End of a Call Girl

One of our call girls is missing It sounded like a joke, but the old dame was scared stiff when one of her girls didn't show up for work that night. And this one was her prettiest—and most profitable. "Find her, shamus," she said. "And fast!" "My pleasure," I said. My name is Joe Puma. I call myself a detective and I get a hundred bucks a day. The girl's name was Jean Talsman. She called herself an entertainer and she got a hundred bucks a night. The job had delightful possibilities—until some joker started making corpses out of the customers, and I found a few dealers in sudden death camped on my own doorstep.