“Betrayed” by David Essex was published in 1948 by Curtis Warren Ltd., and sports a mediocre illustration by H. W. Perl.
I don’t know a damn thing about David Essex, save that he wrote one novel a year later, “Retribution,” also for Curtis Warren Ltd. Additionally, he crops up at least twice in 1948, appearing with snippets in Stag Magazine (edited by Bevis Winter).
We are introduced to detective Al Rankin (a name I am sure I have read elsewhere prior but can’t place). He’s a scruffy fellow that has little room for nonsense. He gives orders and expects them to be followed. He is currently employed by a large business magnate, paid to keep his employer out of trouble. The trouble? A competitor, whom he fears will stop at nothing to derail his future business designs.
So when Rankin is rudely barged in upon by his employer, one Mr. King, he’s hardly in the mood to be nice. King isn’t in any position to be polite either; there’s a dead beauty at his flat, and he claims to be innocent.
Taking King’s wheels out to the flat, they enter and are nonplussed to find…nothing! No body! Just a blood stain where a body should be. And the police are also now on the scene, expecting a body. They give King and Rankin a hard time, but without a body, they can’t detain either one (apparently). The pair depart and Rankin suggests a quieter location, perhaps another home that King might own. King acknowledges he has another. They arrive and King discovers the corpse in the back of the car.
Rankin now has his first look at the dame, and boy, she’s simply gorgeous. Or, was. Whatever. Thinking quickly on his feet, Rankin devises both a plan to rid themselves of the body while also delivering the body into the hands of the police.
Hiring a crony, they trick the chief investigating officer to pursue the crony out into the middle of nowhere. Then he runs on foot into the woods. While the officers chase him, Rankin drives down to the abandoned police cruiser, dumps the stiffened corpse into their backseat, takes off down the road, picks up his crony, and they speed off.
Unloading his helper, he informs King that the body is unloaded. That stiff off their minds, Rankin settles down to trying to unravel the case. He soon discovers the identity of the corpse.
He soon learns that King secretly has a dame holed up in a suite (King is married). He pays her a visit. Doesn’t like her one bit. Gives her the low-down. Turns out the recently deceased is this floozie’s younger sister. He departs, and waits around the block.
He waits a long time, but, is finally rewarded. The sister takes a cab and he follows them far and away. Rankin watches as she enters a building, and notes the other two vehicles that are present. Not only is King’s rival present, but so is King’s own operations manager! Sneaking in through the cliché “open-window,” he listens in and learns most of the case.
Leaving the way he entered, he waits again in his car. The woman’s cab is long gone. The girl exits and walks away. He waits until she approaches, nabs and convinces her to get in. Rankin bounces all the evidence off her and she comes undone.
The plot dissolves in the usual manner: Rankin takes care of the creeps, the girl gets a free pass, King ceases to play naughty with his innocent wife, and Rankin takes his pay and decides to see a gal out of town.
The literature is cheap, disgusting and not worthy of reading. It’s only worth the effort of collecting for those that are interested in post-war gangster fiction or good girl art.
You have been warned!