To Die in Beverly Hills

by Gerald Petievich

Book Overview

Fans of Elmore Leonard and Robert Campbell will thrill to this tough, pulse-quickening thriller that delves deep into the mind of a corrupt cop--and the Treasury agent sworn to bring him down. Plotted with delicacy . . . all interlocking events mesh with precision.--Miami Herald.

• Format: Mass Market Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 067163156X
• ISBN13: 9780671631567
• Release Date: December 1989
• Publisher: Pocket Books
• Weight: 0.30 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.7" x 4.2" x 6.8"

Customer Reviews

One of his best

There are writers who can make a book flow faster than a flood stream. There are writers who can turn on a dime and introduce an element into the book the reader did not see coming at all. Finally, there are writers who can convey the milieu of their tale and make it look like what they just did was nothing special. However, it is very rare to see a writer display all these traits in one book. Petievich does it masterfully in To Die in Beverly Hills. This book follows Treasure Agent Charles Carr, a frequent character in Petievich's books. In this one, he and his partner are set up by a crooked Beverly Hills cop on a phony stakeout in which Carr's partner is almost killed. We then follow Carr as he traverses 1980's LA in all its sordid nature teaming with even more sordid characters to determine the truth and punish the guilty. Midway through the book there's a discussion at a singles bar which enables Petievich to make some trenchant observations about the 1980's meat market scene in LA. The cynicism of the author's spot on observations will stay with you long after you finish this book. One thing I have always loved about Petievich is his ability to draw full pictures of the venality of men without surprise or disgust. And for Petievich, that venality runs on both sides of the law. Making yet another appearance is Carr's gutless boss, 'No Waves' Norman Weaves ("I'm behind you 110% on this" as writes Carr up secretly for insubordination), who is constantly trying to stab all around him in the back. Also present is master hypnotist and full time bunco artist Dr. Emil Kreuzer. Kreuzer is a disgusting piece of work with an incredibly smooth line of patter and no sense of morality at all. Watching both No Waves and Kreuzer do their thing with sparse prose is just amazing. Thelonious Monk once said its the notes he didn't play that were important. Likewise, its the paragraphs that Petievich didn't have to write that make the ones he did so good.