Paperback 1129: Pocket Books 443 (11th ptg., 1953)
- Love their faces! "Fraaank ... you thinking what I'm thinking?" "Oh yeah, baby, it's murder city for hubby there. I got a foolproof plan..."
- This cover really gets across the idea that her husband is dragging her down. Physically, literally down. He's like a horny aging hell-imp come to besmirch the pure white maiden (that white is about to become superironic). Anyway, big diagonal energy in this one (from the glass on the table through the handsy Greek up through Miss Innocent and smack into Frank's cigarette-stuffed mug.
- Look at Frank there. He's like a tree. Just a straight up-and-down piece of solid wood. Actually, he seems to be emerging from a block of granite. He's got meaty hands, strangler's hands. But that t-shirt ... that's kinda jaunty. What is that, mint green? Snazzy.
- Meh, this book's trying too hard to be highbrow. Quotes from Important Sources and whatnot. Where's my florid, sleazy cover copy!? Do you think I really care what [squints] Herbert Bayard Swope has to say? I do not.
- I can't believe no one calls this story "Frank," as it literally has a "Frank" in it.
- What is "the metal of an automatic?" Is he trying to say "gun?" The "bullets?" Which part of the automatic isn't metal? And can you really not lay a gun down? Sorry, Saturday Review of Literature, you're not up to the task here. Maybe go back to reviewing Louis Bromfield or John P. Marquand or whatever.
"Even if we had gone through with it they would have guessed it. They always guess it. They guess it anyway, just from habit. Because look how quick that cop knew something was wrong. That's what makes my blood run cold. Soon as he saw me standing there he knew it. If he could tumble to it all that easy, how much chance would we have had if the Greek had died?""I guess I'm not really a hell cat, Frank."