The car was hot, and so was the blonde who drove it. A smart shamus like Rusty Forbes should have known better than to hole up with her in a tourist cabin. By the time that little picnic was over, he found himself custodian of a corpse-and on the trail of enough loot to stock a department store. Too bad for Rusty that some of Chicago's rougher citizens viewed the situation with alarm. It wasn't enough that the corpse brought the cops down on him. He also had to battle a horde of hoodlums... Fortunately, the hot blonde had a cool friend-even bigger and blonder. She gave Rusty, among other...

The Golden Spoon was strictly for suckers. Located a block north of the river in a renovated three-story building, it sported a white-and-red striped canopy which stretched from plate-glass door to curb, a huge tri-colored neon sign which flashed Follies Parisienne-Twenty Beautiful Girls-No Cover Charge, and a sharp-eyed doorman with the build of a heavyweight pug and more brass buttons than a general. As I approached, he pulled back the door with his right hand and exposed the white-gloved palm of his left hand, all in one smooth synchronized movement. I ignored the hungry palm, nodded, and...

Armchair fiction presents extra large paperback editions of the best in classic Mystery-Crime novels. Here's another murder mystery, "A Dame Called Murder," is by veteran whodunit author, Milton Ozaki. There was some kind of new racket in town, and private detective Max Keene decided it was in his own best interest to find out who the big boss was. Not that he didn't care about breaking the back of an organized theft ring, but when one of the ring's gorgeous young female operatives wound up dead in a sexually charged homicide and Max got fingered, it gave him an added "incentive" to bring the...