New York: Random House, 1966. First Edition. Inscribed by Lillian Hellman to Norman Mailer, “For Norman, With love, Lillian.” Just very good in dust jacket; in a custom cloth clamshell box. Of course, it would be better to have it inscribed by Hammett, but he had already been dead for five years, so set that wish aside. Given Mailer’s own weak attempt at hardboiled fiction (Tough Guys Don’t Dance, 1984), this is an especially good association. Despite his well-earned reputation as a writer, that book demonstrated that it is no easy task, even for someone as talented and skilled as Mailer, to write in the genre.