The Hymie Goldman Files

Revenge of the Red Square

2011-08-08T03:08:00.001-07:00

The latest Hymie Goldman saga - entitled "Revenge of the Red Square" will be published in paperback on 1st February 2012 via Matador (price £7.99) and available in all good book stores (I can't speak for the crap ones). Also available will be the first paperback edition of "The Golden Pig" - again via Matador, price £7.99.

http://www.troubador.co.uk/book_info.asp?bookid=1635

The blurb for "Revenge of the Red Square" reads as follows:

Private investigator and defective detective extraordinaire, Hymie Goldman is back and this time he means business. Hired by a man with no face to find a man with no name, he's drawn into a vendetta between two ancient orders intent on destroying each other and the planet.

Can he find the missing magician? Is the mysterious Ruby all she seems? And will his classic motor ever make it through its MOT? These are just some of the questions he will surely never answer in the latest gripping instalment from 792A Finchley Road. A farce and furious comedy classic.

PS - whatever happened to the man with no nose (and how does he smell)? - answers on a postcard please to:

Mrs Vera Whorple,
"Sunnyside"
16A, Aberdeen Road,
Edmonton,
London
N18 2EF

A new dawn

2011-03-30T07:27:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm back. I've been in rehab for over a year but they finally let me back into my Blogger Account so I'm going to tell you about my new book. It's called....(to be decided) and the contents are hush hush but you'll like it. It makes a change from The Golden Pig anyway. It will be published in paperback on 1st February 2012 so I'll tell you more when we get closer. Needless to say, it will give Dan Brown a run for his money (actually, Dan can afford not to run anywhere these days - he has a team of flunkies to do all that). As The Golden Pig (ISBN 978-0-9559397-0-9) won the Edgar Kraputnik Award for unintelligible pulp fiction we're hoping for big things from the newbie - maybe even a St John's Ambulance Award for comatose new writing. But seriously(?!) there are rumours that the Pig itself may be resurrected in a very limited edition (i.e. 100 copies!) paperback at the same time as the sequel comes out.

Facebook? Schmacebook!

2009-02-18T15:56:00.000-08:00

Everywhere you go today you're surrounded by people on Facebook, or Twit-head or something. My advice is "Get a life,buddy!" When I was 16 I had better things to do than type crap onto a website - now I'm not so sure. The one thing that really bugs me about the internet is that it makes you feel so insignificant. Just try googling yourself (it sounds indecent actually) and you'll immediately find hundreds of other people out there with your name. This is why I changed my name to Hymie Goldman - but what do I find, some guy with the same name used to play for the Bethlehem Bears in the 1920's, another guy - with the same name - used to run the Utah Metal Works (again, in the 20's), and a third guy - with the same name!! - is trying to sell his bakeshop. Guys gimme a break - or do I have to change my name to Arvil Sledgehammer McTavish III to get any anonymity around here? Love as ever, Hymie G (the detective Goldman)

Memory loss is a terrible thing

2009-02-17T01:00:00.000-08:00

I've been meaning to update my blog for weeks now...but I forgot. Memory loss is a terrible thing. I can't even remember what I was going to say. It took me three days to remember my password to log on - me, the winner of the Best Use of New Technology 2003 in "Investigator's Weekly".
I've been Up North. It was a good move as I missed most of the snow. Once you get used to the accents it's actually rather good. I've been travelling around (Lancashire, Yorkshire and the North-East). You should see what they've done to Gateshead! The Sage is an impressive looking heap. Anyway, this isn't an update from the North-Eastern tourist board it's meant to be the diary of a top private investigator - but he left so you've got me instead.
I met the client at a well-known North-West tourist resort that was recently in the headlines due to a fire. He was a retired company director and ex-military man with a Crombie overcoat and moustache (probably false). He said he wanted me to find his brother. Didn't sound too promising - but heck, you have to take anything these days. Not every case can be a Golden Pig, now can it?

Time for a break?

2009-01-14T01:12:00.001-08:00

I'm hoping it won't be my leg. Happy New Year to my follower (or do I mean stalker?) and to anyone else who cares to drop in/by/off. January is that time of year when I always take stock of my life - having postponed it for most of the last twelve months. In my case, I'm on something of a roll (wholewheat granary, what else?) as I have determinedly avoided facing up to reality since I became a private investigator, 9 years ago. It has to be said that self-delusion is a vital skill in these days of doom and gloom. Even the redcoats at my local holiday camp (Stalag Luft 112B has nothing on this) have taken to walking around with that perennial "lost a fiver and found fifty pee" look on their faces (or is it that a fiver is only worth fifty pee to anyone trying to leave the UK - not that I would - the grass is always greener...). January is also traditionally that time of year when I pension off my old underwear - those pants which are increasingly more hole than fabric. Perhaps I can donate them to an international underpants exhibit - if I can find one. Well,I've just received a new enquiry. It involves going "Up North" but I've got me thermal underwear so it should be fine. I'm leaving for an exploratory chat within a few days. It will be good to get a break from all the final reminder letters, the hate mail from the samaritans and the post-final reminder letters.Now where did I leave that phrase book... HG

