Hard Freeze

A child rapist / murderer, unimaginably intelligent, who uses his intelligence, not to take down pendejo elite who make the world into a fascism, but to take on aliases, with power, to help him rape and murder even more teenage girls. That's who this story is about.
Joe Kurtz, an ex PI, ex military, is taking him on. Joe Kurtz is also extremely intelligent, and extremely dangerous. You'd never think he'd be able to get out of the straits he's in, in this story, but he does it!
I like the ending, for all the violence done to the bodies. It's not what you think.

Frears, a world famous violinist, who is dying of cancer, and whose daughter was raped and murdered by the violent criminal in this story, explains to joe Kurtz what he has learned show more from Lawrence kohlberg, the philosopher who had a theory that human beings passed through stages of moral development, just as they have to pass through Jean Piaget's stages of development.
" 'Level one was simple avoidance of punishment. Moral boundaries are set only to avoid pain. ...Level 2 was a crude form of moral judgment motivated by the need to satisfy one's own desires. ...Level 3 was sometimes called the good boy / good girl orientation -- a need to avoid rejection or the disapproval of others. ...Stage 4 was the law and order level. People had evolved to the moral degree that they had an absolute imperative not to be criticized by a duly recognized authority figure. Sometimes entire national populations appear to be made up of stage 4 and lower citizens.'
'Nazi germany,' said kurtz.
'Exactly. Stage 5 individuals seem motivated by an overwhelming need to respect the social order and to uphold legally determined laws. The law becomes a touchstone, a moral imperative unto itself.'
'ACLU type who allow the Nazis to march in skokie,' said kurtz. 'is stage 5 the top floor?' Asked kurtz.
Frear shook his head. 'Not according to the research that professors KohlBerg and Frederick were carrying out. A level 6 individual makes his moral decisions based on his own conscience and attempts to resonate with certain universal ethical considerations.. even when those decisions fly in the face of existing laws. Say, Henry Davidson Thoreau's opposition to the war with mexico, or the civil Rights Marchers in the south in the 1960s. Professor Frederick used to say that the United States was founded by level 6 minds,' said frears, 'protected and preserved by level fives, and populated by level fours and below. Does this make any sense, Mr kurtz?'
'Sure. But it hasn't done a damned thing towards telling me why you left juilliard and went to the Vietnam war.'
Frears smiled. 'At the time, this idea of moral development was very important to me, Mr kurtz. Lawrence Kohlberg's dream was to find a level 7 personality.
'who would that be?' said kurtz. 'Jesus christ?'
'precisely,' frears said with no hint of irony. ' or Gandhi. Or socrates. Or buddha. Someone who can only respond to universal ethical imperatives. They have no choice in the matter. Usually the rest of us respond by putting them to death.'
'hemlock,' said kurtz. Pruno had made Plato's dialogues required reading for him in attica.
'Yes.' frears set his long, elegant fingers on the metal briefcase. 'Lawrence kohlberg never found a stage 7 personality. but he did find something else, Mr kurtz. His testing showed that there were many people walking the street who can only be classified as level zeros. Their moral development has not even evolved to the point where they will avoid pain and punishment if their whim dictates otherwise. Other human beings' sufferings means absolutely nothing to them. The clinical term is "sociopath," but the real word is "monster." ' "[The premier imperialist's rulers.]

