Philip Kerr. March Violets. 1989.

Up until the gang anal rape double murder scene, I thought this book was pretty damn slick. But after that numbing introduction to (and conclusion of) a central female character, I was no longer concerned with the nuances of the mystery. Perhaps this violence was meant as a commentary on Nazi Germany, but I can't avoid the feeling that it has more to do with the whims of the author than those of the Nazis.

But anyway, this novel sets Philip Marlowe in the Third Reich. It seems to be well researched and gives as vivid an impression of the sagging spirit of Berlin in the early Reich as any history text I have so far read, providing insight on how an intelligent country can obey the warmongering will of a despotic leader it doesn't respect. In case living in America in 2005 doesn’t provide enough insight. The similes are Chandler-quality, the tough and cynical narration is perfect, Himmler and Goering make appearances, and the mystery is serviceable. The aforementioned grisly finale precedes a concentration camp coda, which should have been the most horrifying part of the book, but was pleasant compared to the gang anal rape double murder thing. I don't know if I'll read the rest of the Berlin Noir Trilogy after all, but I did read the first part of this book twice, I found it so perfect.