Death Is a Knockout

I hope I haven't kept you waiting. Yes, this is the crime club. I'm the librarian. Death is a knockout. Yes, we have that story for you. Come right over. You're here. Take the easy chair by the window. Comfortable? The manuscript is on this shelf. Here it is. Death There's a knockout.

A very exciting story of a golden opportunity that was melted down by murder. Let's look at it under the reading lamp. It was the night of the Joey Troy Billy Sampson light heavyweight boxing match.

And the crowd was already pushing into Madison Square Garden filling it up. A few blocks away, another match was taking place in a small cafe. Between Hank Barnum, a sports writer, and lovely Ann Cooper, a reporter.

Fuck Pete's sake and you might try to be reasonable. Don't tell me, Hank. You're a personal friend of Pop Heaven, Joey Troy's manager. You were the first one to give Joey Troy a break in print.

There are no more tickets left. No. Why didn't you ask me a few days ago? I might have been able to swing a pass. I didn't see what I see now. Oh, what do you see now?

A human interest story? The romance between Joey Troy and that girl of his. What's your name? Mabel Smith. Oh, yeah. But Anne, that's been going on for years. I told you all about it. It was never important until tonight.

And tonight? I've got a yend to do a feature. Joey Troy, the brainless wonder, fighting for a crack at the champ. Tonight, Billy Sampson. Next year, the champ, who pushed him up the cliff to those dizzy heights?