Take a private detective so tough even the police get out of his way, toss a dead Oriental in his office, then send in some glamorous dame with $6,000 and a cockamamie story about a dozen Chinamen and a missing (later dead) sister, who then vanishes under mysterious circumstances, and you have the opening to "Twelve Chinamen and a Woman," not a very PC-friendly title for the warm-and-fuzzy non-judgmental age in which we live, but positively cozy compared to its original title.
The detective in question is Fenner, who previously made a name for himself in Chase's controversial ultra-noir "No Flowers for Miss Blandish," which gained fame when it was dissected (and dissed) by no less a literary light than George Orwell. Obligated to take the case even though the client has vanished (he took $6,000, equal to about two year's pay for the average joe in 1939 so he has to do what he has to do to earn it), he follows the trail to Florida, meets a lot of unsavory characters, runs into a few hard-bitten but good-looking dames, and uncovers a human-smuggling ring.
The "Twelve Chinamen" of the title and the term dropped on him to peak his interest refers to the maximum number of Chinamen that can be smuggled per trip by boat via Cuba. Once the cargo is on US soil, assuming they don't get dumped at sea to avoid the Coast Guard (they're chained together so if one goes in they all go in, nice and neat) they get sold to businesses around the country as slave labor, not unlike what is done to poor Mexicans and other nationalities coming up through the southern border these days. The whole racket sickens Fenner and he decides to smash it and anyone who gets in the way, which is when things get really interesting.
To say the violence is over the top is to understate its intensity. Once started, the shootings, knifings and bombing do not stop until nearly every player in the book has a bullet between the eyes, a knife in the back, is stitched up by a tommy gun, or is blasted by one of the many homemade bombs tossed in at the end. The violence reaches, and probably surpasses psychotic levels, and yet Fenner does not himself become one of the psychotics. He has a goal and a plan to reach that goal, and he does exactly what is necessary to reach that goal. Despite his rage, he maintains his humanity, decency and honor, and when the job is done, so is he.
Even fans of noir fiction may find this crime book a bit too much to handle. Though Fenner does not engage in gratuitous violence, many of his associates and certainly his enemies do, relishing it as they gun each other down. And other readers may not like the book because the narrative and dialogue impinge upon our programmed social guilt centers. But, for all that, it is a very well-written non-stop adventure, soaked in blood and dripping with cynicism and yet possessing at its heart a code of honor, the very American idea of doing the right thing, no matter the personal cost, then walking away without animus when the job is done.