We tossed Sal's pad. It was bargain-basement furnished. Living room/kitchen-dining room/hallway/bedroom.. Lots of books. Lots of movie and play scripts. Mucho paperbacks with lurid all-male covers. Beefcake wall prints. Booze bottles and food in the fridge.
Cracking the Case of Murdered Actor Sal Mineo
Located in an unidentified country that strongly suggests Venezuela, the godforsaken pueblo of Las Piedras (The Stones) is an ugly buzzard-ridden dump populated by beggars, urchins, soldiers of fortune, native layabouts, and random washashores who amuse themselves by idly stoning dogs or holding spitting contests in a sleazy cantina.
It must be Saturday. Hicksville. Everybody's in town. Cowboy porch lizards. Relaxin'. Shootin' the breeze. Waitin' for the Streamliner to blow through. She's greased lightning. Like clockwork. The day's big excitement. A faint rumble. The train's a comin'. You can hear the drone of the F7's down the valley. The pitch changes. The horn blares. Station agent excited. She's stopping. A train hasn't stopped here in four years.
Bad Day at Black Rock 1955 - Noir Meets the Modern Western