#Crime stories

[atomic-chronoscaph]

Stag magazine illustrations by Mort Künstler (1950s, 1960s)

[everythingsecondhand]

Snobbery With Violence, by Colin Watson (Eyre Methuen, 1979)

From a charity shop in Nottingham.

[retropopcult]

November 1946

[scirqle]

Recreating a scene from frank miller’s Sin City, with some of my own flourishes. Sketched on iPad using procreate.

[kayotickp]

[pulpsandcomics2]

Detective and Murder Mysteries September 1937

[dddragoni-drabbles]

1:43 AM: Error: invalid entry code entered at NE door. 1:44 AM: Error: invalid entry code entered at NE door. 1:47 AM: Error: invalid entry code entered at NE door. 1:48 AM: Unauthorized entry attempt at NE door. Security droids 22E, 44S, 88J deployed. 1:52 AM: Security Droid 44S connection lost. 1:53 AM: Security Droid 22E connection lost. 1:56 AM: Security Droid 88J connection lost. 1:58 AM: NE door opened by Security Droid 44S. 2:03 AM: Error: Security Droid 44S is not permitted to enter High Security Area Beta. 2:08 AM: NE door opened by Security Droid 44S. 2:10 AM: NE door opened by Security Droid 88J. 2:15 AM: High Security Area Beta door opened by Security Droid 88J. 2:17 AM: Director's Office door opened by Security Droid 88J. 2:19 AM: Damage to wall of Director's Office detected. Maitenance ticket created. 2:25 AM: Damage to item: Director's Safe detected. Maintenance ticket created. 2:26 AM: Director's Office door opened by Security Droid 88J. 2:28 AM: Director's Office door opened by Security Droid 88J. 2:31 AM: Damage to item: Omega Chamber detected. Maintenance ticket created. 2:31 AM: Foreign contaminant detected in Omega Chamber. Initiating facility lockdown. 2:33 AM: Damage to wall of Director's Office detected. Maitenance ticket created. 2:34 AM:: Damage to wall of Director's Office detected. Maitenance ticket created. 2:36 AM: Damage to item: Director's Desk detected. Maintenance ticket created. 2:45 AM: System logon successful. Welcome, user NULL. 2:45 AM: Error: cannot open door during facility lockdown. 2:46 AM: Command not recognized. 2:46 AM: Command not recognized. 2:48 AM: Shutdown initiated. SYSTEM OFFLINE.

[pulpman2]

Flowing White Dress

As Alice Carr, Private Detective, part-time reporter, socialite and general busy body, stepped out of her sporty yellow number, she eyed the Wilton Club House with a mixture of irritation and envy. Larry Stewart, playboy, would-be Republican Senator and, as Alice was determined to prove, corrupt insider trader, had taken refuge in this male-only domain. Alice seethed. This was 1952! she fumed to herself. How much longer were men to be allowed to mess up the world from the privacy of their exclusive billiard rooms and golf courses? Nothing daunted, the red headed PI followed the carpark around the side of the building, reckoning if she coukd find a trade entrance she could, once in the place, yet pass herself off as a cleaner or caterer and get close to Stewart that way.

As she entered a poorly lit section of the environs, all crumbling tarmac and flickering standing lamps, Alice was suddenly gripped hard by the wrist. The woman pulled away immediately, assuming her assailant to be a masher, a type she was used to depositing on the seat of his pants, but before getting into self defence for women mode, Alice noticed the dull grey metal of a gun in the man’s other hand. She paused, unresisting as the leering face of an identikit thug came into focus, “You ask too many questions, sweet cheeks,” his gravelly voice said, “and my job is to put you on ice.” The detective needed no second warning. She pulled down hard with her gripped wrist, unbalancing the man and as she did so, she braced her right leg to bring her left swinging round hard in a roundhouse kick. As she felt her low-heeled foot connect satisfyingly with the jaw of the surprised man, she thanked her decion to drop the tight skirt she had originally plannned to wear tonight for the benefit of the doorman, in exchange for a flowing white dress that allowed maximum movement for her shapely, but deadly, nyloned legs.

The man slumped to the ground, his gun falling from his limp hand. Alice scooped it up and trained it on the thug as he stared resentfully up at the woman, still dazed. “You really need to get into practice, pal” Alice laughed, “my younger sister could take you out and she’s a Sunday School teacher!” The man glowered at her. “Get lost, witch!” he snarled. Alice grinned back at him. “I think I’d better better get you tied and gagged and into the trunk of your car, jerk.” she replied cheerily. “Care to flip it open while I find some stockings in my purse to waste on you?”

*

Later, Alice slammed the trunk of the car closed on the furious Mmmmmphs! emanating from her nylon-bound and gagged erstwhile attacker. Now she knew she was onto something, she reflected, and clearly getting close. ‘Maybe this time I can earn my bonus and get a Pulitzer!’ she thought to herself with an expectant smile. Alice noticed a door ajar at the side of the building. “Open Sesame…” she breathed.

My interpretation of the story behind this cover to Kidnap-Murder of Patricia Ann Cook, True Detective magazine (October 1952). Art by Mort Kuntsler

[joncronshawauthor]

Capers and Castles: A Guide to the 10 Must-Read Fantasy Novels Featuring Thieves

Fantasy novels often offer a unique twist to traditional crime stories, and tales about thieves are no exception. Whether it’s a heist gone wrong, a daring escape, or a cunning scheme, these stories are full of action, suspense, and thrilling twists. Here are ten must-read fantasy novels about thieves that will keep you on the edge of your seat: 1. “The Lies of Locke Lamora” by Scott…

[mythawolf]

Is it concerning that I've thought of multiple methods of committing crimes to use in stories that could actually work on real life?

