G.M. Ford’s ‘The Bum’s Rush’ A Good Yarn

“The Bum’s Rush” By G.M. Ford (Walker and Co., $22.95)

Three novels ago, Seattle writer G.M. Ford introduced private eye Leo Waterman in “Who In Hell Is Wanda Fuca?” - a book that was nominated for an assortment of awards, and that most certainly would have won for most inspired title of the year, if such a prize were given.

Now Leo Waterman is back, prowling the downtown alleys and hilltop mansions of Seattle with equal aplomb, in a neatly crafted book called “The Bum’s Rush.”

The opening chapter is rough. Ford doesn’t bother to throw out the welcome mat for his readers but instead plunges us into a thoroughly unpleasant brawl between winos in a stinking back alley in Pioneer Square. If you can handle this harrowing introduction, things lighten up some - Waterman also mingles with the elite of Seattle’s music scene at a Capitol Hill estate and acquits himself admirably as he treads the halls of posh law offices and the downtown library.

Still, this never turns into a tea party; the author makes sure of that in a number of ways. First, his hero employs a crew of boozy street people as his surveillance team. Second, Waterman’s girlfriend is a forensic pathologist in the coroner’s office. And the private eye’s past tangles with the doting mother of a bail-jumper and an ill-tempered security guard on steroids come back to haunt him, both of which have revenge foremost in their minds.

And then there are the major strands of plot. Waterman’s initial investigation into the disappearance of a longtime associate (one of those who lives on the streets) sparks an auxiliary inquiry into the presumed suicide by overdose of a famous grunge star. Both investigations weave rather elegantly into his paying assignment, which is to locate a library employee who has purloined a couple hundred thousand dollars’ worth of overdue charges and disappeared with the money.

All of this fun is enhanced by Ford’s exuberant use of language. Here are some samples: “The Kingdome squatted like a segmented cement shiitake.” Or, “After a certain age, dates are like four-hour job interviews.” Only rarely does the banter become stiff, such as when Waterman and a police detective spar verbally at the city lock-up.

Careful readers will note a few bloopers. Ford forgets which hospital he has placed one of his characters in - a guy who was checked in at Swedish is later kidnapped from Providence. There are a couple of instances of repeated words in a sentence. And the quotation mark key must have gotten stuck on someone’s computer keyboard, because that punctuation mark pops up in inappropriate places throughout the text.

None of this is enough, however, to detract from a good yarn. “The Bum’s Rush,” set during a typically damp Puget Sound winter, is a fine book to read at poolside in August.