Q to the OP: Do you care about having enough clues to solve the mystery before the ending? Or do you not care?
(This is a key question for me, and it might be for you too. IMO, this question differentiates “crime” and “drama” and “detective” novels from “mystery” novels.)
I like Dennis Lehane’s detective series before he hit the big time with “Mystic River”. I second the recommendation for Lee Child, very blokey but lots of fun and Child is a master of plot.
If you don’t mind some woo woo with your noir, John Connelly’s Charlie Parker series are very dark, very violent but engrossing. And if you don’t mind darkness and violence you might give Mo Hayder a try. A warning though, I read a lot of crime and it was Hayder’s “Birdman” which made me really question what I was doing reading about serial killers and the like. Well written but confronting.
If big conspiracy theories don’t bother you then Michael Marshall is scary good fun … perhaps more action thriller than straight mystery though.
Oh, and Michael Malone’s three books featuring two Southern cops. I don’t know why this guy doesn’t get more attention, he’s a terrific writer. One of the cops is called Cuddy Mangum, but please don’t eliminate Malone on the basis of a funny name.
I’ve been reading James Hall lately and like him a lot, the Florida setting of Hiassen, but without the surreal humour.
Reginald Hill writes the Dalziel and Pascoe series of police procedurals … he’s a terrific writer, very high on my list of favourite authors. And while we’re talking about favourite writers I’d suggest Peter Temple, who is an Australian author, spare but muscular prose, distinctly noir outlook and breakneck plotting.
I know it has an exotic setting, but David Hewson’s series set in Italy featuring the detectives Costa and Peroni are very good, strong on character and setting.
John Francome writes racing mysteries … I don’t like him as much as Dick Francis, but possibly worth a try. I also like Sam Llewellyn who writes mysteries often set around boats and sailing.
And while you said you didn’t like female authors, maybe you’ve encountered the wrong ones?
I’d suggest the godmother of women’s crime writing, Marcia Muller, along with Sara Paretsky. Neither of them have a lot of time to worry about lunch, they’re too busy saving the world. I’ve also enjoyed Alison Taylor’s police procedurals set on the Welsh border,
You might also try Val McDermid … I’m not such a fan of her later novels (although I’m a bit alone in this), but I really enjoy her private detective series featuring Kate Brannigan, but they might be a bit quirky for your tastes.
I’d also suggest Nevada Barr, Liza Cody and Dana Stabenow for female writers (although Stabenow’s Kate Shugak is Inuit).
Other names which might be worth trying are Loren D Estleman, Stuart Kaminsky, Jon Cleary, Jonathan Valin, Michael Innes and Peter Corris.
Have you tried Robert B. Parker’s Spenser novels? Made into a TV show and movies, they’re very good buddy crime dramas.
I also like Doroty L. Sayers Peter Wimsey books. They’re written assuming the reader is intelligent, well-read and (unfortunately) multi-lingual. Lord Peter is one of my literary boyfriends.
StG
Sorry for the double post, but there’s also **Lawrence Block ** who writes the Matthew Scudder mysteries.
*When the Sacred Gin Mill Closes * is one of the best books I’ve read.
You’re as bad as I am at not reading the thread. 
Block was mentioned in the original post.
In fact, given your taste, if you’re looking at Donald Westlake, you should probably look exclusively for the ‘Parker novels’, which, as noted by Ferd Burfel, are written under the name Richard Stark. They’re fairly gritty, and told almost exclusively from the point of view of the criminal. The original series was written in the late fifties, throughout the sixties and into the early seventies. Some of the very tightest writing you’ll ever see. Westlake took up the series again in the late nineties and has produced about six or seven new novels since then. They’re a bit more loose, and his main character, an outlaw named Parker, is noticeably softer.
Westlake’s other novels run from the comic cop caper to fairly serious crime drama. Some of them are pretty good, but I get the feeling you’d enjoy the ‘Parker novels’ he wrote as Richard Stark. You have to pay attention with Westlake, however, because he wrote another series of novels – the ‘Grofield novels’ – under the name Stark. These novels are generally less gritty. To further confuse the issue, Parker and Grofield sometimes appear in the same novel. Good luck.
Elmore Leonard’s early novels are absolutely fantastic: Unknown Man No. 89, *High Noon in Detroit * and Swag are brilliant.
James Ellroy, as mentioned above, is as gritty as it gets. In every novel there are at least two scenes that make me sick. I haven’t read the L.A. Quartet and doubt I will, but I made it through American Tabloid and The Cold Six Thousand. Apparently the final novel of that ‘American Underworld’ trilogy is soon to be published, but I don’t think I can handle it. I just don’t have the stomach.
I guess you’re not into spy stuff, but John le Carré’s early work gets close to the top of my list. At least read The Spy who Came in From the Cold.
I also liked P.D. James’ early work, both Cordelia Grey and Dalgliesh. Didn’t like Children of Men, however.
I don’t have time for more than just a drive-by, but I want to add a few names to the list.
I like **George P. Pelecanos’ ** books. They tend to have a rotating cast of characters set in and around the Washington D.C. area and spread out over the last two or three decades.
I think Robert Ferrigno writes exactly the kind of books you’re looking for as well. (Except the most recent, Prayers For The Assassin which, while a great story, is not what you are looking for at all.)
And for those who like Joe Landsdale, try to find some books by Neal Barrett, Jr. I especially liked Skinny Annie Blues, Bad Eye Blues and Pink Vodka Blues.
While his earlier books are probably too “light”, the last three or four books by GM Ford have been very good. Like Harlan Coben, I think this is someone who’s growing into a serious writer. I wonder if that’s his real name, though.
Oh - that won’t do for him . . .
In at least one of the Nero Wolfe books, there is a recipe in the back. For pheasant sausage, if I’m not mistaken.
Sorry for the Hijack but I have to say. Worst conceived story ever!!! I couldn’t think of a more implausible story if I were high, and I’ve been pretty freakin high.
Being the big Ellroy fan above, I agree on the gut-wrenching nature of some of his scenes. American Tabloid was INTENSE, and I haven’t tried The Cold Six Thousand yet. He isn’t for everyone, and anyone who likes little old ladies in quaint villages sipping tea and knitting and solving the occasional bloodless murder should best stay away.
I like P.D. James’s Adam Dagliesh series.
Great Og. 50 posts in and nobody has mentioned Tim Dorsey yet?
There has never been a more lovable rogue than Serge Storms. Except maybe Coleman on a good day. 
For the truly offbeat, dig up a copy of Alan Furst’sYour Day In The Barrel. Counter-culture mystery, with a protagonist who is a drug dealer.
Loren Estleman’s Amos Walker series set it Detroit is a worthy sucessor to Raymond Chandler without Chandler’s racism. The plots are sometimes weak, but the descriptions are enough to make sure you avoid Detroit in the winter. Like Chandler, he throws in a few smart ass asides like ‘in the evening he would read his Bible until his lips got tried’
The Cold Six Thousand is very stark and extremely stylized. No paragraph is longer than four lines. Rarely is there a sentence over ten words long. It took me a while to get used to it. There are tons of sequences like this:
Pete looked. Pete thought. Pete removed the knife. Wiped the finger prints. Prepared the syringe.
I don’t want to read the final novel of the trilogy, but I’ll probably have to. I need to see what happens to Pete Bondurant, perhaps the most monstrous character in American lit. To the best of my recollection, he was still alive at the end of The Cold Six Thousand, but frankly, the novel was so upsetting that I can’t even remember exactly how it ended.