled, so he knew he was right. “Whatever I am, I
won’t hurt you, and I won’t let anyone else hurt you.” “You promise?” “Way it is.” He smoothed the spiky hair
still coarse with fresh color, but that’s when she spoke again. “You think I’m oblivious,
but I know what you’re doing. We could leave Pike
concentrated on driving. “Told you. I’m not a
bodyguard.” She didn’t say anything
more for a while, and Pike was thankful for the silence. Any reader who
enjoys crime fiction will enjoy reading The
Watchman. After one dose, you’re likely to want more of Joe Pike. Steve Hopkins,
May 25, 2007 |
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The recommendation rating for
this book appeared in the June 2007
issue of Executive Times URL for this review: http://www.hopkinsandcompany.com/Books/The
Watchman.htm For Reprint Permission,
Contact: Hopkins & Company, LLC • E-mail: books@hopkinsandcompany.com |
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