Not just a pig but a horse too

2008-12-23T05:57:00.000-08:00

You know, I started out in the detection business by trying to find a lost cat. Sadly, it all ended badly. Then, of course, there was my celebrated case of the Golden Pig - for the details of which, see the book of the same name out on January 27th 2009 through Lightning Press, but what people don't often realise is that I'm also good with horses. In the case of the Golden Pig, I ended up baby-sitting a championship racehorse called "Summer Lightning". It all ended happily ever after, although I confess there were a few mishaps along the way. Well, what do you expect from Mike Murphy?

The amazing case of the Golden Pig

2008-10-12T15:25:00.000-07:00

It all began one morning just after 9.30am. The bailiffs had been and taken away my office furniture and then I had a visit from a Venture Capitalist - whatever that is. Then the phone rang and I was invited to meet a new client at a nightclub. I arranged to go. When I got there I couldn't believe my eyes - she was a stunner. She took me back to her place and told me all about the case; I was to recover a stolen golden artefact. It was the most challenging and rewarding case I've ever had and I've put all the gory details down in a book, which I've called, simply "The Golden Pig". It's published on 27th January 2009 by Lightning Press, but you can pre-order it from amazon, waterstones or the book depository. Don't miss it.

For further details see:

http://www.pennybrothers.com

Vote Murphy - the voice of reason

2008-10-10T11:04:00.000-07:00

I've been asked to write a piece for Hymie Goldman's bog, so here it is. The name's Murphy, Mike Murphy. I used to be a bouncer at The Rainbow Rooms in North London, until I ran into Goldman again after years of happily not getting involved in his hare-brained schemes.
He got used to working with someone who knew what they were doing and offered me a partnership in his private investigations business. This was before I knew that some heavy duty villains were after him. Hymie has a rare gift for winding people up the wrong way. I suppose I've already saved his skin a few times.
Well,this is meant to be an advert for the firm - we do all the usual stuff - tracing missing persons, recovering missing property, security advice, taking photos of unfaithful partners - only better than most.The name? Goldman Confidential - we're working on it.
I used to be in the Army - The Gunners. I served in Cyprus, the Maldives...and some other places. More later. Anyway, anyone messing with Hymie also messes with me.

The wee small hours

2008-10-08T15:27:00.001-07:00

I do all my best thinking in the early hours of the morning when everyone else is asleep or clubbing. There's something about the peace that recalls the days before mobile phones and the global interconnectedness of everything - which is just bad news for Britain. Every day proves this more as global recession follows global boom (or rather, debt-fuelled self-delusion; one of my own specialisms!)
I was thinking over what I'd learnt about Johnny X (the missing darts player)and it didn't stack up, so now I have to add the case to my CGUWGP pile (can't give up - won't get paid) - which makes me sound like I do charity work, but all it means is I can't stand not knowing what happened.
So, the guy disappeared. They hadn't seen him at work. His wife hadn't seen him for days and he hadn't turned up for a key darts match at his local. What options does that give us? He's dead (accident or murder)but we have no motive, apart from his general unpleasantness (which makes him just an average guy)...or he's done a runner; UK or abroad, alone or with a bird. His wife has taken me off the case so I can't find out if he's still using his bank account/s, even if she knew herself.
Perhaps I could hack into the bank systems? Well, no...too stupid and even if I could, curiosity's not worth a jail term.
I'm meeting up with Mike (Murphy)tomorrow for a partners' meeting. He's usually got a contact or two who can really foul things up for us.

The ancient North London art of dart throwing

2008-10-07T07:18:00.000-07:00

I used to play darts regularly at 18. I never had the obligatory gut for it, but now that I have, my aim is just AWFUL. The last time I played - for the Finchley Flyers -I threw a dart into the barman's back and I was barred for months. These days I stick to more peaceful pursuits; at least they generally start out that way.

I had a call from the wife of the missing darts player last night saying she wanted me to stop looking for him. This happens a lot. I don't know if it's got anything to do with the credit crunch but since most MP's these days pass off most of the world's ills as being due to the credit crunch, who am I to argue? She asked if she could have the rest of the advance back - but I put her straight there; it costs money to track people down - even if you don't quite manage it. I wonder if she has any life insurance on the geezer. You get suspicious in my line of work - it's the same in the law - you find yourself assuming the worst about everyone - but unfortunately most of the time that's what you get.