And here's the part that's violent that I liked. The level zero, Hanson, child rapist/murderer, gets his comeuppance. And it's not even Joe Kurtz who does it:
"100 yards away through blowing snow, snug in the driver's seat of the Cadillac suv, Hansen heard none of this. He turned the ignition, heard the V8 roar to life, set the heater to maximum, and flipped on the halogen headlights.
He had just raised his hand to the gear shift when there came a soft tik-tik and 32 lbs of C4 explosive rigged under the floorboards, in the engine compartment, behind the dash, and especially carefully around the 40 gallon fuel tank, exploded in tight sequence.
The first wad of explosive blew off Hansen's feet just above the ankles. The second batch of C4 blew the hood 100 ft into the air and sent the windshield flying. The main packet ignited the fuel tank and lifted the two and a half ton vehicle 5 ft into the air before the SUV dropped back onto burning tires. The interior of the Cadillac immediately filled with a fuel-air mixture of burning gasoline.
Hansen was alive. Even as he breathed flames, he thought, I'm alive!
He tried the door but it was buckled and jammed. the passenger seat was twisted forward and on fire. Hansen himself was on fire. The wood and polymer steering wheel was melting in his hands.
Not knowing yet that his feet were gone, Hansen lurched forward and clawed at the dashboard, pulling himself through the jagged hole where the windshield had been.
The hood was gone; the engine compartment was a well of flames.
Hansen did not stop. Reaching up and over with hands of molten flesh, he grabbed the optional roof rack of the Cadillac and pulled his charred and burning legs out of the wreck, twisting free of the interior, dropping himself away from the Flaming mass of metal.
His hair was on fire. His face was on fire. Hansen rolled in the deep snow, smothering the flames, screaming in agony.
He crawled on his smoking elbows farther from the wreck, rolling on his back, trying to breathe through the pain in his lungs. He could see everything clearly, not knowing that his eyelids had fused with his brow and could not be closed. Hansen held his hands in front of his face. they hurt. He saw in a surge of disbelief bordering on a weird joy that his fingers had bloated like hot dogs left too long on the charcoal grill and then burst and melted. He saw white bone against the black sky. The flames illuminated everything in a 60-yard radius.
Hansen tried to scream for help but his lungs were two sacks of carbon."

See what I mean? Now imagine that happening to the rulers of the Imperial power. Laugh out loud. show less

My enjoyments and complaints about the first book in the series make a return here. This world is too clean, not enough noir style thrown into the descriptions. Joe remains, however, an interesting character to follow around.

He disposes of his would-be assassins too easily. Perhaps that is just a statement of Joe's talent. But it tended to feel like not enough effort or risk on his part.

I liked how Joe was looking in on Sam's daughter. I expected some of Arlene's observations on this. I had a hard time swallowing that the girl's dad was so stupid as to harm the girl, in multiple ways, AFTER Joe warned him and how he knows what lengths Joe will go to, making things right. Okay, after saying all that, I did like the way Joe takes care of show more the dad.

I very much enjoyed the serial-killer twist thrown into this one. I also enjoyed the parallel action of the killer trying to get at Joe while Joe tries to expose the killer.

I rate the story up a notch because of this tremendous complication that Simmons handles quite well. Then I rate the story back down because the ending crashes together too suddenly. I especially didn't like the whole mafia resolution happening with Joe off-stage. There was another 1/4 to 1/2 book worth of live-action resolution that comes across more like a newspaper story at the end.

As before, I want more grit, emotion, and tragedy in my noir. Somehow Simmons' story comes across a little too clean. In this one he got into the mind of a serial killer quite nicely but I felt let down by everyone's neutral reaction to his trophy photos. I didn't sense enough outrage from any of the characters.

I am certainly going to read the next book but the bar has been set at just a 'three star' level, not expecting noir greatness and the gut-twisting truths we got from James Ellroy's Los Angeles trilogy. show less

This was a decent hard-boiled mystery story. It is very action driven. There are no clear good guys and bad guys just action everywhere. Joe Kurtz is blunt and gets the job done with a ton of collateral damage. I didn't like any of the characters, but the story definitely kept my attention from start to finish.

This novel is part of a series of three books from the "Joe Kurtz" series. It has been many years since i have read the series so i am not going to do a in-depth review. I did however want to let other readers now that it is fantastic and that they really should give it a turn. I do not think you will be disappointed. Pleas give it a shot and hold on for a exciting and thoughtful ride.

Very enjoyable!

Pequeño Jaco Farino, el último patriarca de una familia de la mafia, quiere muerto a Kurtz y está mandando a pelotones de asesinos a sueldo a por él. La bella Angelina Farino, hermana de Pequeño Jaco, ha vuelto de Sicilia y también tiene sus propios y mortíferos planes para el detective. Por si eso fuera poco, un violinista moribundo le pide a Kurtz que encuentre al asesino de su hija. Al principio rechaza el caso, pero pronto se encuentra tras la pista de un hombre que no es solo autor de la muerte de una niña, sino un despiadado asesino en serie; un maestro del cambio de identidad con el poder suficiente para enviar cien hombres a la caza del duro detective.

Very funny book. Extremely likable characters. Fast paced plot. Could.Not.Put.It.Down.

Typical Simmons!