Crime Fiction Reader Mugs

'You know bank pens never work. Why didn't you write the holdup note before we left?!'

'I have no regrets. It was a once-in-a- 20-to-lifetime opportunity.'

'I'll never forget, it was the day before Newton discovered gravity.'

'Does that look like your waiter?'

"This is all we need! - A giant hat pin serial killer."

Master thinks dog will protect him, while dog thinks master will protect him.

Sherlock Holmes selling Sherlock Holmes.

"Stop summoning me about rising sea levels. I do costumed supervillains staling jewels, men in beanies grabbing handbags - that sort of thing."

"But he had a mask and I thought he was a burglar."

"Puss in cement boots"

Cat Burglar

It was my story. A murder mystery. A who-done-it-and-got-away-with-it-until-he-wrote-about-it.

"'A body at rest'? -- Are you writing murder mysteries now, Isaac?"

'I'm sure that the autopsy will confirm it was a suicide.'

"He was WOK-ing in a winter wonderland."

'You shouldn't knock them back so quickly.'

Money laundering - shows money flowing out of US vault.

Bernard Madhoff $50-billion Ponzi financial scheme.

Fred Dinsdale - Forensic expert.

'Who was the murderer? Well Watson, that's the killer question.'

The Big Book of Suspicious Crawl Spaces

"I felt I could make more of a difference within the system."

Whodunnit. Whoreallydunnit.

Sherlock Holmes with a magnifying glass.

"And just how do you expect to become a made man, son, without a solid liberal-arts education?"

'The good news is your life sentence is about over.'

"Ask the gumshoe. He'll tell ya the saucer was empty when I got there. Go on, gimme a purr detector test. I got all night."

"Don't make me send in the bad cat."

'Any ideas on motive?' 'Only one, Chief.'

The evidence destroyed

'So, in room 1 we sweat them. 2 is for grilling, 3 is for roasting. We leave them to simmer in room 4...'

"My pawprints? Nah, I wore gloves. They matched my noseprints on the window."

'This could be me and you, your honor. Heading for Las Vegas!'

Crime in bookshop

"It was Saturday night. The clock on my office wall showed the time to be eleven-forty-five. There are times when a private eye does not necessarily feel like being a private eye. This was one of those times. The elevator door down the hall clanked open with a clank familiar to anyone on the fourth floor who had had an office on the fourth floor for as long as I had had an office on the fourth floor. Footsteps came down the darkened hall and stopped outside my door. They were the footsteps of a