The Labyrinth of Dreams

Spade and Marlowe never took a case like this!

I'm Sam Horowitz. My wife Brandy and I are private eyes – and belly up broke. That's why we agreed to trace Martin Wthilock, a hotshot banker who'd skipped town with over two million dollars in laundered drug money. Not our usual case, but even filthy mob lucre pays bills.

Whitlock's trail led from a posh mansion to a hick burg called McInerney, Oregon – and to G.O.D. Inc., those geeks who hawk overpriced garbage on late night TV. That's where we found our boy... too often. There were three Marty Whitlocks: same prints. But one was female. One was dead. We got busted. That wasn't the worst.

The mob ripoff was only one move in a caper to take over crime – not the Mafia, but something a hell of a lot bigger. Because two-bit McInerney, Oregon, wasn't just off the map... it was off the edge of the Earth.

And Brandy and I were being taken for a ride – into THE LABYRINTH OF DREAMS.