The Mike Hammer Collection Part 1

The Mike Hammer collection.

by Mickey Spillane.

The Return of Mike Hammer

Among aficionados of tough crime fiction, few literary mysteries rival that of the disappearance in 1952 of fictional private eye Mike Hammer at the peak of his-and his creator Mickey Spillane's-powers.

The still-unrivaled publis.h.i.+ng success of this Brooklyn-born bartender's son began inauspiciously in 1947 with the hardcover publication by E. P. Dutton of I, the Jury I, the Jury. A few reviewers noticed it as a particularly nasty example of hard-boiled detective fiction, a few praised it, most panned it, and sales were less than ten thousand copies. There was such little notice taken of Mike Hammer's first adventure that when the young writer submitted a second Hammer novel, For Whom the G.o.ds Would Destroy For Whom the G.o.ds Would Destroy, Dutton rejected it. Spillane returned to the comic book field where, among other things, he wrote love comics.

Then, in December 1948, New American Library's paperback edition of I, the Jury I, the Jury came out and started selling-and selling. In part thanks to a vivid cover portraying the now-famous denouement of the novel-a seated Mike Hammer's back to the camera as he trains his .45 on a disrobing femme fatale-the book attracted legions of readers. Spillane was asked to resubmit came out and started selling-and selling. In part thanks to a vivid cover portraying the now-famous denouement of the novel-a seated Mike Hammer's back to the camera as he trains his .45 on a disrobing femme fatale-the book attracted legions of readers. Spillane was asked to resubmit For Whom the G.o.ds Would Destroy For Whom the G.o.ds Would Destroy, which he declined to do (more on that subject later), and instead My Gun Is Quick My Gun Is Quick appeared in 1950, the second of six Hammer novels that would top bestseller lists worldwide, making Spillane the first pop-lit superstar-so big, it well and truly p.i.s.sed off Ernest Hemingway, who asked to have Spillane's picture removed from a barroom wall in Florida and got his own taken down for the trouble. appeared in 1950, the second of six Hammer novels that would top bestseller lists worldwide, making Spillane the first pop-lit superstar-so big, it well and truly p.i.s.sed off Ernest Hemingway, who asked to have Spillane's picture removed from a barroom wall in Florida and got his own taken down for the trouble.

Sixty years later, to describe the impact of those six novels-and a seventh non-Hammer Spillane, The Long Wait The Long Wait-is to tempt credulity. The millions of copies the blue-collar writer sold unveiled an audience for franker, more violent popular fiction, and the mystery field in particular was riddled with his imitators. This went beyond just other writers copying Spillane-the first major publisher of paperback original fiction, Gold Medal Books, was created in 1950 to serve the market Spillane had uncovered. He was even their paid consultant, and provided a memorable blurb for one of their mainstays, John D. MacDonald ("I wish I had written this book!"). Gold Medal's major Hammer imitation was the Sh.e.l.l Scott series by Richard S. Prather, zany comedies that nonetheless worked in the extreme violence and s.e.x Spillane had first trafficked.

The sixth Hammer novel, Kiss Me, Deadly Kiss Me, Deadly (1952), became the first private eye novel to crack the (1952), became the first private eye novel to crack the New York Times New York Times bestseller list (the likes of Das.h.i.+ell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, and Erle Stanley Gardner had never come close), and the paperback edition was as wildly successful as its predecessors. Hollywood, via British producer/director Victor Saville, came calling, and the new Spillane book and three others were headed for the silver screen. bestseller list (the likes of Das.h.i.+ell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, and Erle Stanley Gardner had never come close), and the paperback edition was as wildly successful as its predecessors. Hollywood, via British producer/director Victor Saville, came calling, and the new Spillane book and three others were headed for the silver screen.

