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.
For one pulsating instant the girl hesitated, her eyes as she gazed up at Tex veiled, defiant; then her shadowy lids drooped over them and she slid her bracelets up and down with agitated fingers. “It’s... it’s — a paper Mr. Hewett made Jefe give him—”
“Where’s this paper now?”
“Arthur gave it to me — to hide—”
“Where did you hide it?”
The girl stretched her hands toward Tex in a gesture of desperate entreaty. “Oh, you will take Arthur where he’ll get well — and be — safe?”
Tex lapsed back into her soft drawl, successfully cloaking her impatience. “Sure, honey, Ah promised, but you didn’t tell me where you hid the paper.”
“I hid it in—” The girl’s eyes widened in terror as they shot past Tex to the doors.
Tex followed her gaze to the door nearest her. Slowly — quietly it was being pushed inward. Tex stiffened imperceptibly, her bead bag gripped tightly in both hands. Her mouth suddenly went dry and an icy finger seemed to trail along her spine.
Into the dim circle of light slid The Eel, his hands in his pockets, his crafty features set in an oily, unreadable mask.
Pancho followed him, an ugly grin pulling at his thick lips. A sharp-edged stiletto in his hand. “Better keel ’er now, eh, Jefe?” he flung at The Eel in a sort of gloating snarl.
“Naw, not that way, yuh’d get caught bang ter rights an’ take a fall to the big house.” The Eel stared at Tex, his deep, expressionless eyes glittering in the half-light like a snake’s.
“ ’Lo,” ventured Tex, her heart pounding against her side.
Pancho grunted, examining his knife.
The Eel glided toward Tex, a sinister smile stretching his narrow, fish-like mouth. “I got a more artistic way ter bump off them that gets in my way.”
Tex’s hand slid cautiously into her bag. She could shoot her way out if it was necessary but that would mean defeat. She wanted an explanation of the mystery; a confession if possible. And she felt that The Eel’s tremendous ego would be his downfall. He was so cocksure of himself. So confident that he could always squirm from under any police trap set to ensnare him.
Tex forced a laugh through stiff lips. “Say, fellah, who you goin’ to bump off — an’ if so — why — an’ — how?”
The Eel stopped a few feet from her and regarded her with a sly smirk. “Thought yuh’d like a bracelet.” He brought his hand out of his pocket, gingerly holding a jade circlet toward her.
A little gasp came from the girl but the two men were too engrossed in watching Tex to heed it.
The Eel came closer, almost touching her arm with the green bangle. She made no move to take it, although an involuntary shudder ran through her body.
“For God’s sake, Jefe, don’t... don’t!” The girl’s voice shivered upward into a thin shriek.
He wheeled toward her, a grin that was baleful in its significance twitching his lips. “Aw, don’t worry none, sister. I got one fer yuh, too.”
The girl shrank further into the shadows, her slim fingers clutching at each other in a frenzy of fear.
Then Tex spoke softly, in a sort of deadly calm, her Texan drawl more noticeable than ever, her greenish gold eyes flashing in the wavering half-light as she held The Eel with her steady stare. “Ah — don’t — want — your bracelet. Ah — never — did — like ’em. But— Ah’m kinda curious— What’s in ’em?” This last was a random shot but it had the desired effect. She heard the girl’s sharp intake of breath; noted the slight movement of startled surprise from Pancho. Her eyes, however, never left The Eel.
No change of expression came over his evil mask of a face. Only a trifle more expansion of his narrow chest. “I don’t mind tellin’ yuh because yuh ain’t goin’ ter live long enough ter spill it, see?” He paused dramatically to let this sink in.
Tex merely nodded and presently The Eel went on, wallowing in his own conceit. Tex smiled inwardly.
“I invented it, see? The hollow bracelets. First fer smugglin’ in dope, then out of my own head popped another idea. Poison, from my friend the rattler. A Chink learned me how ter take it out of the snake.” He stopped talking and grinned maliciously, fingering the jade bracelet.
Tex guessed that the “Chink” was himself. She stared at the bracelet, then at him, simulating awe, horror, admiration. “Lordy,” she whispered, “It sure takes a heap of brains to figure that out!”
He seemed to expand more than ever.
Tex waited, her hand grasping the pistol inside her bag.
The Eel was so absorbed in his own achievement that he didn’t notice, and Pancho’s mind was diverted, watching The Eel in fascinated horror, his stiletto in his belt.
There was no movement from the girl and Tex wondered what she was doing. She didn’t dare look, take her vigilant attention from Jefe. The green bangle made her feel creepy, as if a snake were actually crawling over her body. She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue and forced herself a step nearer The Eel.
Instantly Pancho lunged toward her, his hand flashing to his dagger.
“Aw, lay off, will yuh,” Jefe snapped irritably. “Put up yuh jack-knife.” He again addressed himself to Tex. “Now I’ll show yuh how I put Hewett an’ yuh little dick friend out of the way.” He turned the bracelet around carefully and pointed to two sharpened gold points on the inside. “Them,” he explained, “represents the fangs, an’ when pushed onter the arm it releases this little spring, stabbin’ the flesh at the same time and the poison pours inter the holes, see?” A maniacal laugh fell from his twisting lips.
Tex shivered.
“An’ yuh don’t like bracelets?” He turned to the girl with a sinister grin. “But Mame here does. Don’t yuh, Mame?”
The girl gave a cry of terror.
Pancho laughed and at a signal from The Eel sprang in front of Tex, grasping the girl around the waist, pinioning her wildly fighting arms to her sides and propelling her toward the advancing Jefe.
“I’ll show yuh how it works,” bragged The Eel, looking at Tex over his shoulder. “Then yuh’ll know in advance just how yuh’ll act, see?” He gripped the girl’s wrist.
She wriggled and jerked in a panic of fear. “Don’t! Don’t!” She turned tragic, horror-stricken eyes to Tex. “For God’s sake, stop him!”
Tex stood motionless, her heart thumping against her chest, her eyes riveted on the green bracelet.
The Eel paused and thrust his evil face close to the girl’s. “Hand over that paper an’ I’ll let yuh off.”
“What paper?” the girl parried faintly.
“Yuh know what paper! The one Hewett took off of me.”
The girl hesitated, her apprehensive eyes darting about the room. When at last she spoke it seemed to Tex that the words were meant for her. “The... the... one where you admitted killing Hewett’s partner — and threatened to kill Hewett — in the same way — if he refused to give you one hundred thousand dollars? Well... I... I... destroyed it.”
“Yuh lyin’! Come clean or—” The Eel held the bracelet close to her face.
A little moan trembled from her lips and she tried to pull away; then suddenly she lifted her head and looked at The Eel squarely with a pathetic show of bravado. “Yes — I have — the — paper — but — I won’t give it to you! — I promised — Arthur.” The last word was a faint whisper, almost a prayer, and the thought flashed through Tex’s seething mind that this girl, weak, misguided, had somehow gained a noble strength through her love for Arthur Hewett.
With his thin lips stretched over his teeth in a half snarl, The Eel sprang at the girl, grasping her wrist while Pancho laughed and held her waist with his great hairy hands.