To Bess and Paul
whose belief and support
are beyond measure
The Old West produced a unique collection of rogues and rascals.
Outlaws and grifters, gunfighters and gamblers, they formed a roll call unsurpassed for shady exploits. Certain of these men were supreme egotists, actively courting fame and glory. They manipulated the media of the day, and the media, with a public clamouring for larger-than-life heroes, was delighted to oblige. Dime novelists, abetted by newspapers and periodicals, transformed these rogues and rascals into the stuff of legend. Later, with a remarkable disdain for the facts, movies and television added their own brand of hype to an already false mythology. The end result was a pantheon of stalwart gunmen and chivalrous desperadoes.
For the most part, it was folklore founded on invention and lies. And it was sold to America by hucksters with an uncanny knack for distorting the truth.
Jesse James was one of the myths fobbed off on a gullible public. Far from the Robin Hood of legend, he was a paranoid outcast who robbed banks and trains rather than work for a living. He was also a master of propaganda. Throughout his career as an outlaw, he
wrote articulate and persuasive letters to the editors of several midwestern newspapers. The letters were duly reprinted, and accounted, in large measure, for the belief that he “robbed the rich and gave to the poor.” In reality, he was something less than charitable; there is no documented instance of his assisting the needy or championing the cause of oppressed people. He was, moreover, a sadistic killer without mercy or remorse. Still Jesse James captured the public’s imagination, and he did it with a certain flair. He was his own best press agent
Yet every myth has some foundation in fact. The Old West produced many mankillers who were both honourable and courageous. For the most part, however, they shunned the limelight. Because they weren’t seeking fame or immortality, they made poor source material for dime novelists and hack journalists. The upshot was that their attributes were grafted onto the rogues and rascals. America, as a result, ended up revering men who deserved no place in our folklore. The truly legendary characters of the era became little more than footnotes in the pages of history.
Luke Starbuck was one such man. His character is a composite of several Old West detectives, who were the most feared mankillers of the day. They worked undercover—generally in disguise—and thus their exploits are not widely known. In The Manhunter Starbuck accepts an assignment that pits him against Jesse James. Though the events depicted are historically accurate, certain liberties have been taken regarding time and place. Yet the characters are real, and the revelations unearthed by Starbuck are fact, not fiction. His investigation at last brings to light the truth about Jesse James. A hundred years overdue, it is nonetheless a story that needs telling.
The Manhunter also reveals Starbuck’s role in the
death of Jesse James. A compelling tale, it was until now shrouded in mystery. Luke Starbuck told no one of the part he played. For he was a man of many parts and many faces. None of them his own.