The Black Lizard Big Book of Black Mask Stories
- Автор: Adams Cleve F., Babcock Dwight V.
- Год: 2010
- Язык: английский
- Год: A Vintage Crime/Black Lizard
- ISBN: 978-0-307-45543-7
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Black Lizard Big Book of Black Mask Stories». Краткое содержание книги:
Black Mask was the apotheosis of noir. It was the magazine where the first hardboiled detective story, which was written by Carroll John Daly appeared. It was the slum in which such American literary titans like Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler got their start, and it was the home of stories with titles like “Murder Is Bad Luck,” “Ten Carets of Lead,” and “Drop Dead Twice.” Collected here is best of the best, the hardest of the hardboiled, and the darkest of the dark of America’s finest crime fiction. This masterpiece collection represents a high watermark of America’s underbelly. Crime writing gets no better than this.
“I hope we didn’t pull you away from something as important. In any case—”
“Leprosy at Molokai.”
“I was going to say, in any case, you are free to return. And I assure you—”
Nick was weary of his politeness. “Never mind, Doctor, that’s all right. We’ll say no more about it. But I don’t think I’ll be going back to Molokai. I’d like very much to visit your new hospital, if I may.”
“Of course you may!” said the colonel. “Suppose I give you a buzz. You could come out to Wahiawa for tea, and I’d show you through. We have all the military cases. Most interesting. When could you come out?”
Nick said, “Any time.”
“Well—” said the colonel, “I’m going to be rather busy until Thursday. Suppose I give you a ring on Thursday?”
“Suppose you do,” Nick said. He was annoyed.
“Righto. Call you Thursday then. And again, many thanks for dashing down here so diligently. Like a fire wagon going to a fire!”
“I’ve had to put out many fires,” Nick said. “Sometimes I have to work fast. Good-bye, Colonel.”
He showed the fellow to the door, and when he opened the door the edge of it struck another man outside who had been on the point of knocking. The colonel brushed by quickly and went down the hall. He did not wait for the elevator, but descended by the stairs. Nick took the second man by the shoulders and said: “Eddie Wing! The only man in the world I am always glad to see. Come on in, Eddie.”
Dr. E. V. Wing was little, young and irrepressible. He was so small that a strong breeze could have blown him away. He was a native Hawaiian, with the C.I. labs.
“It is very delightful to see you again, sweetheart,” Dr. Wing said. “I missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” Nick said. “I guess I got pretty used to you, Eddie. You look fine.”
“As ever,” Dr. Wing said, cheerfully. “Cameron said you were back. I thought I’d better come right over and apologize. I’m the guy who got you into this thing, Nick. I mean — the reason you came back to Oahu. I told Venner where you were. He knew you were in the islands. He asked me where... It is good to see you, palsy. I hope I did not interrupt you and the officer? I should have telephoned. Paul said you were in, and I took the liberty of coming over at once.”
Nick said: “You didn’t interrupt anything but a lot of beating about the bush. I’ll tell you about it later. Colonel Venner of the Medical Corps just came to see me to beg off demanding my assistance.”
Eddie Wing blinked, silent for a moment. “Are you kidding?” he said. “You mean that the officer who just left—”
“Yes! That was Venner! Brought me all the way down here on an emergency and then ditched me after I got here.” Nick smiled wryly.
“Nicholas,” Eddie Wing said, “I am afraid you have been duped.”
Nick frowned. “I have a weakness for getting duped.”
“I mean that the guy who just left here was not Colonel Venner. If he said so, he’s a phony.”
“Eddie, are you sure? He—”
“Your humble pardon, Nick-ole-ass, but these ferret eyes can see pretty well!”
“Then who the devil—” Yes, and what the devil and why the devil and a lot of other queries sprung into his mind. All went unanswered. Nick stared at the door blankly, trying to arrange his thoughts in some sort of pattern, but they would not fall into line. He picked up the telephone and said: “Get me Army Intelligence at Schofield, please.”
The desk clerk wanted to ask if something was wrong but he didn’t. Presently the station answered. Nick said: “Lieutenant Kerry, please.” Allan Kerry was an old friend.
“Kerry here,” Kerry said. “Army Intelligence.”
“Kerry, this is Nicholas Adams. I’m at the Royal Hawaiian.”
“Yes, Doctor?”
“I’ve just had an unusual experience. A gentleman dressed in the uniform of the United States Army, rank of colonel, visited me and passed himself off falsely as one John Venner. I wondered if you people wanted to do something about it.”
“Silly boy!” said Kerry. “I’ll give you Captain Malta. He’s in charge of that sort of thing. Hold on.”
Captain Malta had a kettle drum voice which rattled from the depths of his diaphragm without effort. “Do you have this guy with you still?”
“No, I’m sorry, he’s gone. I can give you a pretty good description.”
“Do that,” Captain Malta said. “We’ll see if we can’t pick him up. I’d like to see him.”
Nick described the impostor accurately. “Understand, I just could be mistaken. Perhaps it really was Venner. But the chances are a hundred to one it was an impostor.”
“There are no chances involved,” Captain Malta said. “Thank you for your information, Doctor. I’ll see you personally soon.”
“Very well,” Nick said and, curiously, “How do you know there are no chances involved?”
“Because Colonel John Venner happens to be dead,” replied Captain Malta. “He was murdered in the dark sometime late last night and we only recovered his body at noon today.”
“What?” Nick whispered, awed.
“So it was an impostor.”
“Yes,” Nick said in a low voice. “Good-bye, Captain.” He hung up the telephone and sat down, his eyes troubled.
For a few minutes, Nick Adams said nothing. Eddie Wing smoked a cigarette detachedly. Nick went to the window and looked out upon the ocean. It kept coming home to him that the baby had been left on his doorstep. In one way, he was being released from any obligation. What the devil, he knew nothing at all about the forty-eight-hour disaster; he had kept his word to Venner, come down to Honolulu at once. If Venner was dead, how could anyone expect him to keep on with the mystery? On the other hand, several things he had not appreciated began to make themselves clear.
First, H. H. Sze’s attempt to divert him from the plane to Waiana finally took on an aspect of logic. By itself it was incredible. But when you put it with the word of the impostor officer who had assured him the case was closed, it made sound sense. Sze had been commissioned to get him off the plane and hidden because someone knew he was coming to Honolulu and didn’t want him there. This failing, the bogus Venner had arrived instantly to assure him the “plot” had been nipped in the bud, and that he was free to return to Molokai. The red-faced officer had made a great point of telling Nick that he was free to go. Not free to remain and enjoy his visit in Honolulu. Free to go back.
They didn’t want him in town. He didn’t know a damned thing, and yet they were afraid of him.
That line of reasoning really made up his mind. He felt rather useless and helpless, but since they considered him such a potential menace to the catastrophic plans Venner had stumbled on, he would stay and try to do a job of it. He had no idea where to begin. But it was his baby and he adopted it on the spot.
The imminent disaster was, obviously, no longer forty-eight hours away. Colonel Venner had set that hour in his telegram at 8:33 the evening before. It was now nearly six p.m. Almost twenty-two hours had elapsed since the telegram had been dispatched. Twenty-two from forty-eight equaled twenty-six. A little more than a full day.
Nick felt panic-stricken.
“Eddie,” he said, “you’ve got to help.”
“I knew that,” Eddie Wing said. “Say the word, sweetheart. E hele kaua!”
“Read this.” Nick gave him the telegram. Secrecy essential. Well, by God, you had to trust someone. There was no one in the East or the West he could have trusted as much as Eddie Wing. Dr. Wing read the message without expression, paused to consider it with eyes closed, and then returned it to Nick.