Danger in the first degree. Open on a sultry, rather unremarkable big-city afternoon. Focus on a sweaty, sort of sloppy small-time PI's office. The drowsy detective is rudely jerked back to consciousness by his telephone's nasty jangle: "Sam, you're a dead man." Seems things have suddenly gotten very personal. A definitely unsettling how-do-you-do. But who in the world could be the perpetrator? And why? "Sam, you're a dead man." There are 20 serious suspects. And, unfortunately for Sam, it seems each one wants to throw the first clump of dirt on his coffin. "Sam, you're a dead man." A smart gumshoe will turn his old casefiles - and the city - upside down to find the fiend. A smarter gumshoe will also turn and constantly check his flanks. Seems Sam's been put in the rather precarious position of trying to skin a cat without getting skinned alive. "Sam, you're a dead man." And the one man who can help with a few precious clues and tidbits of info just happens to be blind. "Sam, you're a dead man." "Sam, you're a dead man." Guess who's Sam. Have a nice day.
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