The hot kid

Review by Booklist Review

The Hot Kid is part-Cuban, part-Indian Carlos Webster, who inadvertently gets his start in law enforcement at age 15 when he shoots a cattle thief. The investigating U.S. marshal thinks Carlos has potential and tells the kid to give him a call in five or six years. Carlos does and becomes Carl, though the next guy he shoots is a bank robber who once called him a "greaser." Carl Webster thrills the public with his soon-to-be signature line, "If I have to pull my weapon I'll shoot to kill." He's so cool he doesn't even know he's saying it--or does he? This Dust Bowl-era Okie ambler captures the era of Pretty Boy Floyd, Bonnie and Clyde, and John Dillinger with a slow-simmering feud between Webster and Jack Belmont, a pea-brained oil scion who wants to be a most-wanted outlaw. Trailing them both is Tony Antonelli, a journalist with a knack for turning gunfights into heroic battles. As always, Leonard's prose seems effortless, his dialogue is perfect, and his humor is as dry as a moonshine martini. If there's anything that keeps The Hot Kid 0 from catching fire, it might be that the Hot Kid is a little too hot. Sure, this is all about mythmaking, but if Webster's socks smelled more of clay, he'd be on more equal footing with the bad guys, making the conclusion a bit less foregone. Still, a terrific pleasure. --Keir Graff Copyright 2005 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Leonard's 40th novel, set in the world of 1930s gangsters and gun molls, features characterizations so deft and true you can smell the hair oil on the dudes and the perfume on the dames. Young Carlos Webster tangles with his first gangster at 15, when bank robber Emmet Long robs an Okmulgee, Okla., store, kills an Indian policeman and takes away Carlos's ice cream cone. Seven years later, Carlos, now Carl, a newly minted deputy U.S. marshal, gets his revenge by gunning Long down, an act that wins him the respect of his employers and the adulation of the American public, who follow his every quick-draw exploit in the papers and True Detective magazine. Cinematically, Leonard introduces his characters-Carl's colorful pecan-farmer father, Virgil; Jack Belmont, ne'er-do-well son of a rich oilman; True Detective writer Tony Antonelli; Louly Brown, whose cousin marries Pretty Boy Floyd-in small, self-contained scenes. As the novel moves forward, these characters and others begin to interact, forming liaisons both romantic and criminal. At the stirring conclusion, scores are settled and the good and the bad get sorted out in satisfactorily violent fashion. The writing is pitch-perfect throughout: "It was his son's quiet tone that made Virgil realize, My Lord, but this boy's got a hard bark on him." The setting and tone fall somewhere between Leonard's early westerns and his more recent crime novels, but it's all pure Leonard, and that means it's pure terrific. Agent, Andrew Wiley. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by Library Journal Review

Leonard's encyclopedic knowledge of crime history and wry humor make his novels reading experiences to savor. His latest is no exception, pitting two bright, gutsy young men against each other in a deadly cat-and-mouse game. In the fall of 1921, 15-year-old Carlos Webster witnesses Emmett Long rob Deering's drugstore in Okmulgee, OK, and shoot Junior Harjo, just for being there. Ten years later, Carlos is a rising star among the U.S. marshals, with eight notches on his gun, including one for Emmett Long. Jack Belmont, the ne'er-do-well son of an oil baron, has one ambition-to become Public Enemy Number One-and lives life accordingly. Many of his schemes are hare-brained and misfire; some, like the massacre of seven Ku Klux Klansmen, have redeeming value; others, like the murder of his sidekick, Norm, can't be proved. When Jack challenges Carlos, and the two draw beads on each other, it is only a matter of time before one lies dead in the dirt. Leonard's 40th novel is a winner in the tradition of Get Shorty and Be Cool. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 1/05.]-Thomas L. Kilpatrick, Southern Illinois Univ. Lib., Carbondale (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Review by Kirkus Book Review

