Author: William Baer

Publisher: Able Muse Press

ISBN: 978-1-77349-033-5

Amateur sleuth that I pretend to be, I investigated the publisher of William Baer’s new Jack Colt murder mystery and was not shocked to discover that the company puts out quite a bit of poetry. It was no surprise because I had already begun to read New Jersey Noir: Cape May and was struck by how poetic it seems to be at numerous junctures throughout the narrative. I refer not to whimsical imagery, lyrical style, or verses in rhyme. What I’m talking about is the attitude, the freedom of expression, and a bit of literary experimentation. I mean, when you have a Chapter Six that’s called Appendix I, and when you have a listing of “useless words” that writers use (intoxication, irresistibility, instantaneousness), and when you have outdoor temperature indications at the beginning of every scene… well, you just know you’re in for a bit of literary guinea pig-ness.    

Whether or not that’s everyone’s cup of tea is less important than knowing that such an intriguing  brew is available for anyone who wants a sip. Maybe those who prefer more conventional private eye fare will suddenly realize that they are capable of developing a taste for something new. 

After all, it’s not as if Mr. Baer has never brewed before. Not only is this the second in his Jack Colt murder mystery series, but he’s published at least 20 other books, including award-winners like The Unfortunates, which received the T. S. Eliot Prize. 

Still, it’s not the only cup-of-tea situation some readers may face. This is a very New Jersey story (and I am painfully, ironically aware that the last phrase a die-hard Jerseyite would use is ‘cup of tea’). But here, too, is where cautious customers might be able to drop their guard for the sake of a fine time. Because Jersey lore (and the obligatory jokes that go with it) became Jersey lore (and jokes) in the first place simply because the people, places and things that spawned them are rich in atmosphere, attitude, tone, detail, quirkiness… And aren’t those always ingredients for a good novel?

In New Jersey Noir: Cape May, tough, tenacious and acerbic private detective Jack Colt is summoned to the southern tip of the Garden State peninsula, Cape May, the crown jewel of the Jersey Shore, as it is known to many, to investigate a cold case that apparently has a close connection to the murder of the gumshoe who was investigating it before it went cold. As you might expect, things only get a lot twistier and turnier from there. 

Years ago I had an assignment for New Jersey Savvy Living, a now-defunct magazine, to write a feature article called Jersey Noir, which had as its subtitle, What is it about the Garden State that makes it the setting of choice for so many whodunits? In it I explored the literary sub-genre and what made it tick, citing such works as Killing Time in Ocean City, Wrong Beach Island, and Cape Mayhem, all by Jane Kelly, First Degree by David Rosenfelt, and To the Nines by Janet Evanovich. Evanovich’s fictional bounty hunter Stephanie Plum does most of her work and has most of her adventures in New Jersey in just about all of the Stephanie Plum novels. When I interviewed the author for that article, she said, “I get a lot of mail from out-of-staters who love reading about New Jersey. It’s amazing how many people have left the state and read the Plum series to get their Jersey fix.”

Had New Jersey Noir: Cape May been around back then, it would likely have made it into that article. I didn’t concentrate too much on style, format, characters, or resolutions in choosing books to cover. I concentrated on the Garden State. I was living there at the time, and had been for quite a while, and I knew the places, the roads, the lore, the jokes, even the allure of at least for some parts of the state. That’s why I wanted to write the article.

The same is true with Mr. Baer’s novel. I wanted to review it because I had a kindship with much of what he wrote about. For me, the only question that remains now is just how much of a kinship people who have no relationship to the state at all (or worse, hate it) will feel toward the book. But if they’re of the mind that a murder mystery is a murder mystery no matter where it is set, its insider-ness should become less of an issue. 

True, Jack Colt has been placed in a sort of idiosyncratic literary milieu that may differ quite a bit in tone and style from the murder mysteries written by the authors in my Savvy article. But as I noted before, the state itself is idiosyncratic, and that works in the novel’s favor. What’s more, there is wit, cleverness, inscrutability, sarcasm, and surprises through and through. And for many readers, that’s all the poetic justice they need.