He wore no topcoat—he’d gone from the phone call from me straight to his limo and here. In his early sixties, he looked like what the guy in the old Arrow Shirt ads might have aged into, movie-star handsome with steel gray hair but black eyebrows over green eyes that could eat you alive and the kind of quietly regal demeanor high officials assume when they wear the robes of office.To think that Phillip Marlowe had been pounding the pavement for years when Hammer first appeared on the scene in I, The Jury in 1947. Marlowe 'soon retired' to Poodle Springs, but not Hammer and Velda. They are in New York still fighting the good fight in 2008. That makes for a good feeling.
My two pitiful lines come from a story that has been idle for more than a year, and I can see why. It doesn't hold a candle to the fine words of Spillane but maybe if I keep working at it. Here's something from "The Suitcase":
After the drug had worn off the confined denizen, the sound of a latch sliding open inside the suitcase resonated throughout the empty diner. A small figure stepped free from the leather prison, stretching his muscles and yowling.Yowling? That probably gives away our confined denizen. And denizen? Ha! Back to the drawing board as they say.
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