The Convertible Hearse is a good enough book. Brock digs into the murder of one of L.A.'s sleazier used car salesmen, continues his love/hate relationship with police and his hate/hate relationship with hoodlums, and continues to find himself not quite suited to his new profession of private investigator. In other words, it's more of the same, only this time without the pro football angle that made Day of the Ram so interesting. The only new thing here is that Brock's girlfriend Jan gets pissy early in the book and stays that way until late in the book, giving him another reason to feel sorry for himself.
My problem with Brock, I suspect, is that he's not Robert B. Parker's Spenser, and after umpteen readings of that series I tend to judge all other detectives against Spenser's standard. On the Spensermeter, Brock is just too polite, too cautious, too serious and too unsure of himself. You know, more like a real human being.
For me, that problem is easily solved. I'll just read another Spenser book (again). Maybe two. Then something completely different. And one of these days, when I'm in the mood for a nice guy detective again, I'll hunt up my copy of the next Callahan book.