I did some work for a horsy dame a while back. Lady Davinia H-B (I don't like to give out client names as you know, especially when they get listed in Burke's). It was a security job. At least that's what I thought - look after my racehorse Mr Goldman, blah blah. Turns out it was an insurance job. Looks like being a Burke is no guarantee of noblesse oblige.

2008-10-03T14:12:00.000-07:00

Just an everyday tale of a hardworking PI in North Finchley. Every day is a challenge; trying to find clients, socks, missing persons, missing clients, good stories for the DSS and the perfect pizza.

http://www.pennybrothers.com
Sketches courtesy of Jon Penny

On the trail of the missing darts player (2)

2008-10-02T15:33:00.000-07:00

Well, I went to the "Three Feathers" last night. Mike wasn't around (he said he was washing his hair - yeah, right!)so I went alone. I arrived at 9pm sharp. The beer was awful (perhaps it was the stuff Mike uses for his hair), still, I was buoyed up by the Gooners result against Porto. I sat there all evening like a lemon. Every time someone walked past I scrutinised their face in case they were about to impart some information on the whereabouts of the missing darts player, but time and again they were headed for the bogs or the bar. I don't know if you know the "Three Feathers", but it's a pit. A grot hole. A place only the locals or those with a taste for low life could love. I tried to look like I belonged there (no comments, please!) and left at closing time.

I was walking off down the road away from one of the most dismal evenings out in ages (to think, I missed Question Time!) when someone socked me from behind. I must have blacked out because I woke some time later aching all over and with a blinding headache. There was a note pinned to my overcoat which said, simply, "Leave it - or next time you won't be so lucky". Lucky?! Who are they kidding. I'm beginning to think that working as a PI is a mugs game. Maybe I'll apply for the vacancy as Chief Commissioner of the Met.

Energy Bill - CED.

2008-10-01T12:02:00.000-07:00

Dear Mr Goldman,

Further to our recent telephone call I write to advise you that we will not be supplying energy to your premises any longer, and that contrary to your offensive remarks I am not a fish-faced toady robbing the working man. Nor are CDE affiliated with Euro Disney or part of a Neo Nazi plot to take over the world.

I hope you enjoy your freezing grot hole this Christmas. When you condescend to pay your bills we will gladly restore your electricity.

Yours Respectfully

A. Banana
Customer Services Manager - EDC

Mavis B. Crackers

2008-10-01T11:51:00.000-07:00

Dear Hymie,

I have a most unusual case I'm hoping you can help me with. Last week I bought some brown brogues off ebay but when they arrived one was a size 5 and the other was a size 14.

I rather suspect there's a giant crime boss somewhere who's having to hop everywhere and desperately wants his shoe back. Would you be so good as to represent me in the matter? Since I am a pensioner and on a fixed income, would you consider working for a cup of tea and a rich tea biscuit?

P.S. The tea would be PG.

Your Effervescently,

Mavis

On the trail of the missing darts player (1)

2008-09-30T11:37:00.000-07:00

In this morning's post I received a shock. No, not another electricity bill from DEF energy or some other foreign mega corporation (I just send them back with "not known at this address" written on). In fact it was a set of darts with mangled fletches - the flights were almost sheared off. There was a note with them, which said "If you want to know what happened to Johnny, meet me in the "Three Feathers" at 9pm on Thursday".
This never happens to me. I've never got into a taxi and said "follow that car" - perhaps I should do, for a laugh, and I've never received a cheque when someone said "it's in the post"...so, of course, I'll have to go. Best to take Mike along. Sorry, Mike Murphy is my partner in the agency. I'm the brains of the outfit and he's the muscles - and boy, is he ever; he's got muscles in places where I haven't even got places. I'll have to see if he's available tonight. More soon. Looking good for once.

Strange case of the missing darts player

2008-09-27T06:00:00.000-07:00

I was involved in a missing persons case recently. Still am, really. The wife called me up and said she hadn't seen her partner for three days. She gave me his photo. Some women would have called her lucky. He'd been out overnight before, staying with his mates for an all night poker game or just too pissed up after a big match to crawl home. Incidentally, what happened against Hull yesterday lads? eh??!!! Not getting paid enough or something?! You know, I ran into Sir Bobby Charlton on my travels recently - what a star. He represents all that was great about British football and is now so sadly lacking. Too much money, too many foreign players and owners who don't give a damn about the British fans...I digress.
So anyway, the long and the short of it was that this guy - Mr X let's call him - although his name was Johnny T...ah, you don't catch me that easily... had been due to play for his local darts team the night before - at the Red Lion in somewhereville, and he hadn't turned up. Now this wasn't like him. He hadn't been at work for a couple of days and he hadn't taken any clean socks.
I made discreet enquiries at his place of work and at his local. No-one knew anything. I tried the local hospitals and undertakers for a John Doe. No luck. And I'm still looking. Any ideas? Ah well, time for a cuppa and a rich tea.

