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A cold, ruthless racketeer, Dillon had risen from lackey gunman to Kansas City boss. Now he was big time, big money. But then Dillon started living it up with two young beauties - and began to make mistakes. And once Dillon's guard was down, an outsi .. read more

A cold, ruthless racketeer, Dillon had risen from lackey gunman to Kansas City boss. Now he was big time, big money. But then Dillon started living it up with two young beauties - and began to make mistakes. And once Dillon's guard was down, an outsider got his chance to pull a gruesome doubletake. Death was right around the corner... Dillon didn't take his eyes off the exit to the dark alley. He went on, keeping his gun ready. The open street ahead of him, the deep shadows, and the knowledge that death was waiting for him made his nerves tingle. Quite suddenly two men sprang into the alley. Dillon could see them outlined against a street light. Instantly, he started firing before his brain telegraphed to his hand. One of the men tossed up his hands and fell forward, but the other ducked out of sight - now more determined than ever to see Dillon dead. Dillon has been out of the rackets for some time ; now he was ready to carve his way back in. Ambitious, cold-blooded, impatient, he just needed a start, and one or two unlucky people to help him on his way. He found them. Like Nick Gurney and Roxy, small-time operators who reckoned Dillon was the coming man... Myra, the curvaceous boxer's daughter tired of small-town life and reckless for excitement... and Hurst, the racketeer who ruled half a city. One way and another, they all helped Dillon, while Dillon helped himself. He didn't hear any complaints either, for a long time. read less