The Vanquished Venus

Being a private investigator means two things. You can be sure you'll run into trouble and you can never be sure you get out of it. Well, there's not much you can do about it, I guess.

Except, like Julie always says, Walk South clean, Peter Troy. Now, Peter Troy investigates the vanquished Venus. Julie has everything, I guess. Figure like a Follies girl eyes that can make you dream of faraway places, and was less as lips you ever saw.

and she can take the taste of 120 words a minute. She also has a set of rules specifically designed to keep her in private eyes and to straighten narrow. You'll meet her again because she guards the outer office of my sanctum with all the devotion of a tiger's at bay.

But for the moment I want you to think of another girl. A girl who takes you gently by the hand leads your head along into a bubbling cauldron of real trouble. Her name was Mary Strooby, only you'd know her as Leon and Laramie.

And, brother, where Mary went, applause was sure to follow. Thank you, old, thank you. And very soon, ladies and gentlemen, the judges will decide the name of the lucky lady who will be crowned Miss London Town of 1962.

Now, please stand by, and in a moment, the judges will announce the winner. It's a foregone conclusion, Coligan. The owner, Laramie, will win this contest hands down. None of the other girls come anywhere near her for looking for his hand.

The judges only have to swap ballot tickets. Leona's got it in the bag. And if amalgamated studios are let out, she'll go on and win the Miss Universe contest next year. Leona's got everything. What a girl.