Donald Goines, a name that resonates with authenticity and grit in the realm of crime fiction, first caught my attention during a discussion about the genre in the Luke Cage series. Mentioned alongside literary giants like Chester Himes and Walter Mosley, Goines sparked my curiosity. Venturing into his Kenyatta series, starting with the first two books, I was immediately struck by the sheer force of his narrative. While his prose might not possess the elaborate style of some of his more celebrated contemporaries, Goines commands a potent, visceral power in his storytelling. This month, we delve into Goines’ Kenyatta saga, beginning with Crime Partners, a novel initially published under his pseudonym, Al C. Clark.
Crime Partners is nothing short of a literary punch to the gut. It’s a stark and unsettling narrative that plunges into the depths of loneliness, the intoxicating allure of power, and the complex dynamics of partnership within a criminal world.
The story centers around Jackie and Billy Good, two streetwise hustlers operating in Detroit’s underbelly. Initially, they are small-time criminals, preying on drug addicts to make a living. However, their ambitions stretch far beyond petty theft. They crave to ascend the criminal ladder, to become significant players in the game. This ambition necessitates bigger scores and greater influence. Seeking the resources to execute a larger heist – specifically targeting a food stamp bank – they find themselves seeking an alliance with Kenyatta, a formidable figure in Detroit’s criminal hierarchy. Kenyatta isn’t just a supplier of weaponry; he embodies something far more profound and dangerous. He possesses a distinct philosophy that sets him apart from the typical gangsters, corrupt police officers, and drug dealers populating the city.
Kenyatta shook his head. “Don’t think I’m a fool, brother, ’cause I ain’t. I’ve got twenty-five men, plus fifteen women who are in our organization, and every one of them is dedicated, so I ain’t foolin’ myself. My people are trained, and every one of them has one thought in their mind. Kill the honkie. That’s our rally cry. Death to Whitey.”
As he spoke, his voice rose with the power of his conviction. Jackie thought to himself that this brother is mad. He’s stone crazy; he believes every fuckin’ thing he’s saying. Here was no doubt in either man’s mind of that. Kenyatta was serious about everything he said. The thought of him having over forty people believing in him was crazy in itself. That many people following in his path would give a madman quite a bit of power.
Kenyatta leaned over his desk, staring at the men in front of him. His eyes were lit up with an unholy glow that burned too brightly. There was madness there, yet the fire that burned there was also the mark of the strong man, a leader, the kind of man the people could follow with complete trust. “It can be done!” he stated, pounding on the desk to get his point across. “It can be done, and it will be done. This city will be rid of dope pushers and race hatin’ cops. You can bet on it.” (48-49)
Before agreeing to sell Jackie and Billy guns, Kenyatta demands they prove their loyalty by participating in an assignment: the assassination of a racist police officer. Initially, Jackie and Billy envision a transactional relationship, imagining they can complete this task and then distance themselves from Kenyatta. However, once entangled with Kenyatta and his organization, they are drawn into a world far more complex and morally ambiguous than they anticipated. They become enmeshed as hitmen for Kenyatta’s cause. The sense of community and purpose that Kenyatta fosters is a powerful lure. Kenyatta, a charismatic and compelling leader, invigorates Jackie and Billy. He represents the epitome of their aspirations – a powerful figure with a secure base, a devoted following, and a seemingly idyllic life, complete with a woman and a secluded farm. He embodies everything they believe they desire. Yet, Kenyatta is not without his own needs. He urgently requires funds to acquire a list detailing the city’s major drug operations. This need inextricably links him to the food stamp heist and, consequently, to Jackie and Billy Good’s ultimate destiny.
Donald Goines' Crime Partners book cover depicting two Black men in a tense standoff, reflecting themes of crime and partnership.
The title Crime Partners itself operates on multiple layers of meaning within the novel. It can directly refer to the partnership between Jackie and Billy, or perhaps the more consequential alliance between these protagonists and Kenyatta. It could even allude to the two detectives diligently pursuing the trail of crimes. Indeed, the book is populated with pairings of all kinds: friends, lovers, mentors and protégés, addicts bound by their habit, and, of course, Crime Partners.
Structurally, Goines adopts an unconventional approach. The opening three chapters are interconnected, stemming from a single event, yet each chapter spotlights a different pair of characters. Chapter one introduces Jo-Jo, a heroin addict whose addiction leads to the tragic death of his girlfriend Tina’s daughter, Little Tina. Chapter two shifts focus to Jackie and Billy, who intend to rob Jo-Jo but are instead horrified to discover the dead child. Incensed, they kill the drug addicts. Chapter three introduces Detectives Benson (Black) and Ryan (White), tasked with investigating the murders of the junkies and the child. While one might anticipate a chapter-by-chapter cycling through various perspectives throughout the book, the narrative largely settles into Jackie and Billy’s point of view. Detectives Benson and Ryan reappear, investigating the criminal aftermath left in Jackie and Billy’s wake, but the primary narrative arc follows Jackie and Billy’s ascent within Kenyatta’s organization and their inevitable downfall.
