Every once in a while, a book cover comes along that makes you stop, tilt your head, and mutter, “This… this can’t be it.” Justice on a Cold Platter by Harold DeBoe is one such masterpiece of graphic design negligence. It’s less of a visual enticement and more of a Rorschach test where your first impression is, unfortunately, “This was done on a budget that could barely afford a stapler.”
Let’s begin with the background — a grayscale camouflage pattern so subtle, so unnecessary, it’s as if the cover itself is trying to go into hiding before you can finish reading the title. Perhaps this is symbolic, representing how justice is often obscured… or maybe it’s just the printer running low on toner.
Front and center is the famous symbol of justice: the scales. Except here, the scales look drunk. One side is slouched dramatically, as if leaning on the other for emotional support. The left pan is filled not with gold, not with righteousness, but with a bright red triangle. Is it evidence? Is it a Dorito? No one knows. The right pan, meanwhile, is tragically empty — presumably because even justice couldn’t be bothered to show up for this photo shoot.
The typography is a grab bag of choices, all of them wrong. The title Justice on a Cold Platter feels like the start of a metaphor the author never finished. Cold platter of what? Legal documents? Sushi? Revenge with a side of potato salad? Then there’s the subtitle: The True Story of Murder and a World Class Stalker. Which really should have been the actual title, because let’s be honest — no one is browsing the true crime aisle thinking, “I hope this one sounds like a brunch menu.”
On the spine, we get vertical text in a font that could generously be described as “Times New Roman after a bad night out.” The author’s name, Harold DeBoe, sits there like the signature on a warranty card you’re about to throw away.
This cover radiates a certain chaotic charm — the kind you only find in books printed on a home copier, possibly between rounds of solitaire. It’s not just bad design. It’s a reminder that in the great banquet of book covers, sometimes justice really is served cold… and straight from the leftovers drawer.