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Dangerous limelight - Raymond Armstrong
1947 English hardback first edition, first impression published by John Long in London A VG++ book in VG+ unclipped dust jacket No previous owner names, clean pages and cloth Tight binding and square spine - a nice clean book The dust jacket is very clean and bright, light insignificant rubs to extremities THE MYSTERY SURROUNDING the film star who mesmerized women, and whose past was as sensational as his death, proved to be one of the strangest cases within the experience of those hardened man-hunters, Detective Inspector Dick Mason and Sergeant Cobb. Incorporated in the story of the film star with the dramatic history, is the equally mysterious chronicle of script-writer Carey Villiers and the beautiful crime specialist, Barbara Long, of New York. The two stories, both closely related, dovetail into a sensational climax, creating a dramatic twist both swift and unexpected. A lovely example with very attractive period artwork and a rare book For Sale at £27 (approx $43) *3a
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ROBS ON said: "It couldn't happen, Carey! No murderer would take the risk." He leaned back in his chair at the head of the conference table and dabbed at his red face with a silk handkerchief. His damp forehead threw back reflections from the overhead light. He said: "There's an awful fug in here, boys. Will somebody please open a window?" Sam Garrick, who had been leaning against the bookcase at the far end of the room, went leisurely to the window. A slight breeze began to stir the papers on the long table. Carey Villiers stood up. With a quick nervous movement he pushed back a lock of fair hair that had fallen over one eye. He glared first at Sam Garrick, then at Johnnie Weston. The latter was slumped up in his chair, a cigarette drooping from one side of his mouth. By the look in Johnnie's pale eyes he was hovering on the verge of sleep, as usual. "Well, why don't you guys say something?" As Carey's voice cracked like a whiplash, Johnnie's head jerked up and he became suddenly awake. Robson leaned forward. He was always at his most menacing when he spoke gently. " Take it easy, Carey. As screenplay editor here it's my job to run Jhe conference. If there's any shouting to be done, /'// do it." Smiling, he leaned back again. Stuart Robson never shouted, but he usually got his own way. Carey Villiers stood his ground. His blood was up and he meant to fight this thing out. If a man didn't stand up for himself now and again at these adjective conferences he didn't get anywhere. The wolf pack just tore him to pieces with what they called 'constructive criticism.' "It's my story," Carey rapped out, "and I'm not going to see it canned without a fight. I've got something here—" he banged the wad of paper before him with the flat of his hand so that the table shook—" something I believe in, and I'm standing by it." Garrick murmured: " It's your story and you're sticking to it, eh? Okay, go ahead." He always discussed every story |
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