So! Four novels in one. I'm fairly well-read in all things Chandler, but I'm not all that familiar with 60's crime fiction, most of which isn't availabe in e-book format (my preferred mode of reading these days), so I was very happy to find out about this offering from Library of America.
Here's how it went.
First, Margaret Millar, "The Fiend": Of the four books, this was the one I was looking forward to most. A clever psychological crime tale involving a cast of characters, each with their own sets of secrets, and how they play off of and interact with each other -- yay! Turns out this wasn't quite what I got. All in all this was a solid but fairly unengaging read -- I was not a fan of the shifting POVs (sometimes they'd change in the middle of the paragraph, like we're jumping characters' heads like lice or fleas... not cool), and of course a lot of the ideas and general circumstances are pretty dated, especially in regards to women and their role/place in society. There's some snappy dialogue, but not much plot to go around. In fact, I'm not 100 per cent sure this actually qualifies as a crime novel, if you want to be strict about it -- nobody really commits a crime, unless you count adultery and some criminally bad decision-making. It's more of a cultural study of mid-60's West Coast suburban life and all the ways expectation moulds people's ways of thinking and behavior. Everybody in "The Fiend" is a keeper of secrets, either their own or other people's, and Margaret Millar takes great care in peeling off one layer of onion skin after the other, which is fun, but this is still a novel that was written about six decades ago, and like I said, it shows, not least in some pretty creative psychology that probably wouldn't fly in this time and age unless we're talking dumb streaming series.
Not to spoil anything, but to me, there really wasn't any Fiend in "The Fiend" (well, okay, maybe that train track person); just a lot of over-emotional women in the throes of existential frustration and the men who are at the root of it and/or have to deal with them -- if that qualifies as a crime novel, so be it, but I thought that whole aspect fell a bit short.

Next, "Doll", by Ed McBain. Interest-wise, this came in third for me (after "Run Man Run" but ahead of Ms. Highsmith) when I read the description, but boy, was I wrong. I'd never read Ed McBain before, but now I have to search out the other 87th Precinct titles as well, which is no small feat as there are about 864 of them and of course most of them are not available for Kindle where I live (THANKS FOR NOTHING, AMAZON), so now I can choose between shelling out for smelly old OOP paperbacks or (ahem) downloading them illegally. Yay.
Anyway. This was fast, furious and very funny, also clever, and an absolute joy to read. After trudging through the stiltedness of "The Fiend", it was great to dive into a book that actually *wanted* to be read and made me feel at home in its world, so much so that I literally couldn't stop reading, which is something I usually don't get from books very much anymore.
Also, of the four books included in "Crime Novels", this one felt most "modern"; while the others show their age, this one is still fresh and kicky. McBain even lets his female characters be characters instead of, well, just Females with a capital F.
Loved it. Am now waiting for (a yellowed, icky, no doubt smelly paperback of) #21 to arrive on my doorstep.

"Run Man Run", by Chester Himes: Sounded so exciting. A bad cop chasing an innocent Black man through NYC, intent on eliminating the only eyewitness to a horrendous double murder, what's not to like, story-wise? The description made it sound like this was a very tight, fast, compact story, likely playing out in the space of a single night.
Well.
Turns out this is NOT what's inside the box. The described chase is over after the first chapter or so; what follows is lots of hand-wringing, and talking (mostly variations on "he's out there, he'll get me, will no one believe me", which gets old a lot sooner than seems humanly possible, mostly due to prose that seemed barely competent to me and the fact that the hunted man is so, SO unlikable), and weird interactions between strangely unformed characters. This novel goes on and on and ON, long past the point where I lost interest and, later, much of the will to live, or at least to read.
I also found it in questionable taste, to put it this way; I mean, what's going ON in that Harlem nightclub?? Let's see: "The atmosphere was both sensual and animal, thick, dense, odorous, pungent and perfumed. Bulls herded their cows. They were domesticated bulls but they were dangerous. [...] Every bull had his cow with heavy udders filled with sex, smelling of the breeding pen, cows that had been topped again and again and wanted to be topped again indefinitely." WTF? Also, can I please go home now?
Some of the prose doesn't border on the purple so much as downride straddle it and push it to the ground: "His panic-stricken muscles were straining in incredible frenzy like a wild stallion in a fit of stone-blind terror." Or what to make of this: "The fear came up into her loins like sexual torture." (Of course the lady in question will go to bed with the fear-inducing gent within a couple of pages, because this is simply that kind of book. In fact, they'll screw like jackrabbits. It's all a bit, okaaaay...) The eroticism generally feels like it's been sitting out in the sun too long: "Then she went as sweet as sugar candy. Her big brown eyes got limpid and her mouth got wet. Her body folded into his. He could feel her pointed breasts through the thickness of their coats." Ouch! Talk about pointed...
Women are treated in a way that you might want to call old school if you were feeling generous (nothing like a slap in the face when the broad gets hysterical with fear); the one recurring female is basically in a state of perma-arousal when she's around men, which made for some, um, interesting reading. Her main function seems to be a fairly worrisome fixation on her man; she only exists in relation to him, and of course to deliver the verbal cues that let him spool off his interminable loop of fears, convictions and suspicions, 99% of which are so underwhelming and pedestrian as to make the reader (well, me) howl with exasperation.
Just not for me, I guess.

As was Patricia Highsmith. "The Tremor of Forgery", well. I guess I just didn't feel it. I'm not a big Highsmith fan (the lady as well as her works); every now and then I decide to maybe give her another try, but I have yet to come across a Highsmith novel I'm able to finish, and this one proved no exception. I tend to fare better with her short fiction, but apparently this one clocks in at around 250 pages -- nope. I only made it a handful of pages in before giving up. Life's too short. I'm leaving this one to the other reviewers.

All in all, this was an enjoyable experience, and I even came out of it with a new favorite author, so I'd definitely recommend this collection -- even if I didn't love every single novel, I don't regret reading them, as they all proved entertaining in their own way (except for the Highsmith one, but that's just personal taste).
My sincere thanks to Netgalley & the publisher for the opportunity to read this tome in exchange for an honest review.

Crime Novels, Four Classic Thrillers 1964-1969(Vol.2)(LOA)-A continuation of Library of America’s exploration into the exceptional noir classics of the 1960’s. These four are a very good example of how that genre flourished during that decade.
The Fiend by Margaret Millar- A known sex-offender is put on alert when a local child goes missing, but the community soon begins imploding revealing many suspects.
Doll by Ed McBain(Evan Hunter)- The 87th Precinct begins a desperate search for one of their own as Steve Carella is kidnapped by murderers, who turn his plight into a game of death. I’ve read all the 87 Precinct books and this is one of the best and darkest read.
Run, Man, Run by Chester Himes- A rough, ragged, profane tale of murder, deception and fear that is mostly psychological and superbly done. I’m definitely going to read more Hines,
The Tremor of Forgery by Patricia Highsmith-A man is trapped within a crumbling mind, in a strange country he cannot leave as he forgets everything about his past life, even the possible death he might have caused. Great stuff! Thanks NetGalley for this dark and deadly ARC!

Nice selection of stories by a wide array of writers. Thanks to Netgalley for the opportunity to read this enjoyable anthology