Dead Wrong

By Frank Kane

Hardboiled detective Johnny Liddell comes up against another tough case—this once an insurance racket. If the death was an accident, Bob Horton inherits big. But if it was murder...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wildside Press
• Release date: Feb 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781479471430

Frank Kane

Frank Kane (1912–1968) was the author of the Johnny Liddell mystery series, including Dead Weight, Trigger Mortis, Poisons Unknown, and many more. 

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COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

DEAD WRONG by Frank Kane

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

New elements copyright © 2022 by Wildside Press LLC.

Originally published in 1961.

Published by Wildside Press LLC.

wildsidepress.com | bcmystery.com

DEAD WRONG

by Frank Kane

It was a three-story walk-up. By the time Johnny Liddell knocked on the door to 3D, he was panting heavily. It was just as well — he would have anyway the minute the door opened.

She was tall, with coppery red hair framing a heart-shaped face. A light-blue dressing gown did a half-hearted job of containing a breathtaking façade. She was high-breasted and the way the sway of her torso traced designs on the dressing gown, it was apparent she wore little, if anything, underneath it. Her trim, small waist and high-set hips gave some hint of the long, shapely legs the gown did manage to cover.

Johnny Liddell? Her voice was low, caressing. She studied him from slanted green eyes, from under expertly tinted lids. Her lips were full, moist.

What’s left of him. He looked back down the stairwell. That’s quite a defense gadget you’ve got there. More effective than a chastity belt.

The redhead grinned again, stepped aside. But not as permanent. She took his hat, tossed it at a table. Sit down, I’ll make you a drink.

He tottered to a chair, dropped into it.

Any preference?

In liquor? Scotch.

She turned, headed for the kitchen. He watched the easy play of her hips against the clinging fabric of the gown, started to feel better. When she returned, the effect from the front was equally revitalizing. She carried a bottle, two glasses and some ice on a tray, set them down on the coffee table in front of him. The devastating dip of the front of her gown as she set the tray down completed his cure, so that the Scotch would not have been needed.

He watched while she tilted the bottle over each of the glasses, dropped in a couple of pieces of ice. She picked up his glass, swirled the liquor over the ice, handed it to him.

Mr. Liddell-

Johnny.

She smiled, shrugged.