Killers are my Meat by Stephen Marlowe

Though a trifle lackluster on the cover I learned of Stephen Marlowe from the Paperback Warrior podcast and knew I needed to check him out. And yes, I am one of those cover art people. Books with better cover art usually get bumped to the front of the line. I’m shallow, what do you want?

This is a classic 50’s Gold Medal Private Detective series starring a man named Chester Drum. Unlike many of the usual poor bastard protagonists, Drum is not down on his luck, nor does he have gallons of alcohol passing through his gullet every chance he gets. He’s actually pretty successful and the guy you probably would want to hire in real life.

A former detective mentor of his is holed up in a seasonal cabin rental with a gun and lots of booze. His wife has hired Drum to go to the island and get him. But the senior P.I. has gone funny. He thinks someone is after him. Drum talks him down and they head back to the mainland. But surprise, there is a car waiting to run him over. He dies and Drum ends up in the hospital.

Drum is feeling like a louse cause he didn’t protect the guy. He vows to find the killers. But also, life goes on and he gets another job. The wife of a US Diplomat needs Drum to go pick up her husband at 3am from a bar because some ruffians are threatening him. There is a fist fight with some preppy hooligan looking Indian guys. Drum fends them off and they escape.

He learns that the diplomat is having an affair with the Indian Ambassador’s wife. Scandalous! Along the way the two cases overlap. US diplomat is headed to India for a conference and his wife has Drum accompany him for protection.

We’ve got; heroin junkies, muscle, religious fanatics, political fanatics, the local cops, busy reporter bee/ ex-flame, spiritual awakening, pacifists getting violent, love triangles, kidnappings, sensational headlines, fist fights, and conspiracies all set in steamy India.

I love a good Far East setting. It was dirty, grimy and sweaty. Marlowe paints it all wonderfully. I especially liked the preppy hooligan guy. I could picture him right away. Much cooler than your standard thug. I can’t remember if Drum beds any ladies. It didn’t seem as important as it does in other P.I. stories. As someone who doesn’t drink, I enjoyed the lack of constant drinking and didn’t feel it took anything away from the ambiance. This was my introduction to the series and I’m looking forward to reading more. I hear a lot of the stories are similar wherein Drum gets dispatched to other countries. Cultural exchange settings are my meat.

Fawcett Gold Medal 2nd printing 1961

Cover art: Gerry Powell

Review by Nick Anderson