Excellent condition.


1020

POCKET


THE

COMPLETE

BOOK

MEET ME

AT THE

MORGUE

A tough mystery about a kidnaping

that led to four MURDERS!

POCKET

BOOKS

INC.

JOHN ROSS MACDONALD

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"JOHN ROSS MACDONALD IS

THE FINEST WRITER OF 'HARD-

BOILED PRIVATE DETECTIVE

STORIES SINCE RAYMOND

CHANDLER....

The New York Times

"ANOTHER FINE MACDONALD

STORY... ABOVE ANY HARD-

BOILED CONTEMPORARY."

San Francisco Chronicle

Meet Me at the Morgue is the story of a kid-

naping that led to four murders. In his search

for the killer, Howard Cross digs deep into the

Los Angeles underworld, finding along the way

a beautiful, lost adolescent mourning a dead

lover, a suitcase hidden under an aging sadist's

bed, and a slovenly gentleman with an icepick in

his neck. John Ross Macdonald has never written

a story quite like this, and neither has anyone

else.

Meet Me at the Morgue was originally

published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.

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This Pocket Book includes every word contained in the

original, higher-priced edition. It is printed from brand-new

plates made from completely reset, clear, easy-to-read type.

MEET ME AT THE MORGUE

Alfred A. Knopf edition published May, 1953

Dollar Mystery Guild selection August, 1953

POCKET BOOK edition published October, 1954

1st printing...

....August, 1954

A condensed version of this novel under the title Experience with Evil

appeared in Cosmopolitan magazine, March, 1953.

L

Copyright, 1953, by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. All rights reserved. Library of

Congress Catalog Card Number: 52-12208. This POCKET Booк edition is pub-

lished by arrangement with Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Printed in the U. S. A

CKET BOOK

POCKE

Notice: POCKET BOOK editions are published in the United States by Poci

Books, Inc., in Canada by Pocket Books of Canada, Ltd. Trade Ma

registered in the United States and British Patent Offices by Pock

Books, Inc., and registered in Canada by Pocket Books of Canads L

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CAST OF CHARACTERS

FRED MINER-ex-war hero with a dead man in his

past and very little in his future.

HOWARD CROSS-probation officer whose persistent

belief in Miner astounds everyone, including him-

self

JAMIE JOHNSON-four-year-old who's worth every

penny of his $50,000 ransom..

ANN DEVON-Cross's lovely assistant who is frankly

ashamed of her feeling for.

Page

1

LARRY SEIFEL-unpredictable, self-assured lawyer

who can abandon any female-except one....

AMY MINER-a bleeding heart who is certain of her

husband's innocence for a very good reason............

ABEL JOHNSON-wealthy retired executive, who

guards his young wife's heart as carefully as he

guards his own.......

HELEN JOHNSON-who nursed and then married

Abel, since he had half a million good points in

his favor


JOE TRENTINO-a blind newsdealer with second

sight


LIEUTENANT CLEAT-who is obsessed with a hatred

of evil


FOREST-F.B.I. agent who listens efficiently and

never forgets a word..

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CAST OF CHARAC

FLORABELLE SEIFEL-too much a mother, too little

a human

SAM DRESSEN-sheriff's officer who dreads cadavers

almost as much as he dreads being turned out to

pasture

BOURKE private eye who can spot a pretty face a

mile off but miss something fishy right under his

nose

ART LEMP-who works either side of the law and

winds up with the pick of the crop..

MOLLY FAWN-a frustrated ham who acts out many

parts for many one-man audiences...

MISS HILDA TRENTON-Molly's landlady who

heard evil, saw evil, and knew no reason not to

speak of it..


KERRY SNOW-a dapper photographer who wore a

stolen suit to the most important date of his life....

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TO MY FAVORITE IN-LAWS

DOROTHY & CLARENCE

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"I'M BEAUTIFUL,"

Molly said. "Some very good

judges consider me beautiful.

I have classical measurements:

35-23-35. And I have talent...."

My nerves were pulled wire-

thin. "Shut up!" I said.

She was suddenly too quiet. I

looked away from the speeding

road and saw the automatic in

her hand,

"Stop the car," Molly ordered.

"This is the end of the ride. You

got plenty on me. You can put

me away for a long time."

"I'm not interested in putting

you away," I said. "I only want

to find a place where old men

won't beat you and young men

won't die on you."

With a quick grab, I twisted the

gun out of her hand, slipped it

into my coat pocket, and drove

her to the Neptune Hotel in

Long Beach.

Cover painting by Clark Hulings

THIS IS A

GENUINE

POCKET

BOOK


ROCKEFELLER

CENTER

NEW YORK 20, N.Y.

PRINTED IN U.S.A.

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CHAPTER

I met the boy on the morning of

the kidnapping. It was a bright and blowing day. The wind

was fresh from the sea, and the piled white cubes of the city

sparkled under a swept blue sky. I had to force myself to go

to work.

A bronze-painted sports car with a long foreign nose was

standing at the curb in front of the County Annex building.

I parked in my regular space, a few yards behind it. So far

as I knew, there was only one bronze Jaguar in town, It

belonged to Abel Johnson. I wasn't surprised when Fred

Miner, Johnson's driver, emerged from my second-floor of-

fice and started down the outside steps to the street.

Fred reached the sidewalk and turned in my direction, a

stocky man in his middle thirties who walked with a pecul-

jar stiff-backed roll. The faded Navy suntans he always wore

had darker patches on the sleeve, where his Chief's stripes

and hash-mark had been removed. His only concession to

his civilian occupation was a black, peaked chauffeur's cap,

which shadowed his eyes. He passed my car without seeing

me, his face closed in thought.

There was a yelp and a flurry of movement from the

sports car. A small boy with a head of bright red hair scram-

bled over the door and launched himself like a missile at

Fred's legs. The man's face opened in a laugh of pure de-

light. Taking the boy under the arms, he swung him upside

down in the air and set him back on his feet:

"Knock it off now, swabbie. This is no time for games.

Come to attention."

"Okay, Fred," the boy chirped. "Aye, aye, sir, I mean."

He brought his feet together and arched his back.

"Now wipe that smile off your face or I'll break you

down to apprentice seaman and take away your privileges

for fifteen years."

"

"Aye, aye, sir."