Mystery and Crime McPartland, John: Affair in Tokyo. v1, 18 May 2008

[Dr. Drib]

This title was released under a Creative Commons License, with additional acknowledgement placed at the end of the book. Book was acquired from Munseys, BUT REFORMATED BY ME TO MY SPECIFICATIONS.
________________________________________


The night was dark.

The streets around me gleamed with a dampness like the sweat one sees on a repairman’s ass as he bends down to fix the plumbing. At the corner she stood there, her shadow dark and menacing. Held in her left hand was the dreaded object, the thing that would cause the downfall of Western Civilization. I walked up to her.

“What’ll you have tonight, Johnny?” I couldn’t place the accent but it sounded ominous, as if she had been born in Texas.

“I want it,” I said. “I want it bad.”

She seemed to pause for a moment and then, with a careless shake of her hair that looked like the color of midnight oil, she handed me the book.

I looked at the lurid cover. “Yes,” I said with satisfaction. “Affair in Tokyo. You did good, baby.” And then, impulsively, I mashed my lips against her lips and then started to read. Just for the hell of it, I started on page one.
_____________
Ok, have fun.

Don

This work is in the Canadian public domain OR the copyright holder has given specific permission for distribution. It may still be under copyright in some countries. If you live outside Canada, check your country's copyright laws. If the book is under copyright in your country, do not download or redistribute this work.

To report a copyright violation you can contact us here.

[Donnageddon]

LOL!! Thanks for the "intro" Dr.!

[BelleZora]

For those who care:

First published as Fawcett Gold Medal #406, 1954. Cover Artist: Clark Hulings

Back blurb:

WERCOM GI

HAVE DAM HOT TIME –

The Tokyo route, they called it – the girl, the drinking, the needle – and even the Americans went for it. Most of them ended in the stockades, gray, rotten husks of men, trembling with the heroin need, or face down in the black canals that lace the city.

Like Lonesome Lee almost did.
I know. I’m Lee, and the intimate evil of postwar Japan left its mark on me.

And on my red-haired love – as we fled hand in hand from murder.