Slate (Valentine and Lovelace #3) by Nathan Aldyne (1984)

“Daniel Valentine and Clarissa Lovelace are back in Boston after the summer in P’Town. When Clarissa is gifted a run-down building by her gay uncle Noah, she and Daniel decide to make a dream come true: opening their own gay bar. While Clarissa heads off to law school, Daniel gets busy turning their new bar into Boston's grooviest bar. Everything is seemly going their way, with the remodel of the bar and Valentine dating a new man who just happens to be in construction. Then there is the new (and free apartment) to renovate as well. But when a particular writer of local gay rags, who knows a lot about everyone and is going to spill the tea in the next edition, ends up dead in Clarissa bed, the clock begins to tick to finish the bar plus try and solve another murder.” 

Odd, there is some continuity from the last book to this book but not from the first book to this book. Like the two previous titles, this is set in an exuberantly pre-AIDS world (though the Gay Men’s Choir gets a shout-out about doing a function that is related to AIDS, and then the book opens with Valentine in the hospital suffering from double-pneumonia, which where he meets Linc, who is suffering from some vague infection. It made me think that McDowell was trying to say something, but those sub-plots are dropped). And unlike the first two, there is only one murder here and which makes this third novel suffer the most from listlessness. 

There is a lot of convenience and coincidence here, especially with the set up of the bar, which takes up a lot of the first half of the book. Maybe forty plus years ago it was easy to open a business, but even though Slate was given to Clarissa (and Uncle Noah seems fine with the costs), everything thing goes their way (including Loverlace’s classes to become a lawyer). 

What works here, and really the oil that makes this book series run smoothly, is the refreshingly relaxed friendship between Daniel Valentine and Clarisse Lovelace. They would be fun people to be around and I wouldn’t mind being friends with them. 

Slate maybe the weakest entry so far, but even if the usual zaniness has been reduced here, there is a fun time to be had here.  

Books: Q Clearance by Peter Benchley (1986)

"Timothy Burnham works as a speechwriter to the President. He has been in the same room as the great man, but only with a lot of other people, and he likes it that way – he is that rarity in Washington, a man with no appetite for power. By a quirk of bureaucracy Burnham is given Q Clearance, which means that every day he receives documents crammed with the highest atomic secrets of which he understands not a word, and which he has to shred every night. Big joke, thinks Burnham – but he does not laugh when for unfathomable reasons he suddenly becomes the President's blue-eyed boy. That, he knows, is more than he can cope with – except that, exhilaratingly, the terrifying old man seems to bring out in Burnham more than Burnham knew was there. While this nerve-racking relationship is developing, Burnham meets a lovely blonde. It does not occur to him that a lovely blonde might show obvious interest in a man with Q Clearance, who enjoys the confidence of his President, for some reason other than their enjoyable compatibility.” 

Before Peter Benchley became the mega-successful writer of Jaws, The Deep, and The Island, he was writer for The Washington Post and Newsweek before becoming President Lyndon B. Johnson’s speechwriter and it be interesting to know how much that goes down in the West Wing while he was there made it into this book. Of course, names had be changed, as well as certain situations, but still. Benchley, of course, came from powerful dynasty of writers in the 20th Century (both his grandfather and father were founders of the Algonquin Round Table), and while he’ll always be remembered for Jaws and other popular fiction titles, Q Clearance comes close to being a tale to fall under the same umbrella as John Le Carre (which he is safe from). It’s a bit dated novel if only because I think Benchley used 1960s early 70s politics instead of mid-1980s when Ronald Reagan began to destroy the American way. Also, the (Russian) spies seem a bit old-fashioned, as well. I think it works more as a merciless send-up of government bureaucrats than anything else. While this book was released in 1986, I’m guessing not much has changed when it comes to the power structure of DC. 

Other subplots involve a White House cleaning lady from Bermuda who is desperate to procure for her son a certificate of graduation from high school; an enigmatic caterer whose past is known to nobody (or at least, to nobody in the United States); and several members of the President's Cabinet (one who has unfortunate name of Epstein and I couldn’t help be be a distracted by that. There is a tacky plot device about Burnham’s marriage falling apart over a microphone bug found in their car. She wants him to quit because she hates the idea that her own government is spying on her and their two kids (who are more ciphers than characters), but that seems a bit overkill, and seemly just designed to get Tim to live at the Y and thus get involved with Eva, a Russian vitamin salesperson with questionable issues with her job.

I liked it, and Benchely can be a funny. And Q Clearance is entertaining, but light and breezy like a few of his other novels. It’s a spy novel for folks who might find Le Carre, John Forsythe, Ken Follett, or Len Deighton a bit too deep.

