RIDE THE PINK HORSE

Otto Penzler’s reprintings of Hughes’ suspense novels continue with her ninth, originally published in 1946.

The man whom everyone, including himself, calls Sailor has traveled from Chicago to Santa Fe in pursuit of former Sen. Willis Douglass. During the Sen’s tenure, Sailor was officially billed as his private secretary, but it’s clear that he was also his bagman, fixer, and whatever else. He’s followed the Sen to Santa Fe to demand money due him for services rendered in the shooting of Eleanor Douglass, the Sen’s well-insured wife. Sailor’s already been paid $500, but he thinks he’s due $1,000 more. Unfortunately for him, there are several bumps in the road. He’s not the only one with his eye on the quarry: McIntyre, the chief of Chicago Homicide, is also in town. The Sen, who’s already moved on to the companionship of society heiress Iris Towers, naturally denies owing his ex-employee any more money. And his visit coincides with the three days of Fiesta, during which there isn’t a hotel room, and scarcely a bathroom, to be had in town. Sailor’s befriended by a group of locals who range from Don José Patricio Santiago Morales y Cortez, the carousel operator Sailor dubs Pancho Villa, to a gaggle of schoolchildren whose hard childhoods remind him inescapably of his own earliest memories, very different but equally troubled. Hughes (1904-1993) burrows deep into her antihero’s mind and stays there, with conversations and pivotal events mostly erupting as breaks in his stream of consciousness. The effect is gripping and oddly touching.

An unforgettable portrait of a hireling who dreams of making it big even though he knows he’s no good.