The Claws Of The Minx

Being a private investigator means two things. You can be sure you'll run into trouble and you can never be sure you'll get out of it. But much you can do about it I guess except like Julie always says, Walk South, please, please, Detroit. And now Peter Troy investigates the claws for the minks. Julie, as she's the gal who pounds

the V-DEP typewriter in the front office, never liked Ilona from the start. But I I guess that's because they're two entirely different types of women. My secretary's a cute little redhead with a turned up nose and dimples, and well, she really is a honey.

On the other hand, Elona... Well, to start off with, Elona is usually clothed from head to toe by Christian Dior, and Elona is tall and slim and blonde. She has a pair of ice blue eyes set under long, luscious lashes.

And those eyes could turn a red-blooded man into a dithering idiot in just two seconds flash. At least that's what Julie thought they did to me. But I like to think I was in complete control of the situation right from the start. That's what I like to think.

Mr. Pemberton, would you mind reading that clause in my uncle's will once again please? no, certainly Miss Myers. Thank you. I, Daniel Quentin Myers, being of Sigmai... I'll skip that and get to the significant part. I, yes, I, I take you to mean this. Do hereby bequeath my estates, monies and assets to my niece, Ilona Anne Myers, in their entirety,

the on condition that for the period of seven days following the reading of this will, she She can prove beyond any doubt that she can stay out of trouble, not be fined for speeding or drunken behaviour, or have any of her escapades reported in the press, or attract the attention of the law in any detrimental way during that time.