Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 41, No. 4, October 1977

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A return telephone call seems a small item with which to topple a multi-billion dollar empire of crime. But with Shayne and a prodigal brunette beauty to push, underworld thrones grow shaky.

On the night Salvatore “Momo” Giancanna was assassinated in a Chicago suburb, Mike Shayne, the big Miami private investigator, a redhead with a temper, was awakened by the raucous jangle of the telephone. He buried his head in the pillow in an effort to shut out the sound. No use. Shayne swore aloud. He reached out a muscular arm and yanked the receiver off the hook.

“Shayne here. What the hell do you want? It’s three o’clock in the morning.”

“That’s why I called,” the voice at the other end said. “I wanted to be sure I’d get you in.”

“Okay. You got me in. Now what?”

“My name’s Harry Cole. Monarch Insurance Company. Special investigator on claims.”

“Never heard of you. What do you want?”

“I want to give you a chance to earn a hundred grand. Ten percent of a million dollars. Plus ten grand in front.”

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