In the midst of success and celebrity that the young writer could never have imagined came a similarly shocking barrage of attacks. Though often characterized as a right-wing writer, Spillane was-like Das.h.i.+ell Hammett (but not serving jail time!)-a victim of the McCarthy era. The former comic book writer found himself (alone among popular fiction pract.i.tioners) caught up in a four-color witch hunt that started with well-meaning but misguided psychiatrist Dr. Fredric Wertham and ended with a farcical Senate hearing. Wertham's anticomics book Seduction of the Innocent Seduction of the Innocent (1954) detailed example after example of rampant violence, s.e.xually suggestive content, and latent h.o.m.os.e.xuality in the superhero, crime, and horror "funnies" of the fifties. He singled out only one popular fiction author: Mickey Spillane. (1954) detailed example after example of rampant violence, s.e.xually suggestive content, and latent h.o.m.os.e.xuality in the superhero, crime, and horror "funnies" of the fifties. He singled out only one popular fiction author: Mickey Spillane.

Wertham was not alone in going after Spillane hammer and tongs-diatribes in countless publications from The Atlantic The Atlantic to to Parents Parents magazine attacked Spillane as a purveyor of filth, the nadir of popular culture, and the illegitimate father of juvenile delinquency. In public, and even in private, Spillane laughed all this off. But he was secretly troubled and frustrated that what he had conceived as sheer entertainment would be taken so seriously, and that he had become a kind of household-name villain, a synonym for s.e.x and sadism. magazine attacked Spillane as a purveyor of filth, the nadir of popular culture, and the illegitimate father of juvenile delinquency. In public, and even in private, Spillane laughed all this off. But he was secretly troubled and frustrated that what he had conceived as sheer entertainment would be taken so seriously, and that he had become a kind of household-name villain, a synonym for s.e.x and sadism.

How much effect this had on Spillane's decision to stop writing Mike Hammer novels after his sixth one is unknown. I spoke to him about this many times, and got many answers (some elliptical, others disingenuous), and have come to feel there's no one solution to the mystery.

Similarly, it's hard to know whether Spillane's conversion to the conservative religious sect the Jehovah's Witnesses was in part a response to this over-the-top criticism. Did Spillane feel guilty, and were the Witnesses his redemption? He never said. He rarely spoke about his religious beliefs in public, and in private said only that he'd responded to what he'd been told by a couple of Watchtower Watchtower-dispensing missionaries who came to his door in typical Witness fas.h.i.+on.

What can't be denied is the problem created by his conservative faith for the hard-hitting, s.e.xually provocative fiction for which he'd become rich and famous. Throughout his career, Spillane would alternate prolific periods with fallow ones, going in and out of the church, taking criticism from his fellow Witnesses as late as The Killing Man The Killing Man (1989), when he was nearly sent packing from his South Carolina Kingdom Hall over the use of profanity. (1989), when he was nearly sent packing from his South Carolina Kingdom Hall over the use of profanity.

The criticism he received, whether from the New York Times New York Times or his church, was surely not the only factor for his seeming dry spell from 1952-1961. Spillane liked to say he wrote only when he needed the money, and in the 1950s, money was pouring in-he was the bestselling writer in the world, and Hollywood was adding to the coffers, as well, though in ways that frustrated him. or his church, was surely not the only factor for his seeming dry spell from 1952-1961. Spillane liked to say he wrote only when he needed the money, and in the 1950s, money was pouring in-he was the bestselling writer in the world, and Hollywood was adding to the coffers, as well, though in ways that frustrated him.

He spent a lot of time dueling with producer Saville, who rejected Spillane's choice to play Mike Hammer, ex-Marine and cop Jack Stang. Spillane, playing himself, and Stang, essentially as Hammer, starred for producers John Wayne and Bob Fellows in the circus thriller Ring of Fear Ring of Fear (1954). Stang, though physically impressive, didn't make the impact onscreen that natural actor Spillane did-the author was clearly the Mike Hammer audiences had been expecting when Saville instead gave them Biff Elliot in (1954). Stang, though physically impressive, didn't make the impact onscreen that natural actor Spillane did-the author was clearly the Mike Hammer audiences had been expecting when Saville instead gave them Biff Elliot in I, the Jury I, the Jury.

