By Henry Kane
Originally released in 1948
When a lush brunette turns up without notice useless in a stranger’s mattress, and an vintage broker (who is “mostly legit”) settles down in a simple chair with a dagger in his again, and a big-time gambler drops all bets at the kitchen flooring in a pool of blood—then Peter Chambers, fiction’s such a lot crowd pleasing, hard-boiled inner most eye, unearths himself staked out as sufferer quantity four in a pricey online game of dying and overseas intrigue.
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Additional resources for Armchair in Hell (Peter Chambers)
As soon as he discovered them, he realized he had entered the tenth circle of hell. Parallel little comments, deaf to each other, all in the same format, laconic and sickeningly hostile. Mediocrity had found its voice: the comments on the Internet. He wasn’t even being insulted. He would have liked to be able to rage and complain about the way he was treated. But he wasn’t even interesting enough for these sick fashionistas to launch campaigns against him. He was reduced to writing under a pseudonym, a few words of subtly critical praise for himself on the literary forums and blogs.
I think she’s even hiding a smile by the end, seeing the look on my face. We’re blocked by a delivery truck that’s created a small traffic jam. I sulk and look out of the window. Some morons are hooting their horns behind us. Three young girls cross the road. Parisian style on the cheap. Slim, longlegged, fashionable little furry boots, big busts, and big tote bags with fringes. Cut-price copies of authentically rich sluts from the Marais, the kind who put on a tarty look but make you think of ads for perfume, not of little working-class girls from the projects.
The Hyena gives them a thumbs up, to show she thinks they look good, and also sees fit to insist, yelling, “Hiya girls! ” They hurry on and don’t burst into nervous giggles until they’re about a hundred feet away. ” As if that was the problem. “I like girls. I like girls too much. ” “Don’t you think they might feel insulted getting whistled at in the street? “Insulted? No, they’re hets, they’re used to being treated like dogs, they think it’s normal. But it’s a nice change to hear it from a superb specimen like me.