Widely acclaimed for his groundbreaking crime novels Booked to Die and The Bookman's Wake, award-winning author John Dunning triumphantly returns with a riveting new thriller that takes us back to the summer of 1942, when radio was in its prime, when daylight saving time gave way to "wartime," when stations like WHAR on the New Jersey coast struggled to create programming that entertained and inspired a nation in its dark hour.
Into this intense community of radio artists and technicians in Regina Beach, New Jersey, come Jack Dulaney and Holly Carnahan. They are determined to find Holly's missing father, whose last desperate word came from this noisy seaside town. Holly sings like an angel and has what it takes to become a star. Jack -- a racetrack hot-walker and novelist who's hit every kind of trouble in his travels from sea to sea -- tries out as a writer at WHAR and soon discovers a passion for radio and a natural talent for script writing.
While absorbing the ways of radio, from writing to directing, he meets some extraordinarily brave and gifted people who touch his life in ways he could not have imagined -- actresses Rue, Pauline, and Hazel; actor-director Waldo, creator of the magnificent black show Freedom Road; and enigmatic station owner Loren Harford, among others.
Jack's zeal for radio is exceeded only by his devotion to Holly, who needs his help but who is terrified for his safety. Strange things are happening in Regina Beach, starting with an English actor who walked out of the station six years ago and was never seen again. And Holly's father is gone too, in equally puzzling circumstances. As Jack and Holly penetrate deeper into the shadows of the past, they learn that someone will do anything, including murder, to hide some devastating truths.
In a stunning novel that transcends genre, John Dunning calls upon his vast knowledge of radio and his incisive reading of history to create a poignant, page-turning work of fiction that sheds new insights on some of the most harrowing events of the twentieth century. Like E. L. Doctorow's Billy Bathgate or Caleb Carr's The Alienist, Dunning's brilliant tale of mystery, murder, and revenge brings to life another time, another place, another world.
|Publisher:||Simon & Schuster Audio|
|Edition description:||Abridged, 4 cassettes, 7 hrs.|
|Product dimensions:||4.00(w) x 7.00(h) x 1.12(d)|
About the Author
John Dunning has revealed some of book collecting’s most shocking secrets in his bestselling series of crime novels featuring Cliff Janeway: Booked to Die, which won the prestigious Nero Wolfe award; The Bookman’s Wake, a New York Times Notable Book; and the New York Times bestsellers The Bookman’s Promise, The Sign of the Book, and The Bookwoman’s Last Fling. He is also the author of the Edgar Award-nominated Deadline, The Holland Suggestions, and Two O’Clock, Eastern Wartime. An expert on rare and collectible books, he owned the Old Algonquin Bookstore in Denver for many years. He lives in Denver, Colorado. Visit OldAlgonquin.com.
Read an Excerpt
Today, if she should by some trick materialize in the jail beside him, he could do a better job explaining it to her. It began with the fact that his lifelong pal had seen her first. He would always think of them as a couple, even if the stars weren't working and they never actually married. She knew this, of course, but there are shades of truth. He and Tom had been closer than brothers.
Most people would say that didn't matter now. Tom Rooney was at the bottom of Pearl Harbor, but even after his death she was still, in Dulaney's mind, Tom's woman. He would not come slithering upon her like some carpetbagger, wearing the shoes of a summer soldier. Tom would come calling, like Marley in chains.
But she was always on his mind as he worked his way across the land, and he'd thought about little else since yesterday noon. It had begun with the clang of the jailhouse door, the deputy waking him from a light sleep. "You got comp'ny, Dulaney. Fella says he's your lawyer."
Dulaney didn't have a lawyer. It had to be Kendall: nobody else would know or care where he might possibly be. The deputy opened the cell and motioned Dulaney ahead of him, along a dimly lit hallway to a little room at the end. The window was barred and the room was empty except for a battered wooden table and two rickety chairs.
Kendall was sitting in one of the chairs. He didn't look like a lawyer. His clothes, like Dulaney's, were those of a workingman. His shoes were scuffed and coming out at the toes. He looked like what he was, an out-of-work radio actor who had seen better days.
They shook hands and Dulaney sat at the table. The deputy stayed in the room, at the edge of earshot.
"How'd you find me, Marty?"
Kendall smiled sadly. "You weren't at the hotel, so I tried the café. I got there just as the paddy wagon was pulling out."
"I'm a little amazed they let you in here."
Kendall lowered his voice, cutting his eyes at the deputy. "I keep telling you, Jack, I was a damn good actor in my day. So what happened?"
Dulaney smiled. "Just a little mayhem. Resisting arrest. Assault on a police officer. Kid stuff."
Kendall stifled the urge to laugh. Dulaney noticed streaks of gray in his mustache and in the curly hair around his ears. He had always thought of Kendall as around forty but now he thought fifty was closer.
