"My friends call me Frobisher. My enemies call me Mr. Frobisher. And the junk mail department of the Galactic Readers' Digest call me Mrs. F R Rubbisher — but that’s neither here nor there." It was just another quiet day on the mean streets for Frobisher, private eye. But then a dame walks into his office and into his life. A dame who is drop dead gorgeous and drop dead deadly, offering him a case he just can't refuse. Well, he could refuse it. If he really wanted to. But he has to pay the rent. That sort of web. You know. The sticky kind.
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