The Deep
- Автор: Спиллейн Микки
- Год: 1961
- Язык: английский
- Год: E. P. Dutton & Company
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Deep». Краткое содержание книги:
Deep was back in town after a twenty-five year exile — to inherit an empire and avenge a death. He and Bennett had made the inheritance pact when they were kids — blood brothers in crime. They had known then that even New York was too small for them both to share, and so they had tossed a coin to determine who would stay and who would build his organization in another town. Deep had lost and gone.
But now Bennett has lost — been murdered in his own home — and Deep is ready to prove lie is strong enough to take over. Deep wants Bennett’s killer; the others want Bennett’s job. And all too many of them — including the beautiful Irish — want Deep dead.
The Deep is the mastermind in one of the most exciting stories Spillane has ever written — a breathtaking tale of violence in action.
It was a big square cement-walled room with powdery white frosting all over and mildew touching the furniture. Henny saw me eyeing the empty space at the end and said nervously, “Cat... he took out that old couch. Mr. Bennett let him. If you want, I can...”
“Forget it.”
“The radio still works. Sometimes I listen to it. When Mr. Bennett was here them times with the jug we sat and listened. Only gets one or two stations.”
I stepped down the rest of the way for a better look around. The smell of dust and damp became familiar again and it didn’t seem like twenty-five years had passed since the last time I was in here. The same curtains still hung, shielding the alcove off where the cot was and the door on one side to the coal bin still hung on hinges that had nails through them for pins.
“Mr. Deep, I got a jug in there if you’d like a pull? Kind of like celebrating the old days, huh?”
“Later maybe.” I turned back to the stairs. “Come on, let’s blow.”
Henny seemed almost disappointed by my attitude. “Mr. Bennett, he liked it down here.”
“Well, I don’t.”
“Mr. Deep, what’ll I do with all the stuff Mr. Bennett ordered?”
“What stuff?”
“Fifty cases of imported beer and all those cases of mixers. The guy from National Distributing wanted to know where to deliver it.”
“You got me. What was it for?”
Henny’s shoulders came up in an exaggerated shrug. “Who tells me? Mr. Bennett was gonna throw a party. He told me to get the big room ready for a big time. I ast him about the jugs and he said he’d take care of that end hisself. You know Mr. Bennett... he wouldn’t let no jugs lay around here. He always brought it all up hisself.”
“When did this happen?”
“Same day he got killed. You think I ought tell ’em to take it back? Don’t suppose there’ll be any party now. Hell, I didn’t know what kinda party it was supposed to be anyway. Big stag blowout Mr. Bennett said. He was throwing hisself a stag party oney I don’t know why. Just said he had a big surprise for everybody.”
“Well, there won’t be any party now. Tell National to cancel it.”
“Okay, Mr. Deep.”
I took a quick tour through the building with Henny in my wake, whining an opinion about almost everything and hopefully trying to find out if I was going to keep him on. When I said I would he quit whining and followed me quietly.
When we were downstairs again I asked him, “Did Bennett have a safe in the building?”
“Safe? No, sir. Any papers like after a meeting he took out. He never kept nothin’ here.”
The assumption was logical enough. Anybody could get into the building without any trouble including the kids. If Bennett kept anything big on board old Henny certainly couldn’t stop them from tearing the place apart piece by piece to find it. Even if anybody thought there was something hidden on the premises they could always put a torch to the place and that would be that.
No, if Bennett had a package someplace it would be safe from fire, theft or anything else.
The only annoying thing about it was the knowledge that he would have made sure there was some way I’d know how to find it.
It’ll be just you and me, Bennett, I had said. Why the hell whack this town in half when it’s only big enough for one of us? We ain’t always gonna be kids, by damn. We shot out Sobel’s behind. Pretty soon we’ll be talkin’ loud enough for everybody to hear.
Damn right, Deep, Bennett told me. These days you gotta look ahead. You gotta think big. Them other punks upstairs, they talk big but they all work for some other punk. Me, you, we’re gonna be top punks. Hell, not punks. Big shots. Just like that. I can smell it comin’.
And nobody could think bigger than me. Sure. So why compete? There’s other cities and other places. We stay here and pretty soon we’re bumping heads. That good? Hell, no. So we split. We flip a coin and loser takes off and finds a new place to take over. That’s thinking sensible, pal. No blood being spilled in the family for us.
It wasn’t new talk. We had planned it months ago and we knew every detail of it. Whoever goes, Deep, I’m sure gonna miss you. Remember how we said... like if anything happens to the other one, his buddy will get everything? Whatever I get if anything happens to me you can have and you’ll know where it’ll be. I’ll never change. K.O.’s ain’t like them other clubs. We signed it in blood.
Damn right, Bennett!
Okay, who’ll flip the coin?
Wake up that wino Henny back there. Let him do it.
He woke up Henny who tossed the coin. It came up tails. I lost. We shook hands solemnly and I walked out to find my own turf. I had never come back until now.
Absently, I said, “Henny, do you remember flipping the coin