Dressed to kill - and, man, did I look fit to kill. Yeah, that's me, Shell Scott - the privatest eye in town, laughing it up as the king of clowns - and surrounded by more underworld celebrities than the contents of Sing Sing and San Quentin combined.

Some role for a guy who thought he was playing the dashing white knight to a maiden in distress. It's enough to make you cry - but I didn't care. If I didn't look happy kicking up killers, confetti and corpses, this was going to be the social event of my life - like, maybe, my funeral!