Nightfall by David Goodis

First published in 1947

Vanning is hiding out in Greenwich Village. He doesn't know Fraser is watching him.  Neither does he know that two men who robbed a bank in Seattle are in New York, but he knows those men are after him. They think he has the $300,000 that was stolen from the bank. Fraser thinks Vanning might be the third robber. The evidence suggests that Vanning, using the name Dilks, met with a man named Harrison, killed him, and fled with the $300,000, cash that Harrison was supposed to launder. Yet Fraser can't wrap his head around Vanning's participation in a bank robbery, much less a murder. Vanning is a commercial artist, a former naval officer with no criminal record. Fraser doesn't want to arrest Vanning until he knows he can recover the money, but his doubts about Vanning's guilt haunt him because the evidence is probably sufficient to send Vanning to the electric chair.

When the two robbers catch up with Vanning, he claims he doesn't know where the money is. Is Vanning telling the truth? In a plot worthy of a Hitchcock movie (Nightfall was filmed but not by Hitchcock), Vanning is the traditional figure who finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Vanning is torn between his desire to go to the police and his certainty that the police will always follow the easy path. The evidence points to Vanning's guilt and Vanning knows that nothing he can say to the police will convince them otherwise -- especially given his inability to produce the $300,000 that he knows he once had. It's the missing money that makes Nightfall different from thrillers that follow the "innocent man trying to prove his innocence" formula.

This isn't David Goodis' most suspenseful novel, but the plot is intriguing. Nightfall is the kind of low key crime novel that modern authors, obsessed with martial arts and car chases, seem unable to replicate. The novel's thrills come from tension rather than action. Its focus is on psychology rather than gunplay. The story's violent moments are explosive but contained, usually related in a paragraph or two. Goodis tosses a love story into the mix that I thought was unconvincing, but that reaction was tempered by the knowledge that Vanning isn't capable of thinking clearly.

Goodis gives the gift of realism to his characters. Responding to the stress of an untenable situation, Vanning slowly comes unglued. He behaves foolishly and can't understand why. He feels himself being dragged down in "a whirlpool of defeat." He's disappointed in himself ("I can't get a practical thought in my head," he says), but as Fraser tells him, if we really knew ourselves, "we'd be adding machines instead of human beings." Frasier suffers from crippling self-doubt as he worries that Vanning has either escaped or been captured by the robbers. A small-minded robber with big plans is motivated by the desire to escape the crushing force of ordinary life. The female character, Vanning's love interest, is a bit thin, but the other primary characters have full personalities.

Noir is dark by definition, but Goodis filled his novels with the contrast of color. The interiors of apartments have paintings of orange sunsets over gray-green water hanging on sky blue walls. Goodis changes up his prose style, sometimes writing stark sentences, sometimes rambling. He tells the story in the first person but Vanning occasionally talks about himself in the third person, a symptom of his deteriorating mental status. Dialog is snappy. The resolution is satisfying, although perhaps too bright for a true noir tale. In short, although David Goodis wrote better books than Nightfall, the solid prose, tight plot, and insightful characterizations make Nightfall an enjoyable read.

RECOMMENDED

Dark Passage by David Goodis

First published in 1946

Despite his innocence, a man named Vincent Parry is convicted of murdering his wife. His fate is sealed by Madge Rapf, the woman who scorned him after he rejected her, who testifies that Parry's wife identified Parry as her killer with her dying breath. Parry escapes from San Quentin but only evades the police with the help of a stranger named Irene Janney, a mysterious woman who seems to know all about Parry and who claims to believe in his innocence. Yet much to Parry's consternation, Janney also seems to have a connection to Rapf.  Not knowing who to trust, Parry seeks out the help of his best friend, but nothing comes easily for Parry. Another murder occurs and Parry is blamed. If Parry isn't the killer, who is? Before he can find out, he becomes the victim of a blackmail scheme.

Improbable events are a constant in Parry's life from the moment he leaves San Quentin. His life seems filled with coincidence yet he knows there is a limit to coincidence. "Maybe there's a certain arrangement to things," Parry says as the novel nears its end, just after he pieces the puzzle together, "and even if it takes a long time it finally has to work itself out." Parry is talking about fate but he might as well be talking about the plot. By the end of the novel, the reader realizes that David Goodis has spun an intricate story that, except in some minor respects, isn't dependent upon coincidence. The story passes the credibility test at every turn, and there are plenty of turns. The solution to the whodunit isn't surprising, but neither is it strained, as is so often true of modern mysteries. Was I convinced that the motivations advanced in the novel would have actually resulted in the murders? Not entirely, but people behave in surprising ways, so I'm willing to give Goodis the benefit of the doubt.

Goodis uses straightforward prose and a variety of styles to tell the story. The novel has a seductive rhythm. Words and phrases are repeated throughout the text. Colors swirl through the narrative -- yellow hair, a yellow robe, the hot yellow sun. The color orange becomes an important clue to a killer's identity. At one point Parry has a surrealistic conversation with a corpse. One of the novel's best passages alternates Parry's fantasies about living in Peru with his inescapable thoughts about the murders. During action scenes, particularly life-and-death struggles, Goodis uses run-on sentences to convey the urgency of the situation and Parry's inability to pause for thought. Reading the newspaper triggers stream of consciousness memories of Parry's married life. Other parts of the novel contrast the mundane lives surrounding Parry with Parry's extraordinary life. And every now and then Goodis writes something wonderful, like "She had eyes the color of an old telegraph pole."

The detailed descriptions of the characters and their actions -- a panicky woman squeezes a chocolate candy until "butter cream came gushing out between her fingers," a mess she can't wipe clean without making a bigger mess -- make Dark Passage more notable for its psychological portraits than for its plot. The ending, however, is pure noir, and a fitting conclusion to the dark story.

RECOMMENDED