Gil Brewer (1922-1983) is a legend among aficionados of 50's and 60's crime/noir fiction. Make no mistake, he wrote some lousy novels. But when he was on, he was terrific. This novel from 1967 is good.
It concerns a down-on-his-luck schmuck who drinks too much and cheats on his wife. When she finally gets fed up and leaves, he realizes what a mess he's made of things and desperately tries to think of a way to win her back. It just so happens that that very night, while walking on the beach and pondering his situation, a gorgeous young blonde woman wrapped in a towel comes running along the sand. She's being chased by thugs who are bent on killing her. Our protagonist hides her, and just like that we are off on a wild crime caper with the blonde in the role of the femme fatale and a missing suitcase full of stolen cash as the object of everyone's affection.
I've read many books like this, and when they're done right, they're a blast. This one is good, but I wouldn't call it elite. I did like the way the author wrapped things up. He threw in a nice twist at the end that I didn't see coming, so I give him credit for that. All in all, it's a pleasant reading experience if you like this sort of thing.