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Hard-drinking retired detective Nick Charles is pulled reluctantly into a case involving an old client, eccentric inventor Clyde Wynant who appears to have shot his assistant Julia. Despite wanting nothing to do with it, he uncovers a tangled web of deception and connections, including the fact that Wynant’s ex-wife’s new husband is actually Wynant’s bitter ex-partner in disguise, out to get Wynant’s money, and that Julia seems to have had a number of boyfriends in the underworld, as well as being romantically involved with Wynant.

This is a slightly darker story than the excellent movie � Nick still quips playfully with his wife, and they drink constantly, but Hammett’s Nick is a sight grimmer and gruffer than the debonair, easygoing fellow portrayed by William Powell. In any case, it’s a truly excellent novel, at least as good as The Maltese Falcon if not his very best. There’s a truly intricate but understandable puzzle, made all the more interesting by every character’s own motives and madness � Wynant’s ex wanting to cast suspicion on him, then avenge herself on her new husband for using her, for example, or Julia’s involvement with other men which disrupts the killer’s master plan. Snappy dialogue, tough action, a variety of idiosyncratic characters, and a whole barrel of red herrings make for a wonderful light detective story.