Bedford Drive

By Charles Jacobson Los Angeles: Friday, April 4, 1958. 8:06 pm. Detective Ken Stricker left his ailing mother at the Valley Hospital, put on a coat and slid into his black ’56 Packard. Vice had been quiet. He caught a 273 and 314 on the scanner, switched it off and dialed in Guy Lombardo. VeeringContinue reading “Bedford Drive”

Sweet Little Straight Razor

By Michael Fontana It was after midnight and rain beat my head like tympani.  I checked my look in a shop window: mid-thirties, five-ten, black haired, green eyed and gaunt, nose flattened to my face from a case where it was broken by a punch from a semi-professional football player, a woman who seemed atContinue reading “Sweet Little Straight Razor”