Bullet Proof

She was as pretty a mantrap as Liddell had ever set up. Five-feet-six. Black hair. One hundred and twenty-eight lusciously distributed pounds. Very, very nice . . .

Liddell looked at his watch. The rackets boss was late in coming. Liddell didn’t mind. Let Frankie Capolla be as late as he wanted. Liddell knew a very good way of passing the time . . .