Guns and weapons of mass destruction

2008-09-25T04:04:00.000-07:00

I know half of America will disagree with me violently (and probably start shooting at their laptops), but following the latest episode of mass murder in darkest Finland, isn't it time we made possession of guns illegal? What other purpose is there for having a gun apart from killing someone/something? Talking as one who's been shot once before, I can tell you...it hurts! Boy, does it ever.Guys, why can't we just ditch the macho bullshit on the football field?

As a long time Arsenal supporter, I get a lot of pleasure out of the beautiful game. Not when we lose, obviously, but you have to take the rough with the smooth. I've never felt like popping out to shoot as many people as possible and never will, because I learned at my mother's bootlaces the value of perspective.And the offside rule.

So, back to the latest case. I've just been hired to recover a stolen golden artefact by this absolute babe from the East End. I haven't got much to go on yet (the toilet's out of action), just an address for her sister, but if she's as hot as the client, I won't be wasting any more time writing blogs today. More later.

Truth and Politics don't mix

2008-09-24T10:56:00.000-07:00

I make it a point never to believe politicians. You can tell when they're lying...their lips are moving. But really, how hard can it be? - laying down a bunch of laws that no-one wants and generally lording it over us all with their gold plated expense accounts and inflation/bullet-proof pensions? The worst ones are generally those in power as they feel they don't have to try any more. Mind you, I almost feel sorry for the Co-alition (almost!) - they took over such a screwed economy thanks to those Labour idiots that it would take three degrees in astro-physics to even know where to begin sorting it out. What we need is a new party - the Non-taxpayers Alliance. Anyone care to join? run it? I don't have the time myself. As a private investigator and former electrician I spend most of my life under-cover. I could do with a new disguise though - maybe I'll stand in the local council elections as an independent. I stood last time, of course. I came second from last, after the Fascist Monster Raving Monocycling party and before new Labour. I campaigned for at least half an hour on the doorsteps of North Finchley, all to no avail. Do I sound bitter? Well, I'm not, I never touch the stuff. I will try harder next time. Mind you, I was shocked at the attitudes on the doorsteps. On those rare occasions when anyone did answer the door to me, I was dismayed at all the bitching and backbiting; sweet little white-haired old ladies slagging off the post office closures and the plans for a new runway at the end of their gardens. I promised to do something about it, as you do, but they obviously didn't like the look of me. Ah well, I'll stick to less controversial matters next time... sex and religion. Or perhaps I'll tell you about my latest case. It's a cracker.

Cases old and new

2008-09-24T03:55:00.000-07:00

It's tough writing a blog. Not as tough as getting beaten about the head with a bagful of coconuts, but pretty tough. This is my first attempt, so bear with me. I'll get better at it...hopefully. I've been a private investigator since 1992 and solved numerous cases. It doesn't do to be too specific in my game. Even the number of cases solved has been changed to protect the incompetent. I do a neat line in finding missing pets. If I don't find the right one, I have a special arrangement with the girl at the local petshop; who can usually find me something similar. Most owners don't notice the difference. I did have one owner who was a bit of a nuisance mind you. Her name was Timmins...we'll call her Ma Timmins in case anyone of that name is reading (yeah, unlikely I know). Well, I tracked her pussy - let's call it Tiddles for the sake of argument - because funnily enough, that was it's name - to a beech tree down Conker Lane. What a beech tree was doing down Conker Lane, I don't know, but hey what am I, an arboriculturist or something? Anyway, I managed to borrow a ladder from one of the householders whose house backed onto C.Lane and, in a rare show of bravado, I was shinning along the branch of said beech tree when Tiddles jumped. Perhaps I didn't smell sufficiently like a pilchard or something. Anyway, I tried to grab it but it fell to its death. Very sad. So I went to see Jenny at the pet shop and she gave me what I thought was a good match (my bum and your face etc.), but old Mrs Timmins nearly blew a gasket. Anyone would have thought the ruddy cat was a member of her family or whatever. Anyhow, it all blew over. She refused to pay my bill, of course - nothing new there, I'm afraid; I could do with a debt collector, but then I probably couldn't afford one. Some time later I had the feeling someone was watching me. Perhaps she'd sent someone to put the frighteners on me - it wouldn't take much. Anyway, that's it for my first posting. Alastair McCall Smith eat your heart out! I wish I could get someone to write my blog. Or clean my bog...oh well, as we say in the business - be lucky!