The sound and the fury…
On a dark night in Pennsylvania, a jazz legend met his death. But now, in the heat and light of Las Vegas, the sound of Clifford Brown’s soaring trumpet is coming back to life. Because a man named Evan Horne, who knows all about jazz and pain, is unraveling a puzzle that reaches back forty years to Brown’s last hours—and that has already gotten one person killed.
Horne was called to Las Vegas to authenticate some recordings purported to be the lost tapes of Clifford Brown. But when a murder interrupts his listening session, Horne becomes the key player in a dangerous duet. Carrying a worn old trumpet that may have belonged to Clifford Brown himself, Horne is pursuing the truth behind an audiotape that may be worth a fortune, may be a hoax, and may be just one haunting melody in a killer’s murderous obsession...
Praise for THE SOUND OF THE TRUMPET:
“Well written, plausible, and down to earth; recommended.” —Library Journal
“Fascinating insider information on various aspects of the jazz world. A must for jazz fans, who will appreciate Moody’s grasp of the music.” —Booklist
“When Bill Moody writes about dead jazz musicians, you can hear the blue notes bouncing off the walls.” —The New York Times Book Review
“Moody writes beautifully…a gallery of colorful figures…distinctively pleasurable.” —Publishers Weekly
“For a lively trip into the…world of jazz musicians, and murder, there’s no better guide than Bill Moody.” —Tony Hillerman, author of the Leaphorn and Chee mysteries
Moody (Death of a Tenor Man) has been justly praised for his ability to transform the excitement of jazz into words. Himself a jazz drummer and deejay, Moody writes beautifully about music, as when he describes a vibes player in a Las Vegas lounge: "He brushes over the chord changes like a runner circling the bases after hitting a triple, carefully touching each base but veering outside the base path." But the mystery in his third book about piano player and snooper Evan Horne is very thin, and Moody's decision to tell it in the present tense is quickly irritating and occasionally confusing. Horne--still recovering from a hand injury and trying to sort out various aspects of his personal life--goes to Las Vegas to help out a friend by verifying the authenticity of some tapes supposedly made by the legendary trumpet ace Clifford Brown just before his death in a 1956 auto crash. But things quickly go wrong. The man who owns the tapes is killed, Horne winds up with an old trumpet that might be Brown's, and a mysterious (and highly unlikely) collector named Cross is tabbed as the killer. Moody uses his musical knowledge to introduce a gallery of colorful figures to support the moderately interesting Horne and delivers a distinctively pleasurable, if not especially compelling, mystery.