He told Kendall how the trouble had started. He had gone out to get something to eat. Some sailors and some girls started razzing him about being in the home guard. "I guess I was the only fellow in the place out of uniform. This is nothing new. In the Civil War women would see a man out of uniform and they'd shame him in public."
Kendall said nothing. "They probably don't bother you," Dulaney said. "You're a bit older than me. And most of the time I don't let it bother me. But this one gal wouldn't leave it alone. She had the waiter bring me some squash. That's supposed to be the last word in insults. You feed squash to the home guard so the color'll stay bright in their backbones."
"So what did you do?"
"Hell, I like squash. Figured I might as well eat it." Dulaney leaned forward. "I've been hungry enough times that I'm not about to let good food get chucked just because some silly female wasn't raised right. What happened next is probably in the arrest report."
"They say you took on the whole café."
"One thing led to another. I finally told those boys they'd end up in the clap shack if they didn't quit messing with whores. I didn't have to say that, but there we were. The sailors had to stand up and they came up short. If those are the best fighting men we've got in this war, we may be in trouble."
The deputy cleared his throat. "You boys start winding it up."
"It didn't last long. The gendarmes came, four big cops with their billies out." Dulaney touched his head, a tender place the size of a peach.
"I wish you hadn't taken on the cops, Jack."
"I've got nothing against cops as a rule, but the sight of a billy club gets my back up. I've known too many good people who got their heads busted open just because they were down on their luck. So here I am."
"I hear judges get real mean when you start fighting with cops."
"The guard says he'll give me six months, unless I've got the money for the fine. That seems to be automatic for a first offense. If I volunteer to go to the work camp he'll cut my time in half."
"What are you talking about, a chain gang?"
"They don't call it that and they don't chain you together. I get the feeling it's not official and maybe that's why we get to choose. The word comes back to the prisoners through the guards if you work, they'll cut your time; if you don't, you go to jail and serve it all."
"Man, that stinks. Goddamn judge is probably getting paid off."
"Maybe so, but I'm going to take it. I'll use it in a book."
Kendall didn't say anything but again Dulaney felt a strain in the room between them. He couldn't put his finger on it, what it was about Kendall that had bothered him from the start. He thought there was a lie somewhere, that some part of Kendall's old life had been omitted or fabricated, and Kendall couldn't lie without turning away. Kendall had been an accomplished radio actor who could live a dozen lies a week on the air, but in real life he was like Dulaney: he couldn't lie to a friend.
"What's the matter with you, Marty? Something's been eating you since the day we met."
The deputy's voice cut across the room. "You boys about done?"
"Give us one more minute," Dulaney said.
He leaned over, and softly, so the guard wouldn't hear, said, "Are you in trouble with the law?"
"Hell no. I've never even been inside a jail before today. Christ, why would you even think of something like that?"
"I've been around enough men on the lam to know another one when I see him. Something's been on your mind, right from the start."
Kendall shook his head, a slight movement, barely perceptible. "That doesn't make any sense. How could I be running from the law and still trying to get back into radio?"
Dulaney waited but Kendall did not enlighten him. The guard made a time's-up motion with his hands. Dulaney said, "Look, I'd appreciate it if you'd check me out of that hotel. Pick up my papers and my notes. There's a half-finished story I'm working on: make sure you get that. Put it in a box and stash it in the trunk of the car."
"Consider it done."
"You've been a good friend, Marty. Even if I'm not always sure I know you."
"Let's go, boys," the deputy said.
But then at the last moment Kendall said, "Just one more thing. Do you know a woman named Holly Carnahan?"
Dulaney tensed. "Yes, I know Holly."
"There's a letter for you at the hotel. It just came today. It's three months old."
"Go back to the hotel right now," Dulaney said. "Open it and read it, then come here tomorrow and tell me what it says."
Copyright © 2001 by John Dunning
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
We listened to this book (read by the wonderful Boyd Gaines) on a long car ride, and I'd say if it weren't for the need to stay occupied for 11 hours I don't think I would have stuck with it. We found the plot to be overly contrived and convoluted, and even in an abridged version too long by about 30%. I was particularly disappointed as I've been a fan of Dunning's Cliff Janeway series. Not terrible, but wish I'd picked something different this time.
Tony-Award winner Boyd Gaines delivers an impressive reading of John Dunning's much anticipated thriller, 'Two O'Clock, Eastern Wartime.' Those who have seen Gaines either on Broadway, in films, or on television (Frasier, L.A. Law) know he's a multi talented actor. He brings all of these talents to bear in his topnotch rendering of a suspense laden tale set in the radio days of 1942. Fans of Dunning's 'Booked To Die' and 'The Bookman's Wake' will relish this trip to New Jersey based radio station WHAR. Once again, Dunning creates believable, affecting characters in singer Holly Carnahan and script writer Jack Dulaney. Holly's father has vanished, and his disappearance may be linked to an actor who worked at the station some years ago. As the plot unravels, we're reminded again of just why Dunning so richly deserved his Nero Wolfe Award. Dunning + Gaines = superb listening.