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.
“That’s not true. I can’t believe it still.”
“Its causes are not easily explained, Nick. They’re bound up in my own life. Tonight I am finishing here a task I dedicated myself to many, many years ago when I was very young. Tomorrow I will start on a new task, and a new dedication, and perhaps my life will not be, in the future, the inhibited turmoil it has been in the past.”
Nick shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean, but of course you know what you’re doing.”
“Out of the whole thing, I’m grateful for your friendship, Nick.”
“You sound as if you were resigning from that too.”
A waiter stopped by and bowed politely. “Telephone call for doctor, please.”
“Which doctor?” Nick said, starting to rise.
“Dr. Cameron, tuan.”
Cameron rose. He seemed relieved. “Be right back.” He left.
Cameron returned in a few moments, his face somber. “I’m very sorry, but I’ll have to run. I know you’re busy, Nick, too, so suppose you come to the labs tomorrow?”
“Very well,” Nick said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Good-night, Nick.”
“ ’Night, Paul.”
Almost instantly, the waiter came over again. “Pardon. Dr. Adams? You are wanted at the front desk, sir.”
Nick signed the check hurriedly and walked out briskly. At the front desk, the clerk said: “The telephone call you were expecting, Doctor.”
“Good!” Nick said, elated. “I’ll take it up in my room. Tell the gentleman to hold on.”
“Very well, Doctor. And just a moment. Your friend, Dr. Cameron, dropped this package as he was leaving. Will you be able to return it to him?”
Nick took the small carton, about the size of a toothpaste tube box, nodded, said he would return it to Cameron, and then ran for his room.
Nick unlocked the door and went in. The moonlight through the window looked very beautiful. The telephone was ringing. He hurried to the phone without turning on the lights, and sat on the edge of the bed as he answered it.
“Hello?”
“Nicholas?”
“Hello, Eddie.” Nick’s voice dropped in disappointment.
Eddie Wing sounded serene, as was his way. “Sweetheart, I would appreciate the pleasure of your company this evening for the dropping of a few pearls of wisdom and the eating of some poi.”
“Eddie — thanks, but you know—”
“Huapala — I insist.” Eddie was firm. “I have a friend here who is most anxious to meet you. In fact, visiting me might coincide perfectly with your plans for the night.”
Nick began to warm. “This friend wouldn’t be a denizen of Brooklyn by any chance?”
Eddie Wing said whimsically: “I do believe he mentioned the fact. We may expect you then, Nicholas?”
“Yes,” Nick said. “Bless your heart, Eddie.”
“Bless my foot!” Eddie said. “Come on over.”
“At once.”
Nick hung up. Sergeant Woolton had been found! Dr. Venner’s aide-de-camp was at Wing’s house! It was marvelous good luck, and Nick began to feel the pulse of optimism in his veins. He started for the door hastily, not bothering to change, but hearing a faint click behind him, he paused at the door, his back against it. There was an amused chuckle in the dark. Nick’s heart jumped. He reached for the light — hesitated.
A voice as liquid as oil said: “Please, sah, forgive me, but you may turn on the light.”
Nick flipped the switch. When the room blazed, he found Mr. H. H. Sze lying on the bed. Mr. Sze was not reclining exactly. He was half erect, his shoulders against the headboard, a pillow under them, and his knees were high against his chest. He was dangling his pistol carelessly, his index finger crooked under the trigger guard. “Good evening, sah,” he said, his face with less expression than a judge’s. “Forgive this worthless one such informality.” He rose mockingly to his feet and bowed.
“Well, Mr. Sze,” Nick said. He halted, at a momentary loss for words. “We meet again. I had high hopes I’d avoid another visit from you.”
“Forgive me,” said Mr. Sze, “but your so clever escape at Waiana was so very much a challenge to me. You are armed, sah?”
“No.”
“Forgive me, sah, if I make certain for myself.” Gracefully he moved behind Nick. Nick stood stock-still while those long fingers probed his person for a gun, and found none. “You have something of great importance in your hand, sah?”
“Since I haven’t seen it yet, I wouldn’t know,” Nick said.
“Forgive me, sah, I will see for myself.”
Mr. Sze took Cameron’s carton from Nick and opened it. He did not just rip it open. He inserted one of his long index fingers under the flap and very evenly raised the flap. There was nothing inside. The carton was empty.
Mr. Sze looked at the thing blankly. It could not have meant anything to him, but with his lack of facial expression, Nick wasn’t able to make any guesses. Mr. Sze shrugged. “So very sorry, sah.” He dropped the carton on the bed.
“Quite all right,” Nick said. “I’m sorry I don’t have a lot of personal papers you could peruse. It would probably do your heart good. Or can you read, Mr. Sze?”
Mr. Sze’s eyes glittered. “Forgive me, Doctor, but this witless one has earned the accomplishment. This humble one is aware that he would normally be your inferior.” He drew himself erect. “But a pistol, sah, is the great equalizer. One man, yellow or white, is as good as another.”
“Ah,” Nick said, stalling, “a philosopher.”
“Forgive me, sah, but you are right. I am a philosopher. But this poor one is also a realist. You are my prisoner, if you please, and this time you must not escape, you must not offer resistance, Doctor, because this time — forgive me — I will take no chances.”
“What are your plans for me?” Nick said heavily. He was not afraid, his voice was quite steady, and he felt very cool.
“Forgive me, sah, this unfortunate one does not make the plans. If it were left to me to make the plans, you would be fermenting in Waiana, sah, for when a man is considered dangerous to a cause, there is no wise recourse but to slay him. To do otherwise is to be careless, sentimental, or merciful, none of which are compatible with destiny. Forgive me, it is un-Christian, but this realist belives that the meek will inherit only the grave.
“I am not of those meek, sah, forgive me the personal mention. This person believes you should have perished in Malacca. This person believes that you should perish now. But others have seen fit to forbid imperiling your life. And elaborate precautions have thus been taken for your safety. Indeed, sah, the star which blessed your birth will take you from this city tonight, for which, Christianly, you should offer your gratification to the Deity. Those who are left in Oahu on the morrow will not offer prayers to the Deity this side of hell.”
Nick felt the goose pimples studding his flesh. He managed to ask: “And these precautions, Mr. Sze?”
“Forgive me, sah, I have the drug herewith. You are to drink a glass of water in which is dissolved two tablets from this bottle. I have been given to understand that they will render you unconscious within a brief time. When you recover your senses, sah, you will be enroute south by small boat to Lanai, properly warned that should you show yourself in this locality again, immediate death would result. Forgive me, sah.”
“For God’s sake,” Nick said huskily. “I forgive thee. Don’t keep saying that. What guarantee have I that the drug isn’t nitric acid or the like?”
“None, sah.”
Nick walked to the bed and sat down and put his head in his hands. “And if I refuse, you shoot?”