Books: Lemons Never Lie (Alan Grofield #4) by Richard Stark (1972)

“When he’s not carrying out heists with his friend Parker, Alan Grofield runs a small theater in Indiana. But putting on shows costs money and jobs have been thin lately—which is why Grofield agreed to fly to Las Vegas to hear Andrew Myers’ plan to knock over a brewery in upstate New York. Unfortunately, Myers’ plan is insane—so Grofield walks out on him. But Myers isn’t a man you walk out on, and his retribution culminates in an act of unforgivable brutality. That’s when Grofield decides to show him what a disciple of Parker is capable of.” 

Lemons Never Lie would be the last Alan Grofield spin-off novel, but the character would make another appearance in the 1974 (sort of) final Parker novel, Butcher’s Moon. The more reliable Westlake Review can’t come to any conclusion as to why Stark stopped writing about him, but like Parker, there’s an assumption the 1970s was causing problems for thieves who are stealing large amounts of cash from banks, entertainment venues, local stores and other places –those places were drying up, mostly due to the credit card boom, and money being transferred electronically, so there no need to have large amounts of loose cash on hand. They also noted: “It does, like the others, refer to Parker, remind us of Grofield’s connection to him (there’s even a brief cameo by Handy McKay).  Westlake was well aware of the fact that Grofield had not developed much of an independent fanbase, and that Grofield’s readership was, in the main, a subset of Parker’s.”

 

So after Butcher’s Moon, Grofield never appeared in another Parker novel (though Westlake would revive that character in 1997). Though, on a side note, Westlake did create a sort of alternate universe version of Grofield (who had sold out and become a prosperous star of film and TV) who periodically would popup in the Dortmunder books. 

 

Finally, perhaps by the time Westlake restarted the Parker novels after a twenty-three year absence, the rise of the information age would’ve stretched the concept of an actor who also committed robberies using the same name a bit hard to cover up. For many, those latter Parker tales were already stretching the believability factor.

 

Out of the four books, Lemons Never Lie comes the closest to what Westlake created in the Parker character. Seems ironic that a lot of Stark/Westlake fans did not really enjoy this off ramp into the mind of Grofield, but here, in this last book, Grofield is closest to being part of the darkness that surrounds Parker.

 

The most interesting thing about the book is that it actually shows Grofield working at his small theater – an out the way place in rural Indiana. It recounts the mundane aspect he and his wife Mary go through to put on highly unprofitable plays (and one where we see Westlake/Stark take a jab at the current medium of popular TV, movies, and even tedious plays. He only puts on “legit” plays). This also sort of really shows why Grofield has his side business as a thief – it raises the capital to put on his shows.

 

As well, though, Lemons Never Lies doesn’t read like a last book in the series, it yet somehow kind of works as such. I liked Grofield and despite being a less ruthless thief and killer that is Parker (and he’s less humorous here), he remains just as complex and interesting as Parker.

Books: The Blackbird (Alan Grofield #3) By Richard Stark (1969)

“After a dramatic armor car robbery goes south (the first chapter opens with the events -with minor variations- from Stark’s Parker novel, Slayground), Grofield, while recovering from his injuries, becomes the man who knows too much (though this book seemly plays out like another Hitchcock thriller, Notorious), as unnamed federal agents will make his robbery charges go away is he agrees infiltrate a dangerous group attempting to influence a newly independent African nation.” 

Long before John Dortmunder (some variations on the plot in this book will pop up in The Hot Rock) showed up, it appears that Westlake was using Alan Grofield to test out some other ways to tell his tales -still somewhat violent, but also with additional humor not seen in the Parker novels. So we get Grofield as the reluctant adventurer in The Damsel, and a reluctant detective stuck in a locked-room mystery in The Dame, while here in The Blackbird, we get a reluctant spy. The reason Grofield was picked for this mission is because he knows both General Pozos, dictator of the South American banana republic Guerrero (who he met in The Damsel), and Onum Marba, a powerful politician from the African country Undurwa (who he met in The Dame), both of whom will be at the conference, representing their countries. 

It’s also been well established that Grofield has an overwhelming sense of self-preservation and has a contemptuous attitude every-man-for-himself. This may be the characters only drawback, because while he sort of becomes a cut-rate James Bond here, his relationship with one Undurwan aide Vivian Kamdela (the blackbird of the title) becomes a battle of what Grofield will do for his country (nothing much) and the beliefs of the ultra-patriot Miss Kamdela. Throughout the book, they have a back and forth philosophical dialogue about what a patriot means, what loyalty means. She clearly believes in being a good soldier, while Grofield only believes in being Grofield. 

There is a lot more smart-assery and wisecracks going on here, as well, which (as mentioned) is out of place in a Richard Stark tale, but the book does return to violence you expect in the Parker tales in the end, though Alan seems pragmatic about it, and less ruthless (but, in its own way it can be sold as being ruthless. It’s a fine line, from my POV. Like Parker, he is a thief, but will cross the line to save his own hide, even at the expense of four idiotic Americans playing a game that is so far out of their league).

