About This Book
I had it easy--relaxing in my Morris chair, listening to jazz, and collecting paychecks from my dog Jellyroll's successful acting career. Then Manhattan Homicide South came pounding on my door, and tranquility vanished for a long, long time.
Billie Burke, my ex-lover, was dead. Beautiful, sexy Billie. I didn't like the way the cops were eyeing me. I liked the trip to the morgue even less. Then the note came: I'm dead, darling. Get out of your chair, look in the ice tray.
So I broke into her studio. I looked. And landed on a merry-go-round of drugs, blackmail, World War II flying aces, antiques, mobsters--and a growing pile of corpses. My chances of survival were hovering near zero, and the cops were on my tail. But I was so close to the truth about Billie--beautiful, mysterious, crazy Billie. I couldn't give up...