However, the true magnetic force of the novel is Kenyatta himself. He emerges as a watershed character, perhaps initially conceived as a supporting figure to propel the protagonists’ ambitions, but who quickly asserts himself with such authority and clarity that he dominates every scene he inhabits, becoming a central force in the narrative. Although Crime Partners ostensibly centers on Jackie and Billy, Kenyatta’s presence is so impactful that he features prominently in three subsequent books in the series, even lending his name to the titles of two of them.
In Crime Partners, Kenyatta functions as a force of nature, much like a storm – appearing with intensity, executing his purpose, and then moving on, leaving a lasting impact. Kenyatta’s power stems not solely from raw emotion but from calculated strategy. He is a meticulous planner, keenly aware of contingencies, adept at mobilizing individuals and converting them to his cause.
Donald Goines’ writing style is characterized by its stark simplicity. Readers seeking ornate prose or intricate sentence-level artistry will find little to admire. His prose flows smoothly enough, his language is deliberately crude at times, and his dialogue occasionally lacks nuance. However, his profound understanding of the individuals inhabiting the 1970s ghetto is unparalleled.
I once believed Elmore Leonard held the definitive claim to Detroit’s criminal underbelly in fiction. He is undoubtedly the Motor City’s most renowned crime novelist. Loren Estleman has also set some works there, but his broader fame rests on novels situated elsewhere. Donald Goines, it turns out, explores the same urban terrain and temporal setting (Crime Partners is copyrighted 1974) as Leonard, yet their approaches diverge significantly. Leonard’s writing is marked by verve and wit, his early novels like City Primeval depicting tense situations populated by tough characters. Goines, in contrast, portrays harsh realities and lives tragically cut short. Leonard often presents narratives where justice, in some form, prevails, where the villains often receive poetic retribution. Goines’ world, however, is populated by figures who embody both good and evil in a milieu where justice is a mirage, a cruel deception.
Jackie and Billy’s initial plan is to rob drug addicts. Billy initially hesitates, moved by the junkie woman’s innocent young daughter. Yet, this empathy is quickly suppressed by a cold rationale: these addicts prioritize their addiction above all else, including the child. Arriving at the scene, they steal money while the mother frantically cries for help for her child. Little Tina is already dead, brutally beaten. The fleeting empathy Billy felt transforms into violent rage, leading him to use his gun as an instrument of misguided justice. This violence then extends to the child’s mother. The men flee, their score meager and unsatisfying. The detectives suspect the perpetrators tortured the girl for information. These opening chapters encapsulate the essence of Donald Goines’ Crime Partners in microcosm. Plans unravel in an instant, violence erupts unexpectedly, fate deals unforeseen blows, answers remain elusive, and genuine justice is absent, replaced by a pervasive sense of punishment for those entangled in these dangerous games.
Themes of pain and isolation permeate the narrative. The opening sequence, culminating in the brutal beating of a child, is a harrowing depiction of the devastating consequences of drug addiction. This family unit – mother, daughter, and the mother’s boyfriend – exists in a state of profound isolation, their world reduced to their immediate suffering, inflicted by those closest to them. It’s a scene of almost unbearable horror. The theme of race also surfaces prominently. Detective Benson’s introduction is immediately undermined when a white officer confronts and nearly shoots him for entering a crime scene, dismissing Benson’s clear identification as a fellow officer. Furthermore, Kenyatta’s vengeful crusade against white police officers and drug dealers, whom he holds responsible for the destruction of his community, fuels some of the novel’s most violent and action-driven sequences.
Goines’ debut novel is a raw and unflinching assault on the reader’s sensibilities. It is a primal scream emanating from the darkest corners of the human spirit. It is a compelling, albeit disturbing, exploration of the all-too-real horrors and criminality festering within Detroit’s ghettos. Navigating the world Goines portrays requires a strong constitution.
Crime Partners remains exclusively available in paperback format. To my knowledge, no eBook or audiobook editions currently exist.
The next installment in our Donald Goines mini-reading series will explore Death List, where the formidable Kenyatta takes center stage. It is also available in paperback.
WORKS CITED
Goines, Donald. Crime Partners. Kensington Books: 1974.
“Victims, Aren’t We All?: Donald Goines’ Crime Partners” copyright © 2020 by Daniel R. Robichaud. Cover image and quotes from the Holloway House Classics edition, 2008.
