A night-club owner gunned down at his own bar—an editor gutted with an antique switchblade—a smuggler who took five shots in the back—a millionaire whose "suicide" didn't make sense ...

Each killing left the cops high and dry—fine. Because that meant someone had to hire me, Chambers, to find the killer. For a fat fee, and you can bet I earn every dollar. And with girls like Lola, Marcia, Kathy, Angelica, and the rest, each case has such nice fringe benefits ...