The Butcher #9: Sealed With Blood

The Butcher #9: Sealed With Blood, by Stuart Jason
November, 1973  Pinnacle Books

The most interesting thing about this volume of The Butcher is that it clearly wasn’t written by usual series author James Dockery; nor was it written by Lee Floren, who turned in the next volume. This unknown writer seems to have been briefed on the series, but turned in his (or her) own take on it. Unfortunately, this new take results in a middling, boring installment in which hero Bucher comes off more like a government flunkey than the terse badass of the Dockery books.

At any rate I can attest from the get-go that this is not Dockery. For one, the narrative style is completely different. For another, Dockery’s usual repetitive plot is not here – though, curiously, this ghostwriter has retained Dockery’s penchant for setting tales in the Middle East. Otherwise, the usual Dockery flourishes are absent: no opening sequence with Bucher gunning down a pair of Syndicate mutants, no obligatory bit in which Bucher is jailed over his illegal silencer and then freed by a phone call from some local politician, no outrageous plot change in the second half of the book. And no “bitter taste of defeat” as the last line of the book. And it’s not Floren, either; it’s been a few years since I read his installment, but as I recall Floren was prone to referring to Bucher as “Butcher” in the narrative – something Dockery never does in the narrative, only in the dialog – and also there was more action in Floren’s book than there is in this one. And also Bucher didn’t come off like a bureaucrat in Floren’s installment, as he does here.

I almost get the impression this poor writer was given a half-assed overview by Script Associates, the outfit behind the series:

“His name’s Bucher, he was known as the Butcher when he was in the Mafia, and now he goes by Iceman and he works for the government. Sometimes his capers take him to the Middle East.” 

“Okay…does he work for any specific governmental agency?”

“You can just say ‘the government.’”

“Does he use any particular gadgets, like a special gun he favors or anything?”

“Uh…nah.”

And from there the poor bastard just winged it, coming up with his own team that Bucher works with, humorously enough presenting them without any background, as if we’ve encountered all of them before. In particular there’s Stanton, Bucher’s 27 year-old “Government” contact, who so far as this volume goes has enjoyed a long working relationship with Bucher…not that we’ve ever heard of the guy before. In a way I appreciated this ghostwriter’s brazen disregard for the fact that eight volumes preceded this one. That is, if the dude even knew there were volumes previous to his; as I say, I think he got a half-assed series overview. But anyway Stanton only ever appears via phone calls with Bucher, setting him up with info, orders, equipment, and partners.

That last regard is one of the bigger changes from the Dockery installments; here Bucher is always being partnered up with a team of “government” men. This would be fine, save for the curious element that he’s always explaining himself to them. I kid you not. Bucher, practically a monosyllabic glacier in Dockery’s books, runs at the mouth constantly in Sealed With Blood; even in shootouts with mobsters he has to explain to his men why he wants them to take up certain positions, or even why he wants to go after the bad guys in the first place. It’s the most extreme emasculation of a series protagonist since Richard Blade #9. I mean Bucher even declares – not just once but a couple times – that he values his life and wants to keep living and all this other jazz. While such sentiments are of course understandable, voicing them goes completely against the grain of the terse bad-assery Dockery presented in the previous volumes.

We know something’s up from the first pages, which concern a bunch of one-off “Organization” bigwigs discussing Bucher, and how to do away with him. There’s also mention of some business in the Middle East. From there to Bucher…not being shadowed by a pair of freaks, but simply snooping around an airport in New York. The muddy plot has something to do with farm cargo to Israel being used to transfer something of vital interest to the Mafia. Some shady types are working on the cargo and Bucher’s ordered by them to leave. He’s jumped by some thug, but turns the tables and beats the guy up…then talks him into taking a ride in a taxi so he can tell Bucher what’s going on(!?). It gets even more WTF?! when Bucher gets in a conversation about Manhattan traffic with the cabbie, all while secretly holding a gun on his captive.

Oh, and that’s another funny element: Bucher’s pistol is only ever referred to as “gun.” Actually, all of the weapons throughout the book are just “guns,” with no specific make or models given, save for an arbitrary part where Bucher reckons that a gun being trained on him is “foreign.” So clearly firearms are not a speciality of this particular ghostwriter. Nor is plotting; it takes a good forty or fifty pages for us to even find out why Bucher’s looking into this “cargo for Israel” scheme. Hell if I’m not mistaken, we’re not even told the opening action is in New York until the sequence is almost over. It’s all very generic and half-baked, with lazy detailing and plotting.

Eventually it turns out that gold and weapons are hidden in the cargo. Bucher’s not the brightest, though – after the opening bit, where he makes off with the beaten thug (who is killed in a drive-by shooting immediately thereafter), Bucher realizes that there might’ve been a bomb on the cargo plane, which meanwhile has already taken off. This folks makes for some of the most lame “suspense” I’ve ever encountered in an action novel; Bucher calls Stanton, our first taste of the incessant explaining Bucher has to provide the younger man so far as his reasoning and logic go, and begs for the cargo plane to be turned back around so the cargo can be checked for a bomb. Stanton’s like, let me get back to you. Then calls back and he’s like, nope, we lost contact with the plane. And this goes on for pages…only to eventually turn out that the plane had a minor electrical gaffe or something and the flight’s fine, and meanwhile it’s already halfway to the destination so let’s just let it keep on going. Oh and Bucher, why don’t you head on over to Israel yourself?

Seriously, our hero is bossed around relentlessly in this one, even by the one-off government agents who make up his team, from Waltstrom, who gets in constant arguments/discussions with Bucher, to Hamid, who is apparently new to the team or something. Action is infrequent, and not very gripping. Bucher and team get in a shootout in a building with some thugs in New York, and even here Bucher gets in intermittent arguments with his cronies. Violence is minimal, and there’s a curious focus on Bucher’s team members getting shot, Bucher fretting over them, and then Bucher later being informed that so and so will make it, after all. Actually “fretting” sums up Bucher’s entire demeanor in this installment; it’s like the real Bucher took a bit of a vacation and hoped no one would notice a stand-in had taken his place.

As noted the finale tries to retain the vibe of Dockery with the action occurring in the deserts of the Middle East; Bucher and his team get in intermittent firefights with Bedouins, who are being used to transport the weapons and gold smuggled in on the cargo planes. The only female character appears here: Aza, a hotstuff dancer who has worked undercover for one of Bucher’s government dudes before. Another example of this author’s lack of plotting skills, Aza contributes nothing to the tale, save for an arbitrary part where Bucher dreams that he’s about to have sex with her. Yes, seriously. In the last pages he finds her in the confidence of the Bedouin leader, meaning that not only is Aza a traitor but that she’s set Bucher and team up to be killed. But curiously Bucher is mostly okay with this, and basically sends Aza off with a stern talking to.

Honestly though, Sealed With Blood is a passable installment, having nothing in common with earlier or later volumes – unless this unknown contract writer turned in any others. No idea who it was, though early on I wondered if it might be our old pal Paul Hofrichter, particularly given the arbitrary discussions that occur throughout the novel. But there’s more action in Sealed With Blood than the typical Hofrichter book. Whoever the writer was, hopefully this will be the last we see of him (or her!) and this emasculated version of Bucher.