The Lone Wolf #4: Desert Stalker

The Lone Wolf #4: Desert Stalker, by Mike Barry

January, 1974  Berkley Medallion Books

Years ago Marty McKee sent me the entire run of The Lone Wolf, telling me how much he thought I’d enjoy the series. I’m sorry again that I took so long to heed Marty’s advice, as I do indeed enjoy this series – so much so that, even though crazed hero Burt Wulff spends the majority of Desert Stalker merely sitting in a hotel room, I found myself so caught up in it that I sped through the novel in no time. 

In my review of the previous volume I noted Barry “Mike Barry” Malzberg’s “Notes On The Lone Wolf” essay from 1990, in which Malzberg stated that he took a publisher-mandated break between that volume and this one, and Malzberg felt it caused him to lose some of the narrative momentum. That did not seem very evident to me. Desert Stalker burns with that same weird, neurotic fire as the first three books. And once again Malzberg subtly displays the coolest conceit of The Lone Wolf: that Wulff’s presence is so disruptive he affects the reality of those he enocunters, to the point that they wonder if they are dreaming. 

While the “Conlan” name goofs don’t appear this time, there does seem to be some confusion on the first name: is it Martin or is it Burt? They’re both used in the book; the novel opens with an underworld communique in which “Martin Wulff” and his war on the mob is discussed – a communique that makes it clear that the Mafia had nothing whatsoever to do with the OD death of Wulff’s girlfriend in the first volume. In other words, Wulff’s war on the Mafia has started on false premises…yet, the communique notes, Wulff’s learning of this would probably have no impact on his war. He is committed to it, and is clearly insane. But on the back cover we are told it’s Burt Wulff, so either it’s more copyediting gaffes or he goes by the nickname Burt. Maybe the first volume spelled this out and I’ve just forgotten. 

Malzberg also maintains the pace of the previous books, with Desert Stalker opening pretty much immediately after Boston Avenger. Wulff drives direct to New York from Boston, his first time there since the first volume. He visits Williams, his partner from the opening pages of that first volume, and we get a lot of not-safe-for-today observations on blacks from Wulff/the narrative: “There was hatred one inch below the surface of any black man.” Malzberg treads this strange ground where Williams and Wulff have a sort of surly relationship, with Wulff thinking that Williams plans to use Wulff as a blunt instrument to kill criminals – and meanwhile Williams is still just a patrolman, so it isn’t like he’s some higher-up who can use his resoruces to fuel a secret war, a la the guy in Death Wish 3. 

Regardless, Williams essentially gives Wulff his mission this time. Impressed with the amount of damage Wulff has done so quickly, Williams tells Wulff that maybe he should look into Bill Stone, a lieutenant in the NYPD who “bugged out” with “a million dollars worth of shit” from the evidence room – a plot similar to Inside Job. However, this plot will prove to be a nonentity, as if Malzberg loses interest in it as he writes. Stone is set up as being a sort of reflection of Wulff – in fact Williams says that it was speculated that Wulff and Stone were working together, given that they both “bugged out” around the same time – but as it turns out, Stone only features in the novel for a single chapter. 

Instead, the brunt of Desert Stalker is composed of Burt/Martin Wulff barricading himself inside a plush penthouse suite in a hotel in Las Vegas. For that is where Stone has fled, per Williams’s intel, and after a night’s sleep Wulff hauls ass for Las Vegas. That surreal vibe of his enemies always surrounding him is also retained, with Wulff attacked along a desert road. Malzberg delivers effective action scenes in that they certainly have plentiful violence and gore, but as is typical he hasn’t done much research on firearms. Most notably, Wulff’s gun is refered to as a “revolver,” but Malzberg will write stuff like, “Wulff took out his revolver, put in a full clip.” I overlooked such mistakes, though, as the atmosphere and surreal vibe of the series is superior to any sort of firearm accuracy: 

Despite the psycho-surreal vibe, Malzberg still delivers action scenes. But as ever the series has more in common with the mainstream crime thrillers of the era than it does The Executioner. Whereas Mack Bolan would carefully plan his assault on the Vegas mob, Wulff as ever just bulls his way through without much of a plan. In fact he just walks into the casino-hotel Stone is reportedly staying in, knowing that he’ll immediately be spotted. Malzberg delivers his patented dark humor as Wulff shows absolutely no fear of the two thugs who come to collect him, much to their confusion – again, he is such a supernatural force that “normal people” don’t know how to react. This leads to some crazy stuff where Wulff, presumably the target, takes charge of the situation, escorts the thugs up to the big boss’s room, and proceeds to argue with everyone. 

Vinelli is the big boss, and as seen in the excerpt above he quickly suffers at the “revolver” of Wulff. But like Stone, Vinelli initially comes off as more of a presence than he ultimately will be; one of the few problems I had with Desert Stalker is that a profusion of “big bosses” kept appearing on the scene. It’s not a big deal, though, and just more indication that Wulff himself is the true “big bad” of the series; even the top Mafia boss is stupefied by him. But after shooting Vinelli, Wulff drags his bleeding form into Vinelli’s room and spends pretty much the rest of the novel there. It sounds lame I know, but man it’s filled with such dark humor and just plain weirdness that I found myself loving it. 

Malzberg frequently refers to previous volumes, and suprisingly Wulff even makes a phone call to Tamara, aka Louise, the babe he scored with in the second volume. This is an affecting scene that doesn’t get too sappy, but it’s made clear that Wulff feels something for Tamara. In fact it is she who makes him realize that he now wants to live, to “come back” to the real world…even though he still thinks of himself as “a dead man.” Wulff makes the call while the various Vegas forces are converging on his penthouse suite, and truth be told the inevitable action scene also is not in the realm of The Executioner. Guys just come in through the window and try to barge down the door, and Wulff shoots them. Again, it’s the twisted vibe that stands out, like the ultra-bizarre metaphor Malzberg uses to describe a collapsing hotel: 

Malzberg continues the schtick of having the volumes bleed into one another; Desert Stalker ends with Wulff getting on an airplane, ready to head for his next destination to kill more mobsters. Despite Malzberg’s reservations about any loss of momentum in his 1990 essay on the series, I have to say that this one was just as enjoyable as the previous three.