Little Girl Lost

Private Investigator John Blake questions his choice of occupation. But a picture in the newspaper of his former girlfriend, Miranda Sugarman, draws him back into the game. The last John knew, Miranda was going to medical school in California to be an ophthalmologist. Ten years later, her body is found in New York City, on the roof of the strip club where she worked. Against the advice of his partner, Leo, John begins investigating the death of Miranda. Along the way, he manages to get beat up a few times and arrested for murder. On top of which, someone is threatening to kill him if he doesn't stop. Although the ending is predictable and no great surprise, this is a good read. Aleas has an easy style, with enough "oomph" to keep the reader thoroughly entertained.

LITTLE GIRL LOST is the debut novel of Richard Aleas, a new voice who already has won well-deserved critical and commercial acclaim for his short fiction. I mention that this is Aleas's "debut" novel simply to save you the trouble of trying to hunt down his previous books, something that you instinctively will be inclined to do after reading this fine, dark, angst-laden tale of love and greed. Make no mistake, however: Aleas, his first time out, demonstrates that he has the chops of a journeyman wordsmith. The "little girl lost" of the title is Miranda Sugarman, the high school senior class sweetheart of John Blake. Sugarman and Blake parted ways after graduation, each with high hopes that ended in diminished results. Blake, who had planned to go on to college and be one of the world's great thinkers, became a private investigator for a competent but struggling investigation firm. He thought that Sugarman had pursued and caught her dream of medical school and an ophthalmology practice. His presumption is abruptly and irreparably shattered when he opens his newspaper one morning and reads that Sugarman --- working as a stripper at The Sin Factory, a tawdry, second-string New York City club --- has been brutally murdered. Though it has been ten years since he last saw Sugarman, Blake is compelled to investigate the circumstances surrounding her death, not only to bring her killer to justice but also to determine --- if he can --- what diverted her from her plans to practice medicine. Blake brings a dogged, almost foolish, determination to the task, and soon finds himself forging an unlikely and uneasy alliance with Murco Khachadurian, the owner of The Sin Factory and a second-tier criminal whose penchant for cruelty is legendary. Khachadurian was robbed of over one million dollars by two guys who made the mistake of letting him live. When he caught up with them, Khachadurian got half of his money back, and a name: the hoods, with their last words, gave up Sugarman as the brains behind the caper. The problem is that someone got to Sugarman before Khachadurian did, and Khachadurian is betting that whoever this person was got the rest of his money. He accordingly wants Blake to find the murderer --- and he's not giving him much time to do it. Aleas keeps a tight grip on his plot at all times. A strong, confident writer, he never loses track of his story while creating sympathy and understanding for Blake, who must rely more on brains than brawn to get through the puzzle surrounding his "little girl lost." Aleas also tosses in a number of welcome genre stereotypes, including a grizzled cop who has seen it all, a stripper with a heart of gold, and at least one very, very bad girl. There also are a couple of surprises lurking. While veteran fans of hard-boiled detective novels will see one of them coming halfway through the book, it's the one that you won't see coming that will really hit you. LITTLE GIRL LOST is a keeper, and Aleas is a master. I ca

Richard Aleas has done something I never thought possible - capture the full spirit of Sam Spade in a modern cel phone, Google searching world. I've always shied away from this type of noir, but Aleas' book had me hooked from page one - a story about a bird that seemed to be (to me, anyway) a nod to the most famous noir bird - The Maltese Falcon. Fast pace, interesting characters, and a hero's take on life that constantly has me going - yeah, I never thought of it that way, but ain't it the truth. Hard-boiled detectives and snazzy pulp cover art! Glad to see this style of novel back on the bookshelves. Cynthia B

This reader is a devotee of hardboiled crime fiction. Faves include George Pelecanos, Dennis Lehane, Daniel Woodrell, Walter Mosley, and now add Richard Aleas to the list. With Little Girl Lost Aleas mines familiar territory but with his own very unique take. PI John Blake discovers that his high school love, Miranda Sugarman, has been killed...on the roof of a Manhattan strip club...where she worked...as a stripper. Quite a jolt to Blake who'd thought during the ten years since high school that Miranda had most certainly finished her college studies and was a successful eye doctor. Embalmed with a serious need-to-know, Blake sets out to find answers. Who killed Miranda? How did she stray off the path of traditional success? Blake's boss and mentor, Leo, warns him early on "You won't like what you find." More prophetic words have never been spoken. Blake embarks on a journey of discovery and self-discovery. He finds a love interest. He is battered and bruised. He sells his soul to the Devil. And lastly in Aleas' bravo ending, Blake finds out something so shocking, so unbelievable, it throws everything about who he is and what he does as a PI into question. Aleas has star quality, what with his crisp writing, dead-on dialogue, and believable plotting. Find Little Girl Lost.

When the headline "Stripper Murdered" boasts a photo of his ex-girlfriend Miranda Sugarman, John Blake is floored. This is the girl who left their hometown to go off to medical school in Wisconsin to become an eye doctor. What happened that caused her to end up dead on the roof of The Sin Factory? The New York P.I. decides to use his skills to find out. With the most striking first chapter in recent memory, Little Girl Lost, the debut novel of Richard Aleas (pseudonym of acclaimed writer, editor, and entrepreneur Charles Ardai), starts out strong and keeps up the pace (though I don't know that I'd have given my book the same title as a bestselling celebrity autobiography). When your central character is a P.I., you've got to make him not like all the others to keep a reader's interest past the crime he's trying to solve. John Blake -- interestingly, given the genre -- is not your typical "tough guy." Instead of running headlong into trouble willy-nilly, he likes to avoid it, but not enough to appear weak. He's like Jackie Chan; he knows he can handle himself, he'd just like to get away with as few bruises as possible (Robert Parker's Spenser also comes to mind). Blake depends on his intelligence and quick wit to get him through. This makes him easier to identify with for a reader with no chance whatsoever of finding himself in such a situation (I hope). The hero's emotional attachment to the victim recalls Dashiell Hammett's classic The Maltese Falcon and this makes him a more sympathetic character, as well as giving us a voyeuristic view into his conflicting feelings. Sitting idly by, we get to watch as Blake realizes that the Miranda who got herself two bullets in the head on a seedy rooftop on New Year's Eve is much different than the girl he loved ten years ago (as depicted through selective flashbacks). With help from his boss Leo and a stripper named Rachel Firestone -- who finds that she has a surprising knack for detective work -- Blake descends into the underworld of flesh display and runs into trouble that goes by the names of Wayne Lenz and Murco "Catch" Khachadurian. Along the way, Aleas gives us an insider's view into the day-to-day workings of a private investigator. This attention to detail, a fast-paced plot, a terrific cover from famed illustrator Robert McGinnis (which continues the half-naked-girl-with-a-gun theme of Hard Case Crime's second entry, Fade to Blonde, and was reportedly even more revealing before the publishers had him "pull up her pants"), fascinating characters (who are seldom all that they seem), and Aleas' definite knack for the genre, all combine to make Little Girl Lost an absolutely terrific read.