Murder Ain't Minor (The Case of Bonnie Goodwin)

I hope St. Peter's listening. This report may one day help qualify me for that pass with a pearly gate. This case almost rushed me up there. This is another adventure of America's fabulous freelance insurance investigator Johnny Dollar.

At insurance investigation, Johnny Dollar is just an expert. At making out his expense account, he is an absolute genius. Its friends account submitted by special investigator Johnny Dollar. Two? Special investigator Johnny Dollar. This one's on the house.

I wouldn't even bother itemizing it, except that the whole thing is proudly packed deductibles. The following is an accounting of my expenditures during my investigation of Bonnie Goodwin. Or, she was under 21, but that didn't mean she was involved with nothing but minor bikers.

Or, murder 8-minor. Mr. Count, item 1. $12.40. Gotch Whisky and cigars, concealed at surprise party, arranged for me by one Mr. King of Hearts. At my apartment in Hartford, Connecticut, at 125 in the morning.

Well, over you. Which one of us is in the wrong apartment? Neither one of us. I'm King Hart. I came to have New York to see. I hope you don't mind my helping myself with cigar while I was waiting.

No, no, no. I'd even join you in a drink of my scotch. Only I don't think I could squeeze it out of the cork. I'll fund you a case. I'll send you a copy of your pasty, what are you?

I can drop it on you sometimes. This verge is on the illegal. Let's not waste time trying to scare each other, huh? Let's talk business. What is your business? Well, that verge is on the legal.

That's why I need you. In your racket, you're well enough known to do me some good. In mine, I'm too well known to do it myself. So what? Find a girl for me. Oh, wait a minute.