'Death Claims' by Joseph Hansen
- Reed
- May 8
- 2 min read
A Dave Brandstetter Mystery (Book No. 2)
Author: Joseph Hansen
Rating: A-
Vibe: Moody California noir with emotional restraint, layered secrets, and gay lives woven unapologetically into every thread.
Quick Take: Smart, unsentimental, and quietly daring—this is crime fiction that does more than solve a mystery; it reframes who gets to be at the center of one.
If Fadeout was the opening act—a quietly radical introduction to a new kind of detective—then Death Claims sharpens the silhouette. The second book in Joseph Hansen’s Dave Brandstetter series feels like a clear continuation, but one that hits just a little harder. The mystery is tighter, the pacing more assured, and the emotional undercurrent is, if anything, more compelling in its restraint.
This time, Dave is investigating the apparent drowning of John Oats, a rare book dealer whose insurance claim doesn’t quite add up. And while that premise might sound niche, the plot unfolds with a satisfying churn of reveals and redirections. It’s not flashy, but it is layered—each twist pulling you deeper without ever losing control of tone or plausibility. Hansen knows exactly what kind of book he’s writing.
What’s remarkable, again, is how grounded Dave remains. He’s still mourning Rod, but rather than dwelling on it in melodrama, he mostly avoids the grief altogether—just as you’d expect from a hardboiled investigator trying to keep his edges sharp. That avoidance isn’t a flaw in the character; it is the character. And yet, even as he keeps his grief tucked away, Hansen allows glimmers of emotional movement. Dave’s tentative connection with Doug feels more like a shadow than a romance so far, but it’s there. Whether it becomes something fuller remains to be seen—but I’m invested.
One of the book’s most striking qualities—especially given that it was published in 1973—is how full of gay people it is. Not just Dave. Not just passing references. The plot itself centers gay lives, gay relationships, and gay complications. And it doesn’t treat them like plot twists or tragic secrets. Hansen writes as if this is just the world—and that feels both revolutionary and refreshingly matter-of-fact. Even now, there are contemporary authors who fumble what Hansen handled fifty years ago with such grace and confidence.
If Fadeout broke ground, Death Claims builds on it. Sharper, more assured, and no less emotionally resonant, it’s a second act that deepens the series without overplaying its hand. The Brandstetter books don’t scream their importance—but they don’t have to.