[atomic-chronoscaph]

art by Samson Pollen (1960s-1970s)

[factfinders]

Learn about some weird crime stories:

[balu88r-blog]

Crime : ಪತ್ನಿಯನ್ನು ಕುಂಭಮೇಳಕ್ಕೆ ಕರೆದುಕೊಂಡು ಹೋಗಿ ಕೊಲೆ ಮಾಡಿದ ಪತಿ, ಆತನು ಕಥೆ ಕಟ್ಟಿದ್ದು, ಸಿನೆಮಾ ಸ್ಟೋರಿಗಿಂತ ಕಡಿಮೆಯಿಲ್ಲ…!

Crime – ನಮ್ಮ ನಿಜ ಜೀವನದಲ್ಲಿ ನಡೆಯುವಂತಹ ಕೆಲವೊಂದು ಘಟನೆಗಳು ಸಿನೆಮಾ ಸ್ಟೋರಿಗಿಂತಲೂ ವಿಭಿನ್ನವಾಗಿರುತ್ತದೆ. ಇಲ್ಲೊಂದು ಘಟನೆ ಅದಕ್ಕೆ ಉತ್ತಮ ಉದಾಹರಣೆ ಎಂದೇ ಹೇಳಬಹುದಾಗಿದೆ. ವ್ಯಕ್ತಿಯೋರ್ವ ತನ್ನ ಪತ್ನಿಯನ್ನು ಮಹಾಕುಂಭ ಮೇಳಕ್ಕೆ ಕರೆದುಕೊಂಡು ಹೋಗಿ ಕೊಲೆ ಮಾಡಿದ್ದಾನೆ. ಬಳಿಕ ಮಕ್ಕಳ ಬಳಿ ಬಂದು ನಿಮ್ಮ ತಾಯಿ ಕಳೆದುಹೋಗಿದ್ದಾಳೆ ಎಂಬ ಕಥೆ ಕಟ್ಟಿದ್ದಾನೆ. ಆ ವ್ಯಕ್ತಿ ಕಟ್ಟಿ ಕಥೆ ಸಿನೆಮಾ ಸ್ಟೋರಿಗಿಂತಲೂ ಕಡಿಮೆಯಿಲ್ಲ ಎಂದೇ ಹೇಳಬಹುದಾಗಿದೆ. ಸುಮಾರು 60 ಕೋಟಿಗೂ ಅಧಿಕ ಮಂದಿ ಉತ್ತರ…

[pier-carlo-universe]

Primo a Morire – James Patterson. Un thriller avvincente tra crimini, investigazione e un team di donne coraggiose. Recensione di Alessandria today

James Patterson inaugura con Primo a Morire una delle sue saghe più iconiche, Il Club Omicidi delle Donne, regalando ai lettori un thriller avvincente che mescola tensione, azione e indagini brillanti

James Patterson inaugura con Primo a Morire una delle sue saghe più iconiche, Il Club Omicidi delle Donne, regalando ai lettori un thriller avvincente che mescola tensione, azione e indagini brillanti. Un romanzo che cattura dalla prima all’ultima pagina, con una protagonista forte e determinata, capace di sfidare i pregiudizi e portare avanti la sua battaglia per la giustizia. Biografia…

[pulpsandcomics2]

Exciting Mystery October 1942

[dddragoni-drabbles]

(Content warnings: Torture)

Jared Rolston awoke to the sensation of cold water being splashed on his face. He jolted forward with a start- or at least he would have if he could. He was sitting in some sort of chair, metal by the feel of it, with leather straps pulled so tight around his wrists, ankles, chest, and forehead that he couldn't move. He was naked, the clothes he'd been wearing when he fell asleep nowhere to be seen, and the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling didn't provide enough light to make out much of his surroundings.

"Good morning, Mr. Rolston. Did you sleep well? I hope so. Because it's the last chance you'll get for a good long while."

The voice came from behind Rolston- he strained against the restraints, trying to see who it was, but they were too tight. He spoke in a smooth, measured manner, a slight accent undercutting his words.

"No, no, don't get up on my account," the voice continued. "You're my guest, after all. And you and I? We've got to have a little talk."

The speaker walked around the chair to the other side of the room, a barely distinguishable silhouette.

"You see, Mr. Rolston, a man in my position, he cannot abide any sort of transgressions against him. It makes him look weak. And if he looks weak, then people, they start to get ideas." The man picked something up off a table in front of him that glinted with a metallic sheen in the faint light. "Nasty ideas."

Rolston's eyes flicked around the chamber. As his vision adjusted, he started to make out faint shapes in the shadows- shapes that his brain was all too keen to imagine as terrible, terrible things.

"Now, if you'd merely disrespected me, I could have just had you beaten." The man set the implement aside and picked up a different pair of items. "Stolen from me, I would have just killed you." He flicked open a lighter and lit the cigar in his other hand. "But you, Mr. Rolston, you took something very precious from me. " He turned around, and in the faint light from the cigar, Rolston could make out a familar, scarred visage- that of Don Vito Tiero, a man he'd prayed he would never see again.

"And for that, I'm going to make you wish you were dead."

Rolston opened his mouth to beg, plead, confess, anything that would het him out of this, but to his horror, realized he couldn't. Because his tongue had been removed.

So when Don Tiero picked up a knife and walked towards him, all Rolston could do was scream.