The plan was simple at first, and then, when we started, I knew that this conspiracy to hijack the Syndicate was the master of all of us. But I was smart... so damned smart, and I knew we could play with murder and not get...
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Professor Quotient’s quiz act suddenly pays off in grim murder, with a baffling mystery as the jackpot...
Steve Harris, private-eying for a notorious gambler, had to make a play for a wild killer’s loyal sweetheart — to unearth ninety grand in bloody...
Lovely night-club thrush Laura Lynn hires a man with a ready gun, so that when you next see her name in a column, it won’t be under —...
To trap the murder-mind who turned his frat into a slaughterhouse... brain-boy Arlin and his campus queen — played sitting...
Because he couldn’t brush off a lady, Lieutenant Jamison hunted the racketeer who’d put her boy-friend — on...
The paw of the cat — reached out for the killer of that lovely doomed blonde and closed — on...
At rare intervals we find ourselves in the odd position of publishing a book we cannot describe on the jacket flap. This is a baffling sample of the genre. On the most obvious level, it is a wry, unsentimental, perceptive account of how to co-exist...
They were racketeering vultures who’d flown the coop to Mexico — and I had to cage them as stool...
No one remembered Singer Washburn now; the years had chugged by, and the old grey train had carried him far past the time when he’d be champ, past the time when he’d be retiring. Then he saw this kid Joe, with a mean streak in him, and knew that...