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 gold.
John D. MacDonald
In the clammy recesses of the cement stairwell, she discovered the terrifying truth: she was the patsy, and her role was to die — screaming!
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 burned!
Well, he was losing weight and always hungry, Michael Rigsby told his wife. But Annabelle wasn’t alarmed. She was disgustingly cheerful...
Professor Quotient’s quiz act suddenly pays off in grim murder, with a baffling mystery as the jackpot question!
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 — obituaries!
To trap the murder-mind who turned his frat into a slaughterhouse... brain-boy Arlin and his campus queen — played sitting duck.