When the guy with asthma finally came in from the fire escape, Parker rabbit-punched him and took his gun away.
Richard StarkFrom Chapter 1:
The main rub was the lack of RnR and I burned out. Three years and three stripes later, I ejected from the MP Corps, vowing I'd never do police or criminal investigative work again. Instead, I returned home when I should've learned better.
Tags: mystery suspense thriller noir private-detective
Shouldering the duffel bag with the Marine Corps bulldog, Old Man knocked Jan's photo off the bed table. He turned to stone staring down at the photo. His face then splintered into hurt. Tears seeped into his eyes. He grappled for the nearest bedpost and slumped forward on extended arms. His shoulders jerked and head sagged a little while his heart broke. Old Man cried the mute cry of men of his generation.
Ed LynskeyTags: men romance suspense noir private-detective thrillers-mystery whodunit
So that's the way you scientific detectives work. My god! for a fat, middle-aged, hard-boiled, pig-headed guy, you've got the vaguest way of doing things I ever heard of.
Dashiell HammettI cadged a complimentary green matchbook with a gold bird icon from the Bell canning jar. Later we'd use the matches to light our spliffs. My fingertips tapped the stem to the gizmo that dinged a bell. Nobody came out. Wrong signal, so I did two bell rings. No response prompted me to tap out a series of bell rings.
Ed LynskeyTags: adventure action mystery crime suspense noir smoky-mountains
Call me Dudley. We're of equal rank. I'm older, but you're far better looking. I can tell we're going to be grand partners.
James EllroyTags: noir crime-fiction dudley-smith l-a-quartet
Sam Spade is as gray as the economic skies over America and moves through the story as cool and slick as a Teflon cat.
Stephen SullivanThe rain fell like dead bullets.
Scott NicholsonTags: rain depression noir bullets crow-like
Ever since I could remember, She was all that mattered.
James J. CaterinoTags: science-fiction noir femme-fatale
I had a funny feeling as I saw the house disappear, as though I had written a poem and it was very good and I had lost it and would never remember it again.
Raymond ChandlerTags: crime noir marlowe chandler
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