100 Malicious Little Mysteries
- Автор: Alter Robert Edmond, Азимов Айзек
- Год: 1981
- Язык: английский
- Год: Barnes & Noble Books
- ISBN: 978-1-56619-922-3
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «100 Malicious Little Mysteries». Краткое содержание книги:
“You’re insane,” Philippe said.
Manuel went on as if he hadn’t heard. “The trouble, of course, is the police,” he explained. “They find a body, and they start searching for a murderer. They check for clues; they try to find witnesses; they try to establish a motive. They slowly close their net until they find their killer. It is almost inevitable.”
“Yes, yes. Inevitable. If you kill me, they will find you and hang you.” Philippe pounced on the thought. “You don’t want to be hanged. Now leave here, and we’ll forget all about it. I promise you, I shall not say a—”
“The trick,” Manuel went on, as if his brother had said nothing, “is to stop this process before it starts. And I’ve found a way. It came to me while I was listening to the radio. It’s a clever idea, but very simple. What bodies do they find that do not cause them to search for a murderer?”
Philippe said nothing.
“I will tell you. Now, in this part of the city, during the riots, there is much looting going on at night. The Guardias shoot anyone they find looting. Such bodies are buried without question. If one of the bodies happens to be the owner of a store instead of a looter, a regrettable mistake has been made, and that is the end of it. You see how simple it is?”
Manuel took the revolver in both hands and pointed it at his brother’s head. “Bang,” he said.
“You’re crazy,” Philippe said, starting to shake uncontrollably.
“You see something wrong with the plan?” Manuel asked.
“They’ll hang you.”
“How are they going to catch me?”
Philippe did not answer.
“Turn around,” Manuel said.
“What?”
“Turn around. I’m going to tie you up. When I hear some shooting, so I know the Guardias are out, I’m going to drag you outside. Then, bang! The Guardias never come up the street to see the looters they’ve shot until morning, for fear of ambush, so you’ll lie there until daylight. Of course, I’ll untie you before I leave. Regrettable accident. I shall cry when I hear the news.”
Manuel tied and gagged his brother with rags that wouldn’t leave marks, and continued sitting on the desk staring at Philippe. Philippe tried to meet his brother’s stare with a defiant look. “Bang,” Manuel said softly, and Philippe looked away.
Manuel took a thick, black cigar out of a box on the desk, and lit it with a wooden match from his pocket. “Would you also like a cigar?” he asked his brother politely. Philippe shook his head.
Time passed. Manuel lit another cigar from the stub of the first one, and then a third from the stub of the second. The street outside was dark and silent. Suddenly there was the sound of breaking glass, and then of running feet. A loud cracking sound was heard, and the feet stopped running.
“It’s almost time,” Manuel said.
From a few blocks away there were new noises, and then more gunshots. Soon the siren of a fire-engine filled the night with its wail.
“Time,” Manuel announced. He dragged his brother to the door of the shop, and then outside to the slightly set-in doorway, and propped him up against the wall.
“Good-bye, Philippe.”
Manuel took three steps away from the doorway, turned and raised his pistol as though he were engaged in a duel. He took a last, deep drag on the cigar, and...
At first they thought it was just another looter. “There he is,” one of the Guardias said to his partner, “the one I shot at last night. I told you I saw a burning cigarette.”
“Cigar,” the second one said, looking down.
“Look over here,” the first one called, “there’s someone tied up in this doorway.”
Acting Job
by Richard Deming
The man was tall and pale, with a wooden expression and hooded eyes. He would have been perfect in the movie role of Jack-the-Ripper. Myrna Calvert hesitated before letting him in, then seemed to decide it was silly to let his appearance bother her.
“Come in, Mr. Moore,” she said coolly, stepping aside to let him go past her into the apartment and closing the door behind him.
He glanced around the actress’ front room, approving its tasteful furnishings. When she invited him to sit, he gave his head a nearly imperceptible shake.
“I won’t be here that long,” he said, barely moving his lips. “I’ll just say what I have to say and leave. But first, I didn’t quite tell you the truth over the phone.”
The woman’s green eyes narrowed. “You don’t really have any life-or-death information for me?”
“Oh, that part was the truth. Only my name isn’t Moore. I’m not going to tell you my real name.”
Myrna’s lovely features were marred by a frown. She studied him suspiciously.
He said, “Before I explain just what this is all about, I want you to know why I’m telling you. I’ve seen every play you’ve ever been in, Miss Calvert. I think you’re the finest actress and the loveliest woman who ever walked on a stage.”
Myrna’s back stiffened. “If this is just some trick to get an autograph—”
“It isn’t,” he interrupted. “I just don’t want you to be scared of me. You would be if I told you why I’m here before letting you know how I feel about you. I want you to know I wouldn’t harm you for anything.”
The actress looked surprised. “Why should you harm me?”
“It’s my business,” he said dryly. “I belong to an organization which disposes of people for a handsome fee.”
Myrna’s eyes gradually widened until they were enormous. In an incredulous tone she said, “You mean you’ve been hired to kill me?”
“My organization has. I’ve been assigned the job. I don’t intend to do it.”
After a period of shocked silence, she asked faintly, “Who wants me dead?”
The man raised his eyebrows. “I figured you’d know that. I was just given the job, not the reason.”
Myrna paced to a sideboard, took a cigarette from a box and lit it. “Why have you risked telling me this, Mr. whatever-your-name-is? Won’t your organization be angry with you?”
“I don’t plan on them finding it out.”
“Suppose I called the police and asked for protection? Wouldn’t they know then?”
He shrugged. “You could probably get me killed, if you’re that ungrateful. Are you?”
She studied him with an undecided expression on her face. “You’re taking this risk just because you’re a fan of mine?”
“A little more than that, Miss Calvert.”
“Oh? What?”
“I’ve been in love with you for five years,” he said quietly. “Don’t let it upset you. It’s from a distance and I never expected to meet you. I don’t plan to bother you. When I walk out of here you’ll never see me again. I just don’t want you dead.”
After contemplating him for a time, she said, “I’m flattered. And very lucky too, I suspect. You look like an efficient killer.”
“I am,” he said dryly.
She took a quick, nervous puff on her cigarette and stubbed it out. “You don’t know any details of this plot?”
“There was a condition attached,” he said. “I’m supposed to tail you. If you caught a plane for Europe tonight, I was supposed to forget it. If you didn’t, I was supposed to move in and do the job.”
Her nostrils flared. “Max Fenner!” she said.
“The theatrical producer?” he inquired.
She gave a jerky nod. “I knew he hated me, but I didn’t think he’d go this far. He must be mad.”
“What’s his beef?”
“He’s over a barrel,” she said viciously. “I want the lead in his new play. He’s already signed Lynn Jordan, and he knows she’ll sue his pants off if he reneges on the contract. But I’m in a position to cause him even more trouble if he doesn’t play ball.”