The first step is a doozy, as they say, but in vintage fiction so is the last one and all those in between. Abovr and below are assorted paperback covers featuring characters who've had a bad time navigating stairs, a few due to accidents but most via ill intent from third parties. We also have one hardback dust sleeve we added at the bottom because it was so interesting. Just scroll down, but do it carefully.

Today we have another cover collection for you. We had noticed quite a few pieces of pulp/sleaze art featuring syringes as a central element, so we’ve gathered up twenty examples, with art by Michel Gourdon and others. Some of these are from Flickr, so thanks to the original uploaders.

Yesterday we showed you two of the most expensive pulp paperbacks we’ve ever run across. Today we’re going to do the opposite and show you something that was free. Above is the cover of Agatha Christie’s 1950 Miss Marple mystery Se anunucia un asesinato, aka A Murder Is Announced, and we found it in a disused closet in the stairwell of our building. The collage style cover is credited to P. Ramírez, and there are also interior illustrations credited to someone billing himself simply as Moreno. It’s funny that we went all the way to Morocco expecting to find pulp when just one floor below there was a closet stacked high with hundreds of Spanish, English, and French magazines that go back forty years. Most of it seems unremarkable at first glance, but we haven’t had much time to explore, so there’s no telling what we’ll find. Since the door isn’t locked, we’re thinking it all probably belonged to a departed tenant. If not, well, it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.

Walter Brooks isn’t mentioned as one of the great paperback illustrators, and he probably wasn’t, but certainly this cover for Harold R. Daniels’ The Girl in 304 is dynamite. From the angled, ominous male shadow, to the stylish font, and the blue color palette with checks of red and a splash of pink flesh and yellow fabric, this one is a winner in all categories. Brooks, who was born in Glasgow, served as president of NYC’s Society of Illustrators, wrote books about painting, and designed U.S. postage stamps. And notably, he was the art director at Dell Publishing in 1958 when he was shown the work of Robert McGinnis by agent Don Gelb. Brooks assigned McGinnis his first two covers, thus helping to launch a legendary career. He also gave William Teason, who illustrated more than 150 Agatha Christie covers, his first shot that same year. So even if Brooks was not a great himself, he certainly knew talent when he saw it. This piece dates from 1956. 

Below, fifteen pieces of pulp art with terror as their central theme. The cover in panel three from Erle Stanley Gardner is the German version of 1948's Perry Mason and the Case of the Vagabond Virgin, retitled Perry Mason und die Unschuld vom Lande, or Perry Mason and the Innocence of the Country.

Mignonette Eberhart was an acclaimed mid-century crime writer who was the first to create a female sleuth, which she did in her book The Patient in Room 18. This was a year before Agatha Christie created her immortal sleuth Jane Marple in Murder at the Vicarage. Eberhart soon veered away from pure whodunits and into romance-mysteries that usually centered on good women involved with bad men. The tagline of 1940’s The Hangman’s Whip—“Death is quicker than divorce”—gets that idea across succinctly. It was in these writings that Eberhart flourished, becoming internationally known and highly paid. She authored fifty-nine books, six of which were adapted to film, along with three of her short stories, and in 1971 she earned the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master Award. Eberhart died in 1996, but she changed the romance genre and entertained millions while doing it. Her books—including The Hangman’s Whip—remain widely available.      

Evocative cover art painted by William Rose for Agatha Christie’s 1948 mystery There Is a Tide, aka Taken at the Flood. Other possible akas include: I Was Only Choking My Dear, All Hands on Neck, and Squish You Were Here. Are we lucky or just good?