RICHARD S. PRATHER | |
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BODIES IN BEDLAM
A SHELL SCOTT MYSTERY!
She was a red-hot starlet at Magna Studios.
She didn't have a gun. She didn't need one. She had all the weapons that have ruined men since time immemorial and she knew how to use them.
But she had been photographed one time too many and a man had had his throat slit for it.
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EVERYBODY HAD A GUN
A SHELL SCOTT MYSTERY!
Breed turned to Flick. "Work on the girl. Maybe that'll get him started talking." Flick walked over in front of Iris, and grinned. She looked straight back at him. Then he slapped her twice, hard. Her head snapped back, her eyes glared, her red lips sneered. What she thought of Flick was spread all over her face. He drew back his right arm. I saw the doubled up fist. I watched the girl flinch as the fist drew back. "Hold it!" I yelled. "Stop him, Breed. I'll talk."
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