Two books in one Murder in Paradise and The Coin of Adventure ''What is the meaning of 'whore?''' Ruita asked in Tahitian, anger rising in her voice. I didn't hear an answer because just then a hell of a fracas broke out at the poolside. Ruita and Kitty Merry were rolling on the white sand, punching and clawing at each other. The actress' halter was yanked off and Ruita's blouse was ripped to shreds. I ran over and pulled Ruita to her feet, blood on her gorgeous face from a deep scratch. Kitty had a puffed eye and there was blood on her over-red lips as she...
Two books in one Murder in Paradise and The Coin of Adventure ''What is the meaning of 'whore?''' Ruita asked in Tahitian, anger...
Originally published in 1952. An open and shut case of murder Matt Ranzino had sworn off sleuthing; he'd had a bellyful of violence. But when a beautiful blonde was murdered and Matt was asked to solve the crime, he took the job. When the blonde's husband committed suicide, the cops named him the killer and closed the case. But Matt smelled a put-up job. He knew the real killer -- but why risk his life to prove it? Then he met Mady, the only dame he ever really wanted. Wild, willing, and all woman, she wanted someone who was all man. There was just one hitch: Mady was linked to the...
Originally published in 1952. An open and shut case of murder Matt Ranzino had sworn off sleuthing; he'd had a bellyful of violence. But when a beaut...
She was an expensive call girl and spending a night with her came high. But he never figured on a price as high as murder. The photograph did justice to her generous statistics. Any private eye would enjoy tracking her down, and Hal Darling was no exception. Her name was Marion Lodge. She'd put her impressive body to good use as a call girl before she'd dropped out of sight almost a year before. Hal was being paid a fortune to find her. But someone else was also looking for Marion-with a knife. Hal had to get her fast, or the killer would strike first.
She was an expensive call girl and spending a night with her came high. But he never figured on a price as high as murder. The photograph did justice ...
I sat there, waiting in this dull Bronx back yard, the gun in my right pocket, safety off. It was simple... wait till he was on top of me, one shot in the heart... then run across the lot to the car. Sid had an ordinary looking heap; nobody would notice it, or the license number. The license number-that was one of the chances I had to take-one of the too-many chances. But this would work, if my luck held out. IF... IF... Damn, I hoped to hell he didn't have a wife and kids, looked too young for that, but even if he did-I had a wife and kid, too. God knows I didn't want to kill this detective,...
I sat there, waiting in this dull Bronx back yard, the gun in my right pocket, safety off. It was simple... wait till he was on top of me, one shot in...
It was my first day in Paris but the feeling was still with me: like I was getting ready to explode, as if my guts were a lit fuse racing up to my brain. Being cooped up gets me that way, although I was camped in a big room in this swank hotel. Twelve bucks a night and it was the best hotel room I'd ever been in. I'd docked at Le Havre the afternoon before, came straight to this fancy joint from Gare St. Lazare, like they told me to. I had a swell suit of clothes, an expensive big suitcase, and looked like ready money-except I had exactly forty-seven bucks on me. All I had to do was wait for...
It was my first day in Paris but the feeling was still with me: like I was getting ready to explode, as if my guts were a lit fuse racing up to my bra...
Clayton Biner had it all-swimming pools in California, haciendas in Mexico, blue evenings on the French Riviera, all the women he could use. But he wanted more. And he got it when he became involved with a vicious syndicate peddling heroin-the big H, the white "Horse." Now he was really in the big money-a three-million-dollar bundle of danger and death. Ed Lacy is one of America's all-time best selling authors, with sales of his famous, nerve-chilling books in the millions. Shoot It Again is a powerful, haunting novel of an international crime syndicate and a man trapped by his own greed and...
Clayton Biner had it all-swimming pools in California, haciendas in Mexico, blue evenings on the French Riviera, all the women he could use. But he wa...
I'm George Jackson. And this began about the time when you could still remember getting on the subway for a nickel, people were just starting to worry about the water shortage, and the current expression making the rounds was, "How corny can you get?" "How great can one be?" and the like. I know it sounds insane now, but I remember it because I found the answer to: How smart can you get? The answer to that one is easy: Too smart, brother, much too smart for your own good.
I'm George Jackson. And this began about the time when you could still remember getting on the subway for a nickel, people were just starting to worry...
Two men are killed outside the Grand Cafe on Amsterdam Avenue. There's no connection between them, but the widow of one hires Barney Harris, a 250-pound auto mechanic, to sniff out police corruption and find her husband's killer.
Two men are killed outside the Grand Cafe on Amsterdam Avenue. There's no connection between them, but the widow of one hires Barney Harris, a 250-pou...
It was a few minutes before eleven when I unlocked our door. The dumb lamp we had in the two-by-four "foyer" was on. The lamp looked like a drippy flower and cost fifty-seven bucks strictly because it was imported from Denmark. If all their lamps are like this job they must be blind over there. I could just about make out the couch opened as a bed, was surprised Mary was in the hay so early. I called out softly, "Babes?" She didn't answer.
It was a few minutes before eleven when I unlocked our door. The dumb lamp we had in the two-by-four "foyer" was on. The lamp looked like a drippy flo...
