Charmingly insidious, satisfyingly devious 100 Malicious Little Mysteries is the perfect book to fit your most malevolent mood. Each story has its own particular and irresistible appeal — that unexpected twist, a delectable puzzle, a devastating revelation, or perhaps a refreshing display of pernicious spite. These stories by some of the many well-known writers in the field, including Michael Gilbert, Edward Wellen, Edward D. Hack, Bill Pronzini, Lawrence Treat and Francis Nevins

If you don't shudder with every twist and sudden thrust of these 16 terror tales… if you are able to turn off your bedside lamp after closing this volume and drift off to a deep, dreamless sleep… if you can drink your morning coffee without thinking there just might be a peculiarly bitter taste to it, or turn your back on your spouse or best friend without feeling a funny itching between your shoulder blades… then that lovable old master of menace, Alfred Hitchcock, apologizes and personally guarantees you your full payment in horror. All you have to do is meet him in the cemetery under the next murderer's moon…

Harrowing tales of mayhem, murder versus moonshine acting as counter irritants and prescribed by spine-tingling specialists chosen for you this month by the MASTER OF SUSPENSE

Dan Fancy had fashioned a perfect frame for a crime giant when he went after Big Jim Calhoun. But how could it fit the grim picture, when the boss’s victim seemed to prefer his death-cell to the good air of freedom?

“You still haven’t searched my person,” she said. “The warrant says ‘the premises and person of Beverly Arden.’” “It’s a pleasant thought,” Sergeant Matt Rudd said dryly, “but women have to be searched by matrons.” “Don’t be silly,” Beverly said. “You can’t search a woman forcibly, but you have my permission...” Rudd hesitated. “All right,” he said, “hold your arms straight out.” He ran his hands along her arms and sides and down her legs. She felt firm and shapely, and when he finished he was perspiring slightly. “I guess you’re clean,” he said huskily. “You didn’t do nearly as thorough a job as you did on the apartment,” she said. There was a momentary pause, as Rudd took her in with his eyes. “All right,” he said. Then he reached out and loosened the top button of her pajama top

Death called a day early for Maida — and wore a madman’s face!

Manville Moon thought the process through step by step as he trained his pistol on a desperate killer. Here was the climax of a case in which the life of a young man had already been taken, and the life of a young heiress hung by a hair. Actually, Moon got off one of the fastest snap-shots in history, and went on to wrap up the case for the most beautiful client he ever had

Two gambling kingpins go to war — and Manville Moon is caught in the middle When an upstart gangster named Byron Wade threatens Louis Bagnell’s gambling empire, Bagnell attempts to hire Manville Moon, a detective whose loss of a leg has not diminished his reputation as a tough guy. Preferring to remain neutral, Moon turns down Bagnell’s offer and refuses Wade’s as well. But Wade does not want another gunman. He wants a sleuth — to investigate his own murder, should the coming war leave him dead. They are negotiating over a platter of chop suey when Louis Bagnell turns up murdered. Was Wade using Moon as an alibi, or did Bagnell’s killer come from within his own gang? Double-crosses come faster than bullets in this twisting novella, but even on one leg, Manville Moon will have no trouble keeping up

Wednesday, April 16th — 8:32 A.M. Frank and I sped over to West Sixth and Bixel. When we got there the shooting was over. One cop was dead, another wounded. No sign of either suspect. We exchanged grim looks. The gang’s take was now nearly a quarter million. From a letter we’d taken from one of the syndicate, we knew their goal was half a million — then they’d head for Honduras and we’d lose them for good

Her one request: “Treat me like a tramp.”

Only Mr. Moon, dizzy murder specialist, would dust off the hot squat for his pal, Mouldy — then try it on, himself, for size!

Richard Deming (1915–1983) wrote prolifically for magazines (more than 200 short stories) as well as for major book publishers (more than two dozen novels, ranging from original crime novels to media tie-ins (Dragnet and The Mod Squad) to even a pseudonymous nautical series involving submarines. He was a meticulous professional who never disappointed readers

Betty Case opened her eyes, fear gripping her. She lay very still for a moment, listening. Then she heard the sound again, like someone walking on the roof. Instantly she thought of the cat burglar, who’d been terrorizing his victims with an axe. She sat up and reached for the gun under her pillow. A rasping sound came from the hall window; the she heard footsteps outside the bedroom door. She held her breath, her eyes straining in the darkness, her hand gripping the gun tighter. Suddenly the door opened. A shadowy figure stood there, a glittering blade in his hand. Betty screamed and pulled the trigger — setting off a chain of events that enmeshed her deeper and deeper in a vicious game of murder and violence

Too many bodies... — spoil even the best of parties... unless, of course, it’s one of Miss Sedalia’s exclusive soirees — for murderers only!

It was just Manny Moon’s luck — or misfortune — that he decided to dine at El Patio the evening the Lieutenant Governor was shot