Throughout the fifties, the absence of a new Hammer mystery did not keep the first six books from selling and selling, although finally NAL did develop a sort of fill-in, a British author named Fleming said to be the Spillane of the UK. Spillane was having the time of his life, touring with the Clyde Beatty Circus, racing stock cars, and fiddling with Hollywood projects. Saville made three more Spillane films, notably the cla.s.sic Kiss Me Deadly Kiss Me Deadly (1955), directed by Robert Aldrich and with a nicely nasty Hammer in Ralph Meeker. A good, tough TV series starring Darren McGavin ran for two syndicated seasons in the late fifties; there was a radio show and, for a while, even a Hammer comic strip, with Spillane himself writing the Sunday stories. (1955), directed by Robert Aldrich and with a nicely nasty Hammer in Ralph Meeker. A good, tough TV series starring Darren McGavin ran for two syndicated seasons in the late fifties; there was a radio show and, for a while, even a Hammer comic strip, with Spillane himself writing the Sunday stories.

During his bookless near decade, Spillane did keep his hand in the business-he wrote non-Hammer short stories and novellas for surprisingly low-end markets, usually dealing with editors and publishers he knew from his comic book days. The most successful writer in the world was selling his once- or twice-a-year short fiction to lower-tier publications such as Cavalier Cavalier, Male Male, Saga Saga, and Manhunt Manhunt.

He stayed in contact with his book publishers, however, and may have been angling for an improved contract before getting back to work. He was notoriously casual about the business end of things, despite his workingman's pride in his craft, and made a number of bad decisions toward the start of his run of success that he spent much of his life trying to correct. He may have been on a kind of informal strike with Dutton and Signet.

Whatever the case, his return in 1960 with the non-Hammer novel The Deep The Deep earned him mixed reviews (actually a big step up) and the expected blockbuster sales, particularly in paperback. But readers and reviewers alike were asking the same question: earned him mixed reviews (actually a big step up) and the expected blockbuster sales, particularly in paperback. But readers and reviewers alike were asking the same question: Where is Mike Hammer? Where is Mike Hammer?

This collection answers that question, beginning with the novel that signaled the end of the long wait between Hammer books-The Girl Hunters (1961). Few Hammer fans would rate any of the later novels above the initial very famous six ( (1961). Few Hammer fans would rate any of the later novels above the initial very famous six (I, The Jury; My Gun Is Quick My Gun Is Quick; Vengeance is Mine! Vengeance is Mine!; One Lonely Night One Lonely Night; The Big Kill The Big Kill; Kiss Me, Deadly Kiss Me, Deadly). Most, however, would place The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters next on that esteemed list. next on that esteemed list.

Spillane is seldom credited with the innovative brand of continuity he developed in the Hammer series. Most mystery series have interchangeable parts-only the first and last of Agatha Christie's Poirot novels have any real sense of continuity; Archie Goodwin and Nero Wolfe remain ageless as Rex Stout indicates the changing times around them; and-once Erle Stanley Gardner got his cast and format in place-Perry Mason, Della Street, and Paul Drake span four decades or more behaving exactly the same.

Spillane, however, explored the impact of events on his character, so that the shocking conclusion of I, the Jury I, the Jury haunts the detective, with his guilt coming to a head in the fourth Hammer book, the surreal nightmare haunts the detective, with his guilt coming to a head in the fourth Hammer book, the surreal nightmare One Lonely Night One Lonely Night. Even in 1961's The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters , Hammer cops to feeling guilty over the "easy" decision he made on the last page of his 1947 debut novel. , Hammer cops to feeling guilty over the "easy" decision he made on the last page of his 1947 debut novel.

The Girl Hunters answers the question of Hammer's disappearance, literally-the detective, guilt-ridden for causing the seeming death of his partner-secretary, Velda, has been on a seven-year drunk, as evidenced by the famous first line: "They found me in the gutter." Further, Spillane reveals that Hammer's best friend, Captain Pat Chambers of homicide, is now his worst enemy, as Chambers too is revealed to have been in love with Velda. When word comes that Velda may be alive, Hammer the alcoholic goes cold turkey (well, beers don't count, apparently) and soon is back on the mean streets. answers the question of Hammer's disappearance, literally-the detective, guilt-ridden for causing the seeming death of his partner-secretary, Velda, has been on a seven-year drunk, as evidenced by the famous first line: "They found me in the gutter." Further, Spillane reveals that Hammer's best friend, Captain Pat Chambers of homicide, is now his worst enemy, as Chambers too is revealed to have been in love with Velda. When word comes that Velda may be alive, Hammer the alcoholic goes cold turkey (well, beers don't count, apparently) and soon is back on the mean streets.

