I've had the phrase 'Weaponized Bio-Whore' stuck in my brain for weeks and finally photoshopped it out of my head where it can cease wreaking havoc on my gray cells. This must be what Ellis, Morrison and Moore feel like sometimes.
As mentioned in a previous post, Futura - Chapter 12, there are some recurring creative cliches that irk the heck out of me and ruin my reading or viewing enjoyment. Author Lewis Shiner addresses many of them in his work and I have referenced it previously myself. This entry in My First Book of Noir shtick Jenny vs. The Crime Empire pokes fun at two of the most common and irksome cliches in any action fiction; that of the "Lucky Break" and "The Hostage With Access To Weapons (Who Doesn't Use Them)".
Breaking those tropes is why I found page five of Chapter 12's Futura story so pleasing. Brought into the command center before the tyrant of space, Futura proceeds to beat him near to death with her bare hands. The scene in the fictional Chapter 5 of Jenny vs. The Crime Empire was directly inspired by how I envisioned the initial conference room meeting between captive Rachel Weisz and the evil corporate executive in the film Chain Reaction should have really gone down.
A few pages from the story Jenny vs. The Crime Empire. Originally published in My First Book of Noir (1953).
"He had been called "Sweat Weasel" for so long he had nearly forgotten his true name."
A page from the story Sweat Weasel in Big Town. Originally published in My First Book of Noir (1953).
Throughout the two decades prior to the 1970s publishers had pretty much saturated the market with reprinted science fiction, adventure and mystery and were searching for new consumers. The 1970s offered a new opportunity in marketing. Continuing the practices of the 1950s and 1960s previously published stories were repackaged and some cases edited to take advantage of the perceived growing culture of sexual adventurism.
Sex and sexuality was explored as never before in popular culture media as cinema, television and print added eye-catching imagery to their products. One of those franchises that took advantage and one might say suffered from the advertising culture were the Earle Stanley Gardner Perry Mason collections of the 1970s. The Perry Mason character had been in nearly continual print and produced in other entertainment forms since the first story was published in 1933.
The photographic covers of the 1970s re-issues of the Perry Mason stories are a perfect example of recognizing, understanding and exploiting pop culture. Gone were the bombshells and hard-boiled dames of previous years. Now the books attracted a new audience by taking advantage of the pornography industry's emerging though short-lived legitimization.
Thematically most of the photographs would not be out of place if transferred to the film box covers of 8mm skin flicks. They were unapologetic come-ons. While the sexy covers may have generated some sales I recall that my mother and grandmother, who were ESG and Perry Mason fans from way back and read mystery novels on a regular basis, would not touch these books when they debuted. The idea put forth by the covers of Perry Mason, a mental image undoubtedly influenced by years of exposure to Raymond Burr, boinking his clients during huge orgies must have been a turn-off for them. I know that it is for me.
As far as I know new scenes of swinging, weed-fueled bacchanals were not edited into the old stories, though that was not true for all of the work in other fields. Sex scenes were often added semi-randomly to many reprints, most predominately for the science fiction crowd. Often I was 
surprised to discover SF stories that I had read in old collections when reprinted had several paragraphs tossed in devoted to sex scenes. Undoubtedly in order to keep the interest of a reader and hook them for future sales.
If Diamond Bomb had existed to have her adventures reprinted in the early 1970s then her artistic covers may have been similar to all the others on the news stands and would have been just as exploitative. One exception to the sexy themes of the covers would be the intent of the art. Being a female character it would be unlikely that Diamond would be portrayed as dominant a character as Perry Mason had been. In diametric opposition to whatever established characterization existed, Diamond would almost certainly be depicted not as strong or an aggressor but as being submissive, willing and sexy, a toy for the other characters and an intriguing tease for the prospective buyer.
In the 50s and 60s and even well into the 70s old pulp series found new audiences as the relatively inexpensive and in some cases, public domain, stories of the 30s and 40s were repackaged as cheap paperback books. While considered to be disposable entertainment by both the industry and consumers many of these books featured the work of artists who were masters of their craft and examples of their work are much sought after by collectors. The nature of the industry and the readers of the time ensured that mint copies of the books are exceedingly rare and in many cases the original art is lost forever.
