The New Mammoth Book of Pulp Fiction
- Автор: Якубовски Максим, Беллем Роберт
- Год: 2014
- Язык: английский
- Год: Constable & Robinson
- ISBN: 9781472111807
- Жанр: Крутые детективы
Электронная книга - «The New Mammoth Book of Pulp Fiction». Краткое содержание книги:
Her hands were together in her lap. She sat stiffly, lips ragged. “It’s important, isn’t it? Then I can’t say for sure. It was about an hour after Jake went out with the blond man who limped. I think they went out about three. That would make it about four, but I can’t be sure.”
Slabbe slid his spittoon out from under his desk, dropped his gum into it. “You’ll be sure, honey,” he promised. “We’re going to make you sure. We’ll do a complete coverage, but take it easy. Don’t strain. This has to stand up in court.”
“All right,” she said dully.
Slabbe got a scratch pad handy. “Just to get organized, we’ll start with Sunday night. Where were you, honey? What did you do? What time did you get home? What time did you go to bed? Did you read or something before you fell asleep? Go ahead now. Don’t leave anything out, but don’t hurry.”
She started. There was no emotion in her voice, little interest. Slabbe was patient.
“Now for Monday morning,” he said. “Everything you did, honey. What time did you get up? Did you get right out when the alarm went off, or did you turn over for another minute?”
“I got right up. My alarm is set for seven o’clock.”
“What did you do first? What do you always do?”
“Wash—”
“OK, then what? Make your own breakfast? What did you have? What bus or streetcar did you take? Remember the driver? Remember the elevator boy at Jake’s office building who took you up? Did he say good morning? Take it, honey. You can remember every single second if you work it right.”
“Yes. I can, can’t I?”
“You bet you can,” Slabbe said. “If you get ahead of yourself don’t be afraid to go back. I’m writing it all down in order. Spit it out, honey, spit it out.”
Susie Caston went on. She spoke faster now. She began to wrinkle her brow. Her eyes got life back into them. She talked over Monday morning, every minute of it. Her voice gathering strength and interest. “It’s like living it over again, Benjie,” she said. “I can almost feel the temperature of the office that day. It was cold, I remember. There was something wrong with the radiator. I called the superintendent three times. He said he’d send a plumber up. The plumber came about three-thirty—”
“Uh-uh, not too fast,” Slabbe cut in. “We’re only at the morning yet. Don’t jump ahead. Don’t try to tell something that happened before something else. One at a time, honey, one at a time. What about lunch?”
“Twelve-thirty to one-thirty,” she responded promptly. “I walked downstairs. The elevator was on the top floor. I went out the front door, went east down Main Street, north on Fifth. I went to the Acme lunchroom. I had a grilled cheese sandwich, two olives with it, lemon sponge pie, a cup – no, two cups of cocoa. I smoked two cigarettes. Going back to the office . . .”
Slabbe filled in his chart. As nearly as possible, every minute was accounted for in chronological order.
“Yes,” Susie cried, “it was just three o’clock when that man came in, a few seconds before. I can hear the City Hall clock sometimes when the wind is right. He came in and said, ‘Where’s the boss?’ and I got up and went into Jake’s office, and the clock was striking three times. Jake looked past me into the outer office and saw the man and jumped up and yelled: ‘Come in, Lorenz; come right in. Beat it, Susie.’ But they weren’t together more than five minutes when they came out again, headed for the door. That was when Jake whispered to me: ‘I’m taking him to Nola’s home and we collect.’ ”
“On the ball now, honey,” Slabbe warned. “Keep it coming. Were you standing up or sitting down when they left? Did you look at your watch? How did you pass the time?”
“I was typing when they went out. I finished four letters. It was after three then. I wanted to get done to hear Marty and Hazel on the radio. That’s that program that’s on every day at three-thirty.”
Slabbe cut in. “How long is the program?”
“Fifteen minutes. They advertise a soap powder.”
“Did you get it on?”
“Yes. I remember, I turned it on while I was still typing, and I kept going till the announcer was done with the first commercial. Then I leaned back and listened.”
“And Nola hadn’t called yet?”
“No. The program was over. The plumber came before Mr Nola called. He came just at the end of the program with tools. And I said, ‘Don’t you start making noise till I hear this.’ He said, ‘Lady, I knock off at four o’clock, so I’ve got fifteen minutes to stop you squawking about how cold it is.’ ”
Susie’s eyes were intent now. She wasn’t in Slabbe’s office. She was back in Jake George’s office Monday afternoon at 3:45. She said: “Then the commercial started again and I told the plumber to bring the roof down if he wanted to. He went to work. I typed another letter, that took at least ten minutes. Then the telephone rang and it was Mr Nola. I yelled at the plumber: ‘Stop that for just a second please.’ And he stopped, and I talked to Mr Nola and—”
Slabbe had stopped listening. This was what he wanted. The plumber would be another witness.
“How am I doing, Benjie?” Susie asked.
“You did, baby,” Slabbe assured her. “There’s no doubt it was him, is there? You know his voice?”
“Oh, yes, I talked to him often. I’ll swear it was him.”
“And a jury will believe you, honey,” Slabbe said grimly.
“But Benjie, what’s it all about?”
“Just that it must have been five minutes to four when John Nola called you, honey, and the plane that cracked up took off at ten minutes to four.”
Susie goggled. “Well, then . . . he . . . I mean.”
“You bet.” Slabbe sat down again. “He was never on that plane.”
6. Hot and Heavy
Slabbe was again alone in his office at eleven o’clock when Charlie Somers called to say: “That big chauffeur took off in the Nola Caddy as soon as Carlin pulled his boys out. Abe Morse is tailing him.”
“That’s your shift in, then,” Slabbe said. “I’ll pay you in the a.m.”
He got City Hall on the wire, told Carlin: “Come on over, Pat. We’re gonna go places.”
Carlin arrived promptly. His dark eyes were glittering. “You told me to take Teel down just for monkey business, didn’t you?”
Slabbe shrugged apologetically. “Well, he was logical, wasn’t he? It looked good, too, and it took you and your gang away from the Nola joint so they could operate some more. That’s what they’re doing, only they have company. Abe Morse is working.”
“Who’s ‘they’?” Carlin demanded.
“Just Hurst, so far,” Slabbe said. “Drink some beer. I don’t think he’ll be going far, but we gotta wait for Abe to put him in somewhere and get to a phone. How did Ione Nola take it when you let it out that Teel was Ruby’s hubby?”
Carlin folded his long form into a chair, grimaced. “It was touch and go. I didn’t know for a second whether she’d claw my eyes out or fold up and we’d have to send for a nut doctor.”
“Uh-huh?” Slabbe was interested.
“It hit her hard, all right. Her face started to bust up. Then the old lady, Miss Yates, did a Marines to the rescue and started telling her that she loved Teel, didn’t she, and the charges against him were preposter-something, and here was where her love was going to be tested, and like that.”
“And Ione pulled out of it?”
Carlin nodded. “Yep. She’s more nuts about the guy than ever. Dames are nuts.”
“You braced Teel with the Caddy being at Lilac Lake Monday night?”
“Sure. He wouldn’t talk. He has the oldest face on a guy of twenty-seven I ever saw.”