But Spillane has a great time exploring his hero's new frailties. This Hammer is weak and uncertain after having been out of the game for a long time, and must now coast on his old reputation-and Spillane seems almost puckishly aware of the parallel between himself and Hammer. Whether his religious conversion or the s.e.x-and-sadism critical blasts were factors, it's hard to say, but Spillane's technique has changed-he is more sparing with the s.e.x and violence, although both are present, used, as the writer liked to say, "as exclamation points." The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters signals a Hammer less likely to fire away with his .45 at the drop of a fedora, and shows a move to surprise endings that will often have Hammer tricking the bad guys into killing themselves so he doesn't have to bear the direct guilt. signals a Hammer less likely to fire away with his .45 at the drop of a fedora, and shows a move to surprise endings that will often have Hammer tricking the bad guys into killing themselves so he doesn't have to bear the direct guilt.

The body count is high, but Hammer himself isn't responsible, although the vicious climatic fight with the Russian agent called The Dragon concludes with one of the most casually brutal acts Hammer ever perpetrated. With surprising ease, Spillane moves his fifties detective into the sixties, espionage subst.i.tuting for the Mob and other more conventional villains. Hammer had fought "Commies" before (in One Lonely Night One Lonely Night), but here he's entered the world of his British offspring, James Bond. There's a s...o...b..z element connected to Spillane's own celebrity, including the use of real-life columnist Hy Gardner, a rival and contemporary of Walter Winch.e.l.l and Earl Wilson.

Spillane is at his best in The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters, his storytelling fast-moving, consistently entertaining, and with crisp, tough dialogue and action that shocks when it comes, plus mood-setting descriptions that show off his gift for noir poetry. Spillane employs a surprising narrative technique, the absence of Velda from the story-she is the girl being hunted, but she does not appear.

Spillane saves her reappearance for The Snake The Snake, the eighth Mike Hammer and a direct sequel to The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters. Readers should understand, however, that The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters and and The Snake The Snake were never intended to be one book, one continuous story, and are advised to keep in mind that three years separated the publication of the two. Those fresh from spending time with a drunk Mike Hammer who was struggling to get back to his old self will need a grain of salt, at least, to accept Hammer in were never intended to be one book, one continuous story, and are advised to keep in mind that three years separated the publication of the two. Those fresh from spending time with a drunk Mike Hammer who was struggling to get back to his old self will need a grain of salt, at least, to accept Hammer in The Snake- The Snake-which begins perhaps an hour after The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters ends. Improbably, Hammer is not only his old self again, but is accepted around Manhattan by his cronies as if he'd been away for seven weeks, not seven years. ends. Improbably, Hammer is not only his old self again, but is accepted around Manhattan by his cronies as if he'd been away for seven weeks, not seven years.

Still, The Snake The Snake is a first-rate tough mystery, with Spillane abandoning espionage for more traditional Mob concerns. Hammer and Velda are instantly the team of old as they help a damsel in distress and wade into the murky waters of big-time politics. In some respects, this is as close to a "standard" Mike Hammer mystery as you're likely to find. Had Spillane-like Stout, Christie, Gardner, and so many others-chosen to write dozens of Hammer novels rather than just is a first-rate tough mystery, with Spillane abandoning espionage for more traditional Mob concerns. Hammer and Velda are instantly the team of old as they help a damsel in distress and wade into the murky waters of big-time politics. In some respects, this is as close to a "standard" Mike Hammer mystery as you're likely to find. Had Spillane-like Stout, Christie, Gardner, and so many others-chosen to write dozens of Hammer novels rather than just a a dozen (well, a baker's dozen), dozen (well, a baker's dozen), The Snake The Snake might have been the template. Moving around Manhattan with ease, Hammer works his contacts among journalists and reestablishes a working relations.h.i.+p, if not quite his friends.h.i.+p, with Pat Chambers. Even Spillane's old enemy Anthony Boucher praised the novel's craft, calling it "certainly Mike Hammer's best case." might have been the template. Moving around Manhattan with ease, Hammer works his contacts among journalists and reestablishes a working relations.h.i.+p, if not quite his friends.h.i.+p, with Pat Chambers. Even Spillane's old enemy Anthony Boucher praised the novel's craft, calling it "certainly Mike Hammer's best case."

