"Watch Me Kill You!" — I'll do an artistic job of it and everything'll be over and we'll have you all comfortable in your coffin before you know it. We will, that is, if we can keep Latin, the only shamus who might gum the works, sufficiently soaked in brandy till your grave's filled.
"Don't Give Your Right Name" — If you happen to get in the line of fire of a baleful Borgia on a murder rampage. Take a lesson from a shamus with a shady rep and stagger out of the way with plenty of brandy under your belt. You'll come out on top much quicker, with dough in your kick to boot, and a hell of a lot less grief.
"Give the Devil His Due" — As he accepts a murder commission—for a price—and joins up with the busy folk who are searching the missing Jupiter Zachary—to make sure he stays that way, and preferably dead.
"You Can Die Any Day" — In a variety of unpleasant ways, as the unctuous Mrs. Gregory Farmer soon found out when she decided to become a client of that nonesuch of the genus sleuth, the brandy-drinking Latin, who couldn't keep his feet out of the blood puddles any more than he could keep his beak away from a sniffing-glass.
"Charity Begins At Homicide" — With Max Latin and Carter-Heason, the guy strictly from Kipling, following the latest goings-on of the “Charity” racket.
Read with tongue in cheek by Milton Bagby.