JIM HANVEY, DETECTIVE

Seven adventures, first collected in 1923, of the world’s most unprepossessing detective.

As Leslie S. Klinger’s introduction makes clear, Cohen (1891-1957) doesn’t present much more mystery in his stories than the long-running TV series Columbo does, for the criminals are known from the beginning in every instance. In fact, Jim Hanvey—a homely, sleepy-eyed hick—isn’t so much a crime solver as a crime preventer whose caseload minimizes violent crimes against persons in favor of crimes against property: confidence games, fraud, grand larceny. The formula is consistent: Hanvey is set against some thief or trickster who instantly recognizes him as the country’s greatest detective but is convinced he can be outwitted this time. “I never lie to a crook,” Hanvey guilelessly tells one client. “It ain’t fair.” Oftentimes, the crooks don’t lie to him either—at least not in private. The results of their slow-motion mental duels are less whodunits than cat-and-cat tales in which the predators circle each other with placid self-assurance. Although Hanvey drolly underplots the bank robbers in “Fish Eyes,” he’s a step ahead of the jewel thief in “Homespun Silk,” the securities thief in “Common Stock,” and the swindling suitors in “Caveat Emptor” and “The Knight’s Gambit.” When the gang of robbers in “Helen of Troy N.Y.” and the fence passing himself off as a wealthy socialite in “Pink Bait” try their hands at more elaborate plots, the stories are more complicated but no more entertaining, for their enduring appeal lies in the simple pleasures of watching the underdog outwit a succession of mostly veteran thieves who should really know better.

Modestly but genuinely amusing.