Books: Steps Going Down by Joseph Hansen (1985)

“Darryl Cutler knows a good thing when he sees it -- and old Stewart Moody's fortune is the best thing he's ever seen. So Darryl takes care of the dying old man, knowing the promised inheritance is well worth the wait. Or so Darryl believes, until something even better comes along. When Chick Pelletier, a young sunny-haired would-be actor appears on the scene Darryl is obsessed: he'll do anything to please Chick. But Darryl has finally met the hustler who can out-hustle him, and the stakes are getting higher all the time.” 

I’m unsure of writer Joseph Hansen’s motives here, as the book plays out more like a psycho-drama between two men willing to do anything to maintain the glamorous lifestyle of the rich. Darryl is a hustler, but seemly with a bit of moral fiber, where Chick (a sort of hapless take on Patricia Highsmith’s Talented Mr. Ripley?) has no scruples and easily convinces Darryl to commit murder (they almost leap right to it). But, as the cover says, it’s a “tawdry” tale that makes the reader a bit uncomfortable to read it to completion. There is at no point in the book where anyone is likable, even Darryl’s life choices can be blamed on his horrible, good for nothing Mother, who chipped any potential goodness out him when he was a child. She’s definitely a domineering woman who got hurt and made Darryl pay for it through insults and uncaring upbringing. I think, though, her way of emasculating her son was enough for him to move out of Portland, so I kind of felt the Darryl accidentally running over and killing a 11 year-old boy was a bit overkill. 

Much of the book involves the on again off again relationship between Chick and Darryl, two people who should never be together, but somehow keep crashing into each other, keep needing each other, both loving and hating each other. The other plot point involves plagiarizing the script to a TV movie, which in 1984 probably sounded realistic, but forty-two years later seems a bit silly. 

There is a nice plot twist at the end, one I certainly did not see coming, but it’s about the only thing I can recommend here, because unlike Hansen’s Dave Brandsetter books, which went out its way to show the darkness at the heart of Southern California lifestyle, the only thing Steps Going Down is Hansen’s prose, which makes the book a worthy read for fans of the writer. Otherwise, this book will leave you a bit queasy and more than feeling a little bit dirty.

Books: Cobalt (Valentine and Lovelace #2) by Nathan Aldyne (1982)

 “The setting? Provincetown, circa the early 1980s, otherwise known as Sodom-by-the-Sea. The place? Only the hottest party in town, darling, and you’re invited! Clarisse, for one, is thrilled to strap on her dancing shoes: Not only is there an entire gaggle of gay men (who better to appreciate her divine diva-tude?), but some of them are very pretty (and Ma’amselle does like her eye-candy). Even better, a murder is announced, and since it’s nobody that anyone knew well, Clarisse is free to disregard all the niceties of Oh, how terrible, and concentrate entirely on poking into other people’s business. Valentine’s on hand to help, of course, though a little distracted—I mean, if a gorgeous gay bartender can’t find love in 1980s P’town, he might as well hand in his Donna Summer albums.”

Despite being the second book in a series of four, Cobalt (much like McDowell’s Jack and Susan series), appears to reboot itself, as no mention is made of their previous bout with murder. The book gives a great view of the pre-AIDS era 1980s and the party scene in Provincetown, with Daniel Valentine working at the Throne and Scepter bar, while browsing for Mr. Right. This time, as well, Clarisse nabs a hunky cop all her own. But what stays the same is murder and when a hunky drug dealer ends up washed up on the sea shore, both Valentine and Lovelace must try and figure out what is going on. As the story unfolds, they get to hear endless secrets, the jealousies of many gay men, and lies behind the beautiful faces around them, all which can be a motive for murder. 

As with the first book, there is a lot of merriment on top of the murder, drugs and seemly contemporaneous aspect of gay men that remains the same in 2026 as did in the early 80s. Still, Valentine and Lovelace continue their breezy Nick and Nora, Thin Man-style relationship, the biting humor that only dear friends can get away with. 

But these books (and the ones written under McDowell’s own name, along with Axel Young), are such strange period pieces and now maybe that’s why these works (outside his Gothic Horror tales) are mostly out of print and hard find on the secondary market (then, when found, tend to be very expensive). The sad fact is these books will only appeal to collectors and (probably) by gay men who either survived the early AIDS years or came of age after, and are curious to know what those pre-HIV days were like (though bitchy queens remain a constant no matter what the decade is). So as funny McDowell and Dennis Schuetz can be here, you can’t help realize that the whole jump-into-bed-with-any-hot-man-around will come to a chilling end, because AIDS was on the horizon and places like "P-town" were going to be devastated by it. 

I continue to hunt for book three and four, but as noted, those books are out of print, though they are offered as an ebook – but I like physical books. While Valancourt Books still offers some of McDowell’s horror tales (in both paperback and digital versions), the last company to offer these gay-themed mysteries in paperback appears to been Felony & Mayhem Press from about a dozen years ago (though, again, a digital format are still available). And, at one time, Alyson Books, formerly known as Alyson Publications, who specialized in LGBT works of various genres, also released these books. I occasionally come across them, but even they have become expensive.