The Indian Giver

Get this and get it straight. Crime is a sucker's road and those who travel it wind up in the gutter the prison of the grave. It started with an Indian gift of a piece of pottery and led to a brown bear in Moccasins, an archaeologist much laughing water and finally death in an alley.

But just to make matters worse the Indian giver was a female and 100% genuine hot-blooded Apache. From the pen of Raymond Chandler, outstanding author of Mystery Comes, famous character and crimes most deadly enemy as we present the adventures of Philip Marlow now with Gerald Moore starred as Philip Marlow we bring you tonight's exciting

story the Indian giver by day the industrial heart of any city is just so much steel and stone streets jammed full with a rocker sounds of a thousand one different machines but by night all of that is gone and there are only endless smooth sighted lonely Kenyans that overflow with a steady humming silence that everywhere hangs like

a distant echo of the day that's passed. And Los Angeles was no exception at nine o'clock at night, as I pulled up and parked in front of a graced curtain store front on a deserted downtown street that marked the showroom of the wholesale curio dealer who would telephone my office an hour earlier.

And in a Dutch accent laced tight with worried urge me to call on him at once. A raised gold lettering on a side door that showed a strip of yellow light at the threshold. Said Alex Van Nord, private, in an ornate 18th century script.

So when I knocked I was ready for something continental with thick bifocal glasses. And the door swung open my jaw, dropped to my chest. But I couldn't help gaping because the huge, Viva man in front of me, in cheap snug clothes white dark hair, dark skin and darker eyes, had to be no less than a full-blooded American Indian,