In 1972, E. Howard Hunt was arrested for his part in the Watergate Hotel break-in, but in 1961, Hunt was still working for the CIA's anti-Castro operations (specifically the disastrous Bay of Pigs invasion) and writing crime novels under pseudonyms — novels like House Dick, which was first published under the name "Gordon Davis." (The fact that the Watergate is name-dropped on page 18 is just a coincidence, right?)
Pete Novak is the house detective at the Tilden Hotel in Washington, D.C. Mostly his job consists of boring activities like the one he's confronted with this morning: Julia Boyd insists her jewelry has been stolen and wants Novak to find it. But things get a little more interesting when Julia's husband, Chalmers Boyd, suggests to Novak that his wife "suffers frequent delusions" and to not bother doing anything about it.
Novak is going to find things even more intriguing when other connections pop up with a young blonde also staying in the hotel, her mobster husband, and a private physician with unconventional prescriptions. Somebody's going to end up very dead, and this dick will stick his nose where it doesn't belong.
Author Hunt offers, at the very least, a seemingly original conceit in his protagonist's occupation. However, this does not save House Dick from its ultimate fate of being highly forgettable. Novak stays on the move for most of the novel, offering the pretense of action, but mostly seeming not to do much at all until near the end. The solution is no surprise. There's little here that hasn't been done better elsewhere. It would be safe to say that I was bored. I don't usually like to make such harsh pronouncements, but there you have it.
Nitpicker's Note: Maybe note paper needs to remain "stationary" when you use it, but you still have to buy it in the "stationery" department. Also, a hotel should offer some peace, but rooms should not be "quiet easy to find."
A Master of Small-Town Procedurals
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