Ed McBain’s Mystery Book, No. 1, 1960
- Автор: Бучер Энтони, Хантер Эван
- Год: 1960
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pocket Books
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Ed McBain’s Mystery Book, No. 1, 1960». Краткое содержание книги:
The Chasen wouldn’t open for business until 1:30 P.M., the bill to start at two, but I wanted to be staked out inside well before then. The “Fleeing Murderer... Guns Blazing!” added attraction was scheduled for 3:45 P.M., at the break between two halves of a double feature. We figured our man would make his move sometime during the first half of the twin bill. It all seemed logical.
Robbie, however, had not been logical. I hadn’t told her of my plan, but she’d seen the ad and called me, raising hell. If I was going to the theater, she wanted to go along; I’d do something crazy and get killed if she didn’t keep an eye on me; a lot of other people would be there, one more wouldn’t hurt. I told her no. We argued. I told her no. Firmly. And that settled that.
I parked a block from the Chasen, walked to the alley entrance behind it. Jim Chasen let me in.
“All quiet?” I said.
“Yeah. Glad you’re here, though. I’ll be in the projection booth, you know.”
“So will I. He’ll have to shoot me before he can shoot you, Jim.” I grinned. “He may not even show up. If he does, there probably won’t be any trouble.”
He laughed sourly. “You make it sound like fun. Want some coffee?”
“Sounds good.”
We walked through the empty theater. Soft music was playing; as we went into the projection booth I commented on it and Jim said: “I always pipe the records in while I’m setting up. Sort of creepy otherwise. Good for the customers, too, when they come in. Gets them in a pleasant mood while they wait for the show.”
He poured hot black coffee. I raised the steaming brew toward my mouth, then froze, cup halfway to my lips. “Jim,” I said, “I’m an idiot.”
“Huh? What’s the matter?”
“We’ve been figuring the guy would walk in unobserved with the other customers. We’d have to let him come in, because we don’t know what he looks like. But he doesn’t know that He undoubtedly thinks we’ve got him made, even have a moving picture of him — that’s the whole idea of this setup. We’ve been looking at this from our point of view, instead of his.”
“Sure, I... Oh.”
“Yeah. If he thinks we know his face, he’s not likely to show it on the way in.” I swore. “More likely he’d try to sneak in here before the rest of the customers. Maybe... about now.”
Jim tried not to show that he was worried. He just spilled his coffee. “You don’t think—”
“Did you look the place over yet? Johns, closets, backstage?”
“No.” He swallowed. “I thought... you said...”
“Yeah. I know what I said.” I stood up. “Maybe it’ll work out that way, too. But I’ll take a look around, anyway.” I paused. “Just in case... maybe you’d better wait out front until I give you the all-clear. If he should be here—”
“You’re right!” He didn’t let me finish. “If something happens — ah — I can call a cop. That seems like a good idea, anyway. Call several cops.”
“Yeah. They won’t be overjoyed by my little plan, but that seems the least of our worries at the moment.”
He said there were two rest rooms off the lobby, another small one, for employees, down at the left-front corner of the theater, and told me where closets and a storeroom were. We left the projection booth and went into the empty lobby. As I took my Colt from its new clamshell holster, Jim scooted with unseemly haste out through the lobby doors. I checked both rest rooms. They were empty. I walked back past the projection booth, down the carpeted aisle. When I was a few feet from the rear entrance through which Jim had admitted me earlier, I heard the door rattle softly. The knob moved slightly; it couldn’t be turned from the outside, but could be opened from inside.
I stepped quickly to the door, held my gun ready, turned the knob, and yanked. As the door flew open I stepped forward, brought up my gun, and jabbed it into a soft white breast. I knew it was soft; I knew it was white; it was Robbie’s.
For a moment my nerves sputtered, and I sputtered, and then I grabbed Robbie’s arm and yanked her inside, pushed the door shut. “You little fool,” I said. “What do you think—”
“Don’t be angry—”
“Don’t be angry? Don’t be—”
“I just wanted to be here. I was in at the start, and I want to be in at the finish.”
“It’ll be your finish, if you don’t—”
“Anyway, I told you I was coming.”
“And I told you you weren’t.”
“Poof.”
I groaned, turned around, and slapped a hand on my head. Then I got a grip on myself. “Robbie, please listen. The guy may be here right now. Or he may show up any second.”
“But you said—”
“I know what the hell I said.” I paused, thinking. “Did anybody see you come down the alley? Or come inside?”
“No. Nobody was out there. Only a fellow sweeping.”
“Sweeping? Sweeping the alley?”
“No, silly. Just in back of his shop. I suppose it was his shop. They sell things made out of driftwood—”
“Maybe it was his shop. I’ll brace that guy and make sure before you go back out there. You’d better wait in the projection booth... No. That’s the place he’ll head for. Just stand still a minute.”
I eased the door open, looked up and down the alley. Nothing. Nobody was in sight. Probably Robbie was right, just a guy sweeping out his shop. But I couldn’t be sure — and if he’d seen her come in...
I turned to Robbie. “Of all the—”
“Don’t swear at me.”
“Well, if this isn’t a—”
“I thought you’d be glad.”
“You what?”
“I thought you’d be glad. That I wanted to be with you, in the heat of battle, in the thick of—”
“Never mind. Boy, here we stand yakking like a couple of psychos while that guy may be drawing a bead on my fat head, squeezing — look, you stand right here while I look around... no, I can’t leave you alone. Come with me. No—”
“Make up your mind.”
“I will make up my mind to sock you if you don’t shut up. Come along while I check this joint. But stay behind me. I’m thick enough to stop at least a couple of bullets. And I probably will now. Oh, brother, one of these days—”
“I thought you’d be glad.”
I quit. “Come on,” I said.
We gave the backstage area a good going over. It was a little spooky back there, with the ropes and electrical cables, speakers and back side of the big screen, and the gloomy corners. But the area was empty of people. I figured I’d checked everything except the employees’ john that Jim had mentioned. It was reached through a short hallway behind curtains at stage left, under a softly glowing “Exit” sign. I went down the little hallway, Robbie silent behind me, reached the door of the small rest room.
I was thinking that after I had checked this spot, and looked around in the alley for the egg who’d been sweeping, I could send Robbie on her way. I was thinking that the guy I was after might be clear across the Mexican border by now. I was thinking once in a while of Robbie, and the fact that although she’d complicated things a bit, it was pleasant in a way that she’d wanted to be with me, and even thinking — briefly — of other facets of Robbie.
I was thinking of entirely too many things.
4.
I pushed open the door and didn’t see anybody, and stuck my head inside for a better look, and from behind the door on my left he jammed the gun so hard against my temple that it knocked my head six inches sideways.
The .38 was in my right hand. I started to slap it forward. Six inches from my ear the click-click of the hammer going back on a revolver. And two words: “Go ahead.”