One of the more popular artists of the era was R. A. Maguire, who specialized in his depictions of sexy, dangerous women. Maguire typically turned in a classic work no matter the theme, whether it be crime, adventure or sleaze.
If Diamond Bomb had existed to have her fictional Pulp adventures reprinted in the 60s boom of crime novels then I would definitely would have insisted she be envisioned by Maguire.
Original art The Brass Halo by R. A. Maguire. Check out his gallery at R. A. Maguire Cover Art , you won't be disappointed.
The moment she walked into my office through the door I forgot the first rule of detective work: Never trust a beautiful dame. There was something about her. Something special and I could sense it right away. She came breezing in on a cloud of expensive French perfume, all blond and soft curves and sharp, high cheekbones. From the way she was dressed I could tell she could afford an entire team of private dicks so if she came to a skid row P.I. like me it could only be for two reasons: She was desperate and had a secret.
"I was referred to you by a mutual acquaintance, Mr. Sleestak. You come highly recommended as a person who could get things done quietly and with out fuss. I can't afford this problem to be a matter of public fodder for the gossip columns."
"Why don't we start with your name." I said. I didn't bother to correct her notion about keeping things quiet. A lot of my cases usually ended with a lot of noise. The kind of noise that comes from the business end of a gun. I motioned her to a chair and she reluctantly took a seat. She was high class, that was for sure. She was almost able to keep the expression of distaste of her angelic face as she settled onto the chair. I wasn't one for housecleaning. I was sure that this skirt would burn her dress the first chance she got.
"I'm Susan Evers." She said. I knew the name. The famous, or should I say infamous Evers Family had their fingers in all kinds of pies in this town. She was rich. Real rich. "My estranged sister is out to destroy the family."
"Go on." I urged her, taking another drink from the bottle of cheap bourbon I always keep on hand in my desk. I tipped the bottle towards her in a silent offer of a drink, but she ignored my gesture. My already high estimation of her went up a couple of notches.
"As you may know, my family does not always get along." Miss Evers began. "In fact, my parents divorced early and fought for controlling interests in the family holdings for decades. Since in the event of their passing the family money and business goes to us children, my sister and I where used as weapons by each parent to control the other. My mother and sister, Sharon, who is my exact twin by the way, moved to England shortly after the divorce. It is only recently come to my attention that Sharon has been attempting to take control of the business by undermining my influence."
Getting mixed up in family problems was always bad news for a detective. Too much emotion and not enough facts cloud the issue. I've seen this before. People say it's about right and wrong but in the end it always come down to one thing. Greed. I nodded. "So why come to me? This seems like more of a matter for a shyster and not a low-rent gumshoe."
"I wish I could use the courts, but all the lawyers are being manipulated and some of them are in on the plan. Sharon has already impersonated me a number of times and is always one step ahead of my own team. Sharon signs paperwork and makes appearances as me and if I attempt to reverse one of "my" decisions I look weak, foolish or ineffective to the board of directors. That plays right into Sharon's hands."
"Mr. Sleestak, The shareholder's meeting is in two weeks and for the first time in 20 years our parents will be living under the same roof for the duration. It was Sharon's idea that we all get together. We will all be one big "happy family" again until the proxy vote is over and I'm worried that Sharon has laid some kind of trap for our parents. My fear is that Sharon will take that opportunity murder them and me in order to take control of the family business."
She started to cry then, and dabbed delicately at her tears with a lace handkerchief. At that point I knew that little bit of cloth was the luckiest silk to ever be extruded from the bowels of a caterpillar. If I had one weakness it was when a dame starts with the waterworks. She looked up at me. "I need your help to get the proof I need to stop Sharon, Mr. Sleestak. Will you take the case?"
"Yesssss." I said. "Call me Slee."
“The desk calendar said March twenty-fourth. It could have said any other day and the same thing might have happened. That is, I could have become mixed up with the painted skull. Still, if I had just skipped March twenty-fourth – say been on a big party and not sobered up – maybe I would have missed a lot of unpleasant things. Well, I didn’t miss March twenty-fourth, so I didn’t miss the damned skull or the trail of violence along which it gyrated.”
- From Lady, That's My Skull by Carl Shannon