Leonard's 40th novel sweetly revisits the Depression, when every Oklahoma kid dreamed of growing up to be a lawman or a gangster. The hot kid is Carl (nÉ Carlos) Webster, a young U.S. marshal out of Tulsa with so much fire in his belly that some folks wonder if he actually enjoys killing bad guys. But the sobriquet could apply just as easily to Jack Belmont, a wildcat oilman's son whose idea of a good time is raping an underaged girl, blackmailing his father about Nancy Polis, the mistress he's keeping in Sapulpa, and kidnapping Nancy when the old man brushes off the extortion attempt. Or even to Tony Antonelli, an Okmulgee reporter who finds his true calling when he shakes the facts from his feet and goes to work for True Detective Mystery determined to chronicle the adventures of Carl and Jack. The antagonists oblige by tangling again and again over a period from 1927 to 1934, swapping women, preening remarks, schemes and occasionally bullets. Along the way, there are bloody tangles with bank robbers, soiled law-enforcers, Klansmen, Kansas City ward-heelers, and aspiring gun molls like Louly Brown as wholehearted in their auditions as if they were aiming for Hollywood stardom--as in a sense they are. Although the body count is high, Carl and Jack emerge from each encounter as unscathed as Kabuki warriors, ready each time for a rematch for which they're more motivated than ever. Their persistent efforts to turn themselves into mythic heroes in the manner of Pretty Boy Floyd, the talismanic celebrity gangster forever just out of Louly's reach, echoes Bonnie and Clyde. But Leonard's sly take on the price of notoriety is a lot more genial and laid-back. The whole sepia-toned caravan, in fact, is so relaxed that even the most violent felonies may leave you smiling. Leonard's gentle epic is as restorative as a month in the country. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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The Hot Kid Chapter One Carlos Webster was fifteen the day he witnessed the robbery and killing at Deering's drugstore. This was in the fall of 1921 in Okmulgee, Oklahoma. He told Bud Maddox, the Okmulgee chief of police, he had driven a load of cows up to the yard at Tulsa and by the time he got back it was dark. He said he left the truck and stock trailer across the street from Deering's and went inside to get an ice cream cone. When he identified one of the robbers as Emmett Long, Bud Maddox said, "Son, Emmett Long robs banks, he don't bother with drugstores no more." Carlos had been raised on hard work and respect for his elders. He said, "I could be wrong," knowing he wasn't. They brought him over to police headquarters in the courthouse to look at photos. He pointed to Emmett Long staring at him from a $500 wanted bulletin and picked the other one, Jim Ray Monks, from mug shots. Bud Maddox said, "You're positive, huh?" and asked Carlos which one was it shot the Indian. Meaning Junior Harjo with the tribal police, who'd walked in not knowing the store was being robbed. "Was Emmett Long shot him," Carlos said, "with a forty-five Colt." "You sure it was a Colt?" "Navy issue, like my dad's." "I'm teasing," Bud Maddox said. He and Carlos' dad, Virgil Webster, were buddies, both having fought in the Spanish-American War and for a number of years were the local heroes. But now doughboys were back from France telling about the Great War over there. "If you like to know what I think happened," Carlos said, "Emmett Long only came in for a pack of smokes." Bud Maddox stopped him. "Tell it from the time you got there." Okay, well, the reason was to get an ice cream cone. "Mr. Deering was in back doing prescriptions -- he looked out of that little window and told me to help myself. So I went over to the soda fountain and scooped up a double dip of peach on a sugar cone and went to the cigar counter and left a nickel by the cash register. That's where I was when I see these two men come in wearing suits and hats I thought at first were salesmen. Mr. Deering calls to me to wait on them as I know the store pretty well. Emmett Long comes up to the counter -- " "You knew right away who he was?" "Once he was close, yes sir, from pictures of him in the paper. He said to give him a deck of Luckies. I did and he picks up the nickel I'd left by the register. Hands it to me and says, 'This ought to cover it.' " "You tell him it was yours?" "No sir." "Or a pack of Luckies cost fifteen cents?" "I didn't say a word to him. But see, I think that's when he got the idea of robbing the store, the cash register sitting there, nobody around but me holding my ice cream cone. Mr. Deering never came out from the back. The other one, Jim Ray Monks, wanted a tube of Unguentine, he said for a heat rash was bothering him, under his arms. I got it for him and he didn't pay either. Then Emmett Long says, 'Let's see what you have in the register.' I told him I didn't know how to open it as I didn't work there. He leans over the counter and points to a key -- the man knows his cash registers -- and says, 'That one right there. Hit it and she'll open for you.' I press the key -- Mr. Deering must've heard it ring open, he calls from the back of the store, 'Carlos, you able to help them out?' Emmett Long raised his voice saying, 'Carlos is doing fine,' using my name. He told me then to take out the scrip but leave the change." "How much did he get?" "No more'n thirty dollars," Carlos said. He took his time thinking about what happened right after, starting with Emmett Long looking at his ice cream cone. Carlos saw it as personal, something between him and the famous bank robber, so he skipped over it, telling Bud Maddox: "I put the money on the counter for him, mostly singles. I look up -- " "Junior Harjo walks in," Bud Maddox said, "a robbery in progress." "Yes sir, but Junior doesn't know it. Emmett Long's at the counter with his back to him. Jim Ray Monks is over at the soda fountain getting into the ice cream. Neither of them had their guns out, so I doubt Junior saw it as a robbery. But Mr. Deering sees Junior and calls out he's got his mother's medicine. Then says for all of us to hear, 'She tells me they got you raiding Indian stills, looking for moonshine.' He said something about Junior setting a jar aside for him and that's all I heard. Now the guns are coming out, Emmett Long's Colt from inside his suit . . . I guess all he had to see was Junior's badge and his sidearm, that was enough, Emmett Long shot him. He'd know with that Colt one round would do the job, but he stepped up and shot Junior again, lying on the floor." There was a silence. "I'm trying to recall," Bud Maddox said, "how many Emmett Long's killed. I believe six, half of 'em police officers." "Seven," Carlos said, "you count the bank hostage had to stand on his running board. Fell off and broke her neck?" "I just read the report on that one," Bud Maddox said. "Was a Dodge Touring, same as Black Jack Pershing's staff car over in France." "They drove away from the drugstore in a Packard," Carlos said, and gave Bud Maddox the number on the license plate. The Hot Kid . Copyright © by Elmore Leonard. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from The Hot Kid by Elmore Leonard All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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