Erle Stanley Gardner - Top of the Heap

An ingenious story.

Kirkus Reviews

One of the best in the series... An illegal casino, bogus mines, former strippers and dead bodies abound... You can only love a book where everyone gets exactly what they deserve in triplicate.

Karen Ellington, The Mystery Read

A fine elaborate business of stock manipulation and (to fit in with the current worries of us all) income tax deception.

Anthony Boucher, The New York Times

Its a neatly knotted puzzle and Donald unties it very neatly, too.

New York Herald Tribune Book Review

A fast-paced, action-packed story.

Springfield Republican

The best selling author of the century... a master storyteller.

The New York Times

Gardner is humorous, astute, curious, inventive who can top him? No one has yet.

Los Angeles Times

A fast and fiery tough tale... very very slick.

Kirkus Reviews

Erle Stanley Gardner is probably the most widely read of all... authors... His success... undoubtedly lies in the real-life quality of his characters and their problems...

The Atlantic

A clean, economical writer of peerless ingenuity.

The New York Times

One of the best selling writers of all time, and certainly one of the best-selling mystery authors ever.

Thrilling Detective

Zing, zest and zow are the Gardner hallmark. He will keep you reading at a gallop until The End.

Dorothy B. Hughes,

Mystery Writers of America Grandmaster

The blonde nervously took a cigarette case from a black bag and tapped the cigarette on the side of the polished silver. I snapped a match into flame, and she leaned forward for the light. I could see the long curling eyelashes, the mischievous glint of saucy hazel eyes, as she looked me over.

Thank you, she said.

Abruptly the floor manager glided up to the table. His smile was reassuring. I have been asked, he said, to invite you to step into the office, Miss Marvin, and the boss would like to see Mr. Lam, too.

The floor manager escorted us deferentially to a big door marked Private. He didnt come in. The door clicked shut behind us. I turned to look. There was no knob on the door.

Channing shook hands with both of us. How are you, Lam? he said.

Fine, I told him.

I didnt see Channing give the signal, but abruptly the door from the outer office opened and a man in a tuxedo stood quietly on the threshold.

Mr. Lam, Channing said, had a card when he entered the place. He doesnt wish to produce that card. Id like very much to look at it.

The newcomer reached forward and grabbed my wrist. I tried to jerk the arm free. I might as well have tried to pull against a steel cable.

Swift, efficient fingers did things to the wrist. The other hand hit against my elbow. My arm doubled around, flew up against my back, the wrist doubled into a grip that pulled the tendons until it was all I could do to keep from screaming.

The card, Channing said...

MONEY SHOT by Christa Faust

ZERO COOL by John Lange

SHOOTING STAR/SPIDERWEB by Robert Bloch

THE MURDERER VINE by Shepard Rifkin

SOMEBODY OWES ME MONEY by Donald E. Westlake

NO HOUSE LIMIT by Steve Fisher

BABY MOLL by John Farris

THE MAX by Ken Bruen and Jason Starr

THE FIRST QUARRY by Max Allan Collins

GUN WORK by David J. Schow

FIFTY-TO-ONE by Charles Ardai

KILLING CASTRO by Lawrence Block

THE DEAD MANS BROTHER by Roger Zelazny

THE CUTIE by Donald E. Westlake

HOUSE DICK by E. Howard Hunt

CASINO MOON by Peter Blauner

FAKE I.D. by Jason Starr

PASSPORT TO PERIL by Robert B. Parker

STOP THIS MAN! by Peter Rabe

LOSERS LIVE LONGER by Russell Atwood

HONEY IN HIS MOUTH by Lester Dent

QUARRY IN THE MIDDLE by Max Allan Collins

THE CORPSE WORE PASTIES by Jonny Porkpie

byErle Stanley Gardner

WRITING UNDER THE NAME A. A. FAIR

A HARD CASE CRIME BOOK

(HCC-003)

First Hard Case Crime edition: October 2004

Published by

Titan Books
A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd
144 Southwark Street
London
SE1 0UP

in collaboration with Winterfall LLC

Copyright 1952 by William Morrow & Company, Inc.

Copyright renewed 1980 by Jean Bethell Gardner

Cover art copyright 2004 by Bill Nelson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Print edition ISBN 978-0-85768-316-8
E-book ISBN 978-0-85768-381-6

Design direction by Max Phillips
www.maxphillips.net

The name Hard Case Crime and the Hard Case Crime logo are trademarks of Winterfall LLC. Hard Case Crime Books are selected and edited by Charles Ardai.

Visit us on the web at www.HardCaseCrime.com

I was in the outer office, standing by the files, doing some research on a blackmailer, when he came in, all six feet of him.

He wore a plaid coat, carefully tailored, pleated slacks, and two-tone sport shoes. He was built like a secondhand soda straw, and I heard him say he wanted to see the senior partner. He said it with the air of a man who always demands the best, and then settles for what he can get.

The receptionist glanced at me hopefully, but I was deadpan. Bertha Cool was the senior partner.

The senior partner? she asked, still keeping an eye on me.

Thats right. I believe it is B. Cool, he announced, glancing toward the names painted on the frosted glass of the doorway to the reception room.

She nodded and plugged in to B. Cools phone. The name? she asked.

He drew himself up importantly, whipped an alligatorskin card case from his pocket, took out a card, and presented it to her with a flourish.

She puzzled over it for a moment as though having difficulty getting it interpreted. Mr. Billings?

Mr. John Carver Billings the

Bertha Cool answered the phone just then, and the girl said, A Mr. Billings. A Mr. John Carver Billings to see you.

The Second, he interposed, tapping the card. Cant you read? The Second!

Oh, yes, she said, the Second.

That evidently threw Bertha Cool for a loss. Apparently she wanted an explanation.

The Second, the girl repeated into the phone. Its on his card that way, and thats the way he says it. His name is John Carver Billings, and then there are two straight lines after the Billings.

The man frowned impatiently. Send my card in, he ordered.

The receptionist automatically ran her thumbnail over the engraving on the card and said, Yes, Mrs. Cool, into the telephone.