The ending is (as they used to say) a corker, although the ambiguous nature of what happens next-i.e., do Velda and Mike consummate their love?-remains unresolved, at least as far as Spillane was concerned. This piece of continuity bedeviled Spillane, who, post-Snake, went back and forth on whether Hammer and Velda were intimate.

Clearly Spillane intended to write another batch of books about Mike Hammer, but several things interfered. He was sidetracked for a while working as screenwriter and star of the British-American production The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters (1963). Last-minute funding problems caused the film to be shot in black-and-white, making it look shabby next to the early Bond films with which it was in direct compet.i.tion (sharing Bond girl s.h.i.+rley Eaton, who costarred in (1963). Last-minute funding problems caused the film to be shot in black-and-white, making it look shabby next to the early Bond films with which it was in direct compet.i.tion (sharing Bond girl s.h.i.+rley Eaton, who costarred in The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters and had the small but memorable golden-girl role in and had the small but memorable golden-girl role in Goldfinger Goldfinger).

Spillane received raves for his portrayal of his hero, a remarkable accomplishment-after all, it's not as though Edgar Rice Burroughs could have pulled off Tarzan onscreen, although Agatha Christie would have made a pretty fair Marple. The high concept of mystery writer playing his own detective attracted lots of media, in particular a witty Esquire Esquire magazine piece by Terry Southern. But Bond's emergence, and frankly dominance, screwed things up for Spillane-Ian Fleming, the Brit used by Signet to fill in for Spillane during "the long wait," was now on top of publis.h.i.+ng and movies. magazine piece by Terry Southern. But Bond's emergence, and frankly dominance, screwed things up for Spillane-Ian Fleming, the Brit used by Signet to fill in for Spillane during "the long wait," was now on top of publis.h.i.+ng and movies.

The Snake had been intended to be the basis for the second Spillane-as-Hammer film, and the Lolita-ish Sue was written as a role for his then wife, Broadway starlet Sherri Malinou. But had been intended to be the basis for the second Spillane-as-Hammer film, and the Lolita-ish Sue was written as a role for his then wife, Broadway starlet Sherri Malinou. But The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters didn't do well enough to justify a second film, and discouraged Spillane from focusing on his most famous character. Instead, he developed the Hammer clone Tiger Mann, a hard-boiled secret agent whose four adventures sold in the millions but did not generate TV shows or films despite the surrounding spy craze. didn't do well enough to justify a second film, and discouraged Spillane from focusing on his most famous character. Instead, he developed the Hammer clone Tiger Mann, a hard-boiled secret agent whose four adventures sold in the millions but did not generate TV shows or films despite the surrounding spy craze.

A brief aside-The Girl Hunters t.i.tle was derived from the "Girl Hunt" ballet in the cla.s.sic 1953 Fred Astaire film t.i.tle was derived from the "Girl Hunt" ballet in the cla.s.sic 1953 Fred Astaire film The Band Wagon The Band Wagon, which overtly and beautifully spoofed Spillane and Mike Hammer. This gave the mystery writer great satisfaction, because Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies were Mickey Spillane's cinema of choice.

Spillane wound up publis.h.i.+ng only four Hammer novels in the sixties, although he began a number that were set aside for various reasons; over the remainder of his career, he began and set aside even more Hammer novels that he never published. After The Snake The Snake, Spillane developed a Hammer story that pitted his hero against the drug racket in a context of the swinging sixties. But he found himself up against a deadline to Dutton and Signet for a new Hammer novel, and rather than finish what would eventually become The Big Bang The Big Bang (published in 2010 as "the lost Mike Hammer sixties novel"), he pulled down a certain old, unpublished ma.n.u.script from his shelf- (published in 2010 as "the lost Mike Hammer sixties novel"), he pulled down a certain old, unpublished ma.n.u.script from his shelf-For Whom the G.o.ds Would Destroy-and sent that instead, under the t.i.tle The Twisted Thing The Twisted Thing.

This was, of course, the rejected novel he'd written right after selling I, the Jury I, the Jury (1947) to E. P. Dutton, making it chronologically the second Mike Hammer mystery. When Signet had a huge success with the paperback reprint of (1947) to E. P. Dutton, making it chronologically the second Mike Hammer mystery. When Signet had a huge success with the paperback reprint of I, the Jury I, the Jury, however, the editor at Dutton came back to Spillane requesting For Whom the G.o.ds Would Destroy For Whom the G.o.ds Would Destroy, but (as indicated earlier) Spillane said no.

He chose to write My Gun Is Quick My Gun Is Quick (1950) instead. The response from readers to the s.e.x and violence of (1950) instead. The response from readers to the s.e.x and violence of I, the Jury I, the Jury dictated a different Mike Hammer novel to follow the first. dictated a different Mike Hammer novel to follow the first. For Whom the G.o.ds Would Destroy For Whom the G.o.ds Would Destroy went onto a shelf in the writer's upstate New York home, where the sole ma.n.u.script was nearly lost in a fire. The retrieved pages lacked only the final one, which had been burned black; Spillane wrote a replacement last page for it in 1966, though a restoration of the charred page revealed he had remembered the original ending almost word for word. went onto a shelf in the writer's upstate New York home, where the sole ma.n.u.script was nearly lost in a fire. The retrieved pages lacked only the final one, which had been burned black; Spillane wrote a replacement last page for it in 1966, though a restoration of the charred page revealed he had remembered the original ending almost word for word.

Spillane's noir universe was so timeless that very little revision was required for publication in 1966 of a novel written in 1948. A small pa.s.sage with Hammer's cop friend, Pat Chambers, makes reference to the events of The Girl Hunters The Girl Hunters and and The Snake The Snake, and The Twisted Thing The Twisted Thing fits in well with the 1960s Hammer novels, which were tough and s.e.xy but eased up on the emotional fire and extremes of violence and pa.s.sion that had made fits in well with the 1960s Hammer novels, which were tough and s.e.xy but eased up on the emotional fire and extremes of violence and pa.s.sion that had made I, the Jury I, the Jury (and the five Hammer novels that quickly followed it) such icons of controversy in the early 1950s. (and the five Hammer novels that quickly followed it) such icons of controversy in the early 1950s.

Ironically, critics-again including New York Times New York Times stalwart Anthony Boucher-greeted this "new" Hammer mystery with accolades. "I suggest," said Boucher, "that [Mike Hammer's] creator is one of the last of the great storytellers in the pulp tradition, as he amply demonstrates in stalwart Anthony Boucher-greeted this "new" Hammer mystery with accolades. "I suggest," said Boucher, "that [Mike Hammer's] creator is one of the last of the great storytellers in the pulp tradition, as he amply demonstrates in The Twisted Thing The Twisted Thing."

Boucher, in terming the novel "vintage" Spillane, didn't know how right he was-or that he was responding enthusiastically to a novel written in the very period during which the critic had been (in his words) "one of the leaders in the attacks on Spillane."

Looking at The Twisted Thing The Twisted Thing in that context, Spillane's shelving it and subst.i.tuting in that context, Spillane's shelving it and subst.i.tuting My Gun Is Quick My Gun Is Quick is easy to understand: the latter novel plays off the violence and vengeance of is easy to understand: the latter novel plays off the violence and vengeance of I, the Jury I, the Jury with s.e.xual pa.s.sages that were frank for the day, and exhibits a generally seamy, sordid feel, beginning with Hammer's encountering a friendly hooker in a diner. with s.e.xual pa.s.sages that were frank for the day, and exhibits a generally seamy, sordid feel, beginning with Hammer's encountering a friendly hooker in a diner.

The Twisted Thing, however, implies the vengeful Hammer of the first first novel was not envisioned by the writer as the Hammer of novel was not envisioned by the writer as the Hammer of all all the novels-rather, the novels-rather, I, the Jury I, the Jury appears intended to tell just that one tale of murdered-friend retribution. In appears intended to tell just that one tale of murdered-friend retribution. In The Twisted Thing The Twisted Thing there is casual s.e.x and vintage Spillane rough stuff, but the dominant theme is a father-son relations.h.i.+p between Mike Hammer and fourteen-year-old child genius Ruston York. there is casual s.e.x and vintage Spillane rough stuff, but the dominant theme is a father-son relations.h.i.+p between Mike Hammer and fourteen-year-old child genius Ruston York.

The Twisted Thing takes place in a small town where Hammer is initially involved with rescuing young Ruston from kidnappers-both Velda and Manhattan are largely absent from the novel. A tough, corrupt local cop-the evocatively named Dilwick-provides the initial conflict, but the young genius's wealthy father is soon murdered, and away Hammer goes. Hoods and a casino right out of takes place in a small town where Hammer is initially involved with rescuing young Ruston from kidnappers-both Velda and Manhattan are largely absent from the novel. A tough, corrupt local cop-the evocatively named Dilwick-provides the initial conflict, but the young genius's wealthy father is soon murdered, and away Hammer goes. Hoods and a casino right out of The Big Sleep The Big Sleep provide the toughest of tough d.i.c.ks with further fun and games, but his detective work is right out of Christie, a search for missing doc.u.ments more typical of Hercule Poirot than Mike Hammer. provide the toughest of tough d.i.c.ks with further fun and games, but his detective work is right out of Christie, a search for missing doc.u.ments more typical of Hercule Poirot than Mike Hammer.

The Girl Hunters is likely the best of the sixties Hammers, but is likely the best of the sixties Hammers, but The Twisted Thing The Twisted Thing isn't a sixties Hammer at all, but rather a late forties one. The ending, revealing the ident.i.ty of the murderer, comes in typical abrupt, shocking Spillane style, and makes a lot of sense as the second such ending Spillane wrote, a huge surprise in 1966 that still has power today. The small-town setting, the cla.s.sic pulp cast-troubled millionaire, willing wench, crooked cops, casino thugs-represent cla.s.sic pulp at its liveliest. But the father-son relations.h.i.+p at the novel's core makes isn't a sixties Hammer at all, but rather a late forties one. The ending, revealing the ident.i.ty of the murderer, comes in typical abrupt, shocking Spillane style, and makes a lot of sense as the second such ending Spillane wrote, a huge surprise in 1966 that still has power today. The small-town setting, the cla.s.sic pulp cast-troubled millionaire, willing wench, crooked cops, casino thugs-represent cla.s.sic pulp at its liveliest. But the father-son relations.h.i.+p at the novel's core makes The Twisted Thing The Twisted Thing unique among Hammer novels. unique among Hammer novels.

Mike Hammer has come to be synonymous with tough private eyes, as has Mickey Spillane with hard-boiled mystery fiction. We may not know for a certainty why Spillane withdrew Mike Hammer, temporarily, from the public stage; but reading these, you'll say it's easy to understand why that public welcomed back both Spillane and Hammer so enthusiastically.

-Max Allan Collins Summer 2010

Max Allan Collins has earned an unprecedented fifteen Private Eye Writers of America Shamus nominations, winning twice for novels in his historical Nathan h.e.l.ler series. His graphic novel has earned an unprecedented fifteen Private Eye Writers of America Shamus nominations, winning twice for novels in his historical Nathan h.e.l.ler series. His graphic novel Road to Perdition Road to Perdition is the basis of the Academy Award-winning Tom Hanks film. Shortly before Mickey Spillane's pa.s.sing, the writer asked Collins to complete various unfinished works, including the Mike Hammer novel is the basis of the Academy Award-winning Tom Hanks film. Shortly before Mickey Spillane's pa.s.sing, the writer asked Collins to complete various unfinished works, including the Mike Hammer novel The Big Bang The Big Bang (begun 1964, published 2010). Both Spillane and Collins are recipients of the Eye, the Private Eye Writers life achievement award. (begun 1964, published 2010). Both Spillane and Collins are recipients of the Eye, the Private Eye Writers life achievement award.

THE GIRL HUNTERS.

This one is for Elliott Graham who sweated more waiting for Mike than he did as a dog face waiting for us brown-shoes fly-boys to give him aerial cover.

So here we go again, E.G., with more to come.

But this one is for you.

CHAPTER 1.

They found me in the gutter. The night was the only thing I had left and not much of it at that. I heard the car stop, the doors open and shut and the two voices talking. A pair of arms jerked me to my feet and held me there.

"Drunk," the cop said.

The other one turned me around into the light. "He don't smell bad. That cut on his head didn't come from a fall either."

"Mugged?"

"Maybe."

I didn't give a d.a.m.n which way they called it. They were both wrong anyhow. Two hours ago I was drunk. Not now. Two hours ago I was a roaring lion. Then the bottle sailed across the room. No lion left now.

Now was a time when I wasn't anything. Nothing was left inside except the feeling a s.h.i.+p must have when it's torpedoed, sinks and hits bottom.

A hand twisted into my chin and lifted my face up. "Ah, the guy's a b.u.m. Somebody messed him up a little bit."

"You'll never make sergeant, son. That's a hundred-buck suit and it fits too good to be anything but his own. The dirt is fresh, not worn on."

"Okay, Daddy, let's check his wallet, see who he is and run him in."

The cop with the deep voice chuckled, patted me down and came up with my wallet. "Empty," he said.

h.e.l.l, there had been two bills in it when I started out. It must have been a pretty good night. Two hundred bucks' worth of night.

I heard the cop whistle between his teeth. "We got ourselves a real fish."

"Society boy? He don't look so good for a society boy. Not with his face. He's been splashed."

"Uh-uh. Michael Hammer, it says here on the card. He's a private jingle who gets around."

"So he gets tossed in the can and he won't get around so much."

The arm under mine hoisted me a little straighter and steered me toward the car. My feet moved; lumps on the end of a string that swung like pendulums.

"You're only joking," the cop said. "There are certain people who wouldn't like you to make such noises with your mouth."

"Like who?"

"Captain Chambers."

It was the other cop's turn to whistle.

"I told you this jingle was a fish," my pal said. "Go buzz the station. Ask what we should do with him. And use a phone-we don't want this on the air."

The cop grunted something and left. I felt hands easing me into the squad car, then shoving me upright against the seat. The hands went down and dragged my feet in, propping them against the floorboard. The door shut and the one on the other side opened. A heavy body climbed in under the wheel and a tendril of smoke drifted across my face. It made me feel a little sick.

The other cop came back and got in beside me. "The captain wants us to take him up to his house," he said. "He told me thanks."

"Good enough. A favor to a captain is like money in the bank, I always say."

"Then how come you ain't wearing plainclothes then?"

"Maybe I'm not the type, son. I'll leave it to you young guys."

The car started up. I tried to open my eyes but it took too much effort and I let them stay closed.

You can stay dead only so long. Where first there was nothing, the pieces all come drifting back together like a movie of an exploding sh.e.l.l run in reverse. The fragments come back slowly, grating together as they seek a matching part and painfully jar into place. You're whole again, finally, but the scars and the worn places are all there to remind you that once you were dead. There's life once more and, with it, a dull pain that pulsates at regular intervals, a light that's too bright to look into and sound that's more than you can stand. The flesh is weak and crawly, slack from the disuse that is the death, sensitive with the agonizing fire that is life. There's memory that makes you want to crawl back into the void but the life is too vital to let you go.

The terrible shattered feeling was inside me, the pieces having a hard time trying to come together. My throat was still raw and cottony; constricted, somehow, from the tensed-up muscles at the back of my neck.

When I looked up Pat was holding out his cigarettes to me. "Smoke?"

I shook my head.

His voice had a callous edge to it when he said, "You quit?"

"Yeah."

I felt his shrug. "When?"

"When I ran out of loot. Now knock it off."

"You had loot enough to drink with." His voice had a real dirty tone now.