Running From Legs and Other Stories

Introduction

Only one story in this collection was published under the pseudonym Ed McBain. That one was the title story, “Running From Legs,” and it first saw the light of day in 1996. Most of the other stories all appeared under my own name, Evan Hunter. Three of the stories in this collection were never published anywhere before, under either name.

You may well ask why.

I will tell you why.

They were probably not good enough.

(I don’t believe that for a moment.)

Because I am a master of suspense, or rather because Ed McBain is a master of suspense, I won’t tell you which those three stories are until you’re almost finished reading this little introduction. Instead, I will answer another question I feel certain is burning in your mind, and that is this: If only one story that follows was published under the Ed McBain pseudonym, why then does he get top billing on the cover and the title page of this book?

I will tell you why.

He is a better writer than Evan Hunter.

(I don’t believe that for a moment, either.)

Otto Penzler, mystery connoisseur, maven of all crime mavens, insists that a crime story is any story that has a crime central to the plot. By his definition (and who would doubt such an expert?) “Running From Legs” is most definitely a crime story. He should know. He published it in an anthology called Murder for Love. But by his definition, “The Last Spin,” which was first published in Manhunt in 1956 (the cover of the magazine bellowing “By the Author of The Blackboard Jungle!”) and “The Prisoner,” which came out the following year, and “The Interview,” which was published in Playboy in 1971, are all crime stories as well and should have been published under the McBain name except that no one but my agent, my wife, and my mother (maybe) knew who Ed McBain was back then. Four out of eleven stories, however, do not a crime wave make and certainly do not constitute sufficient cause for headlining McBain over Hunter, do they? I mean, just turn the damn spotlight over to him that way? I mean, four out of eleven?

(Well, remember, three of those eleven were never published before now. Which means that half of the following stories are rightfully crime stories that fall in McBain’s bailiwick. Four out of eight, right?)

It wasn’t until a decade after the release of the film version of The Blackboard Jungle that I hit a so-called slick magazine with a short story. This was “The Fallen Angel,” published in 1965 in the Ladies Home Journal, the same magazine that had serialized The Blackboard Jungle in 1954. Short story sales to Playboy followed in rapid succession — both “The Interview” and “The Sharers” in 1971, the aforementioned “Terminal Misunderstanding” in 1972. The byline on all these stories was Evan Hunter.

Which brings us back to the essential question.

Why does McBain get top billing here, huh?

I will tell you why.

I owe a lot to him.

He’s kept me honest over the years.

If ever I begin to think I’m a “literary” writer, he looks me square in the eye and says, “Hey, come on up the precinct, pal.”

If ever I begin to think my stories are too good for some simple-minded editor to appreciate, he says, “Come on, they’re probably lousy.”

(I don’t believe that even when he says it.)

By now, I know you’re wondering which of these three stories were too lousy to publish anywhere before this very instant. Well, you already have eight of the titles that were published, so a simple process of elimination should give you the three rejects. But to spare you the agony of any further excruciating suspense...

The envelopes, please.

And the losers are...

“The Couple Next Door.”

“The Victim.”

And...

Drum roll.

“But You Know Us.”

By my count, two Hunters and a McBain, since “The Victim” is probably a crime story.

That gives us a total of six Hunters and only five McBains — but who’s counting?

Now you know us.

Evan Hunter

Ed McBain

Weston, Connecticut