Overview
When a Turkish laborer is stabbed to death in Frankfurt's red light district, the local polcie see no need to work overtime. But when the laborer's wife comes to him for help, wise-cracking detective Kemal Kayankaya, a Turkish immigrant himself, smells a rat. The dead man wasn't the kind of guy who spent time with prostitutes. What gives? The deeper he digs, the more Kayankaya finds that the vitim was a good guy, a poor immigrant just trying to look out for his family. So who wanted him dead, and why? On the way to find out, Kayankaya has run-ins with prostitutes and drug addicts, gets beaten up by anonymous thugs, survives a gas attack, and suffers several close encounters with a Fiat.
And then there's the police cover-up he stumbles upon ...
Synopsis
When a Turkish laborer is stabbed to death in Frankfurt's red light district, the local polcie see no need to work overtime. But when the laborer's wife comes to him for help, wise-cracking detective Kemal Kayankaya, a Turkish immigrant himself, smells a rat. The dead man wasn't the kind of guy who spent time with prostitutes. What gives? The deeper he digs, the more Kayankaya finds that the vitim was a good guy, a poor immigrant just trying to look out for his family. So who wanted him dead, and why? On the way to find out, Kayankaya has run-ins with prostitutes and drug addicts, gets beaten up by anonymous thugs, survives a gas attack, and suffers several close encounters with a Fiat.
And then there's the police cover-up he stumbles upon ...
Publishers Weekly
Like many a translated European crime novel, this American edition comes with overblown references to Chandler and Hammett and is replete with idiosyncratic prose stylings that, whether deliberate or artifacts of the translation from the German, serve to perplex rather than illuminate. Ahmed Hamul was a Turkish laborer stabbed to death in Frankfurt and suspected by his family of being a heroin dealer. Kemal Kayankaya is the shamus, born in Turkey but raised in Germany, hired by the victim's wife to find the truth about the killing. Arjouni leads his readers through the dark center of early-'80s Frankfurt with its strippers, hookers and ersatz Americana in the shape of fried chicken and cheeseburgers. The language, while briskly utilized, is often stretched (a refrigerator resembles a pack of cigarettes beside the large body of a barmaid) and every genre cliche about the hard-drinking, smart-mouthed gumshoe is shamelessly overemployed. Frankfurt might as well be Pittsburgh, and Kayankaya a TV creation. (Oct.)