The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps
- Автор: Anderson Lars, Barr Randolph
- Год: 2007
- Язык: английский
- Год: Vintage Books
- ISBN: 978-0-307-28048-0
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Black Lizard Big Book of Pulps». Краткое содержание книги:
Weighing in at over a thousand pages, containing over forty-seven stories and two novels, this book is big baby, bigger and more powerful than a freight train — a bullet couldn’t pass through it. Here are the best stories and every major writer who ever appeared in celebrated Pulps like Black Mask, Dime Detective, Detective Fiction Weekly, and more. These are the classic tales that created the genre and gave birth to hard-hitting detectives who smoke criminals like packs of cigarettes; sultry dames whose looks are as lethal as a dagger to the chest; and gin-soaked hideouts where conversations are just preludes to murder. This is crime fiction at its gritty best.
Sarlow knew none of the men present. He had been in the place almost an hour, and he was there because he remembered that Rands had once told him the Negro ran the place for Nasser. And because of the fact that Barney Nasser had been murdered — and Bess Grote had been shot out. Sarlow had been to several places; now he was waiting, swaying in the chair, and watching out of the corners of his eyes.
Hank Sarlow swore softly. A woman laughed shrilly, from one of the rooms above. A tall man with broad shoulders and reddish hair stepped around the corner of the bar. Sarlow had not noticed him before — he guessed that there was an entrance back of the bar. The man’s eyes went around the room and Sarlow kept his head low and swaying a little. He saw the man beckon to the negro he had heard called Blackie, saw his lips move swiftly. Blackie left the room, and Sarlow could hear him faintly, climbing stairs.
There was another peal of laughter, and then sudden silence. The one with the reddish hair turned so that light struck his sharp features clearly.
Sarlow said in a whisper: “Gil — Nasser.”
A voice called from below. “Oh, Blackie—”
There were footfalls on the stairs that led to the third floor — Blackie was descending. The speakeasy was on the second floor — a straight, narrow flight had to be climbed to reach the barroom. The voice below called again:
“Hey — Blackie!”
The Negro came into the room and nodded towards the red-haired one. Then he went on down the stairs. There was a sudden burst of laughter from the group about the slot machine — one man wheeled away from it.
“Drinks are on me!” he announced loudly. “The big shot — turned up!”
The men moved towards the bar. Sarlow kept his eyes on the red-haired one. A short man with a growth of beard went over to him and touched him on the shoulder. He said something, and the red-haired one shook his head, made a gesture with his right hand. Then he turned away and went to a table behind the slot machine. He sat with his body half facing the entrance from the stairs.
Sarlow breathed: “Gil Nasser, all right. Feelin’ pretty bad—”
He raised a dirty hand and pulled his wet hat brim lower over his face. There were footfalls on the stairs again — more than one person was coming up.
Sarlow kept his head low, but his eyes were narrowed on the entrance from the hallway. His body stiffened as the first man came into the room, moved towards the bar. It was Charlie Gay.
The detective felt his heart pound as he saw Kid Deth, close beside Charlie. The left pocket of the Kid’s coat was pressing against Gay’s right side — the two men walked to the bar almost as one human. Gay’s face was white; there was a strained expression in his eyes.
The Kid was smiling a little. He didn’t see Sarlow, but he did see Gil Nasser. The detective knew that, and he knew that Gil Nasser recognized the Kid — and the man his brother had turned up.
At the bar Charlie Gay turned his white face towards the Kid, who had the ex-convict between him and the seated brother of the dead crook. He tried a smile that looked bad. He said something that Sarlow didn’t catch. The Kid spoke to the bartender, who was staring at him.
“Two — whiskey straight,” he ordered.
He kept his body close to the bar, but he looked around the room. Gil Nasser was sitting low in his chair — his big shoulders hunched forward. Sarlow lowered his head and slitted his eyes.
“It’s going to be — a killing!” he breathed to himself. “The Kid has guts — he’s got a rod on Charlie Gay — he went after him—”
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw that Gil Nasser was watching the Kid. Suddenly he saw the brother of the dead crook rise. He moved slowly towards the door. He was within ten feet of it when Kid Deth saw him in the mirror, swung around. The Kid got his back against the wood of the bar — his left hand shoved the material of his coat pocket out.
“All right, Nasser!” he said in a hard voice. “That’s far — enough!”
Gil Nasser swung around. He smiled with his lips bared.
“Jeeze!” he muttered. “If it ain’t — Kid Deth!”
There had been the sound of voices, the clinking of glasses in the room. Now all sound died. Men stood or sat motionless, watching the Kid or Gil Nasser.
Joey Deth said: “Yeah, Nasser — it’s Kid Deth. How’re things?”
Beside the Kid, his body crouched a little, was Charlie Gay. The muscles around his lips were twitching — his eyes were on Gil Nasser’s right hand. The hand was only half in sight — the fingers were buried beneath the material of his left coat lapel.
Gil Nasser said in a voice that was very hard:
“Lousy, Kid.”
Joey Deth kept a smile in his dead-gray eyes. He nodded his head.
“Sure,” he agreed. “Lousy is right.”
Nasser’s right elbow came up a little, but his hand didn’t go deeper behind his coat lapel. Kid Deth said in a voice that barely filled the room.
“Charlie here — he says you gunned out Bess. You figured the bulls would grab me, so I was fixed for the hot spot or a life stretch. And Bess knew too much — so you made her quiet.”
Nasser said: “Yeah? Did Charlie say that?”
Charlie Gay was breathing heavily. His nerve broke — he cried out.
“That’s a — dam’ lie, Nasser — he’s got a gun on me. I never said that—”
His voice broke. The Kid looked at Gil and kept on smiling.
“He’s going yellow, Nasser. The Rands job got him. His mob did for the dick, trying to frame me.”
Gil Nasser stood motionless. He said in a grim tone:
“Yeah? Did he do that job?”
Sarlow sat up a little straighter, stared at Kid Deth. But the Kid was looking at only one human in the room — and that human was watching him in the same manner.
The Kid nodded. “After your brother tried to get Rands — and missed,” he said.
Gil Nasser’s eyes widened a little. He closed his lips and moved the hand inside the coat just a little. Kid Deth said:
“Don’t swing that rod, Nasser. I don’t have to swing mine — just a squeeze—”
Gil Nasser bared his teeth in a smile that wasn’t pretty.
“You — dam’ fool!” he breathed. “You’d never get out of here.”
Joey Deth nodded. “I’d get out — just like you would,” he said. “In the coroner’s basket. And that’s better — than being framed.”
Gil Nasser narrowed his eyes again. He took his right hand away from his coat lapel, let it fall at his side. He shrugged.
“You got me wrong, Kid,” he said. “When did you start packin’ a rod?”
There was a half smile on his face. Joey Deth didn’t smile.
“When you started rubbing out women!” he said steadily.
Nasser took his eyes away from Deth’s and looked at the white face of Charlie Gay. He said with a hard smile:
“Tryin’ to put that deal off on me, eh? Dirty rat!”
Charlie Gay said in a voice that held a half sob of fear:
“I never said — you done it. I swear to God I never said—”
His voice died away. A woman’s voice from somewhere up above called:
“Blackie — come up here—”
Kid Deth smiled almost gently. His eyes were on Gil Nasser’s.
“Blackie’s quiet — from a butt rap,” he said. “Tell her to shut up — we’re talkin’.
Gil Nasser said: “Sure, Kid — anything to keep you—”
He turned his back to the Kid, took a step towards the door that led to the hallway. But Joey saw his right arm crook — the hand flash upward. As Nasser’s words died he swung around. The first bullet from his gun got Charlie Gay in the stomach — the second got the wood of the bar.