Under Cover E-Book

Carroll John Daly

• Herausgeber: Black Mask
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

When Race Williams receives a note to meet in the dead hours of the night on an abandoned roadside, he is leery of the setup. And then a mysterious call warns him that someone will try to kill him tonight. In the Confidential Agent’s mind, if some bird really wanted the opportunity to bump off Race Williams, he'd be willing to give him the chance. But, from what the city knows about Race Williams and his .44, the chances were against the bird. So Race takes the bait, but the thug he meets quickly finds his way to the grave. On the thug’s body, Race finds the torn corner of a thousand dollar bill, and Williams’ curiosity is piqued. The game was just beginning. Story #11 in the Race Williams series.Carroll John Daly (1889–1958) was the creator of the first hard-boiled private eye story, predating Dashiell Hammett's first Continental Op story by several months. Daly's classic character, Race Williams, was one of the most popular fiction characters of the pulps, and the direct inspiration for Mickey Spillane's Mike Hammer.

Leseprobe

Under Cover

Race Williams book #11

A Black Mask Classic

by

Carroll John Daly

Black Mask

Copyright Information

© 2017 Steeger Properties, LLC. Published by arrangement with Steeger Properties, LLC, agent for the Estate of Carroll John Daly.

Publication History:

“Under Cover” originally appeared in the December 1925 and January 1926 issues of Black Mask magazine.

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the publisher.

“Race Williams” is a trademark of the Estate of Carroll John Daly. “Black Mask” is a trademark of Steeger Properties, LLC, and registered with the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.

Under Cover

Chapter 1

Some cases come directly to the office; others I go out and get—a few come by mail. This one did, but the main item had been overlooked. Good clients say what they want to say on the face of a check; this lad had wind enough but was short on figures. I leaned back in my office chair and read the note again. The spelling at least was refreshing.

Just a desire to meet me that night on the lonely road behind the golf links at Van Cortlandt—the hour, one-thirty A.M. Now, the thing itself was childish. I have as many enemies as a shad has eggs. This was one of them, trying what he thought was an original idea. The warning of great secrecy was in the note—also the promise of a liberal amount of jack. But the backwoods spoiled it—might as well have been a back room on the Avenue. I was onto the duck who wrote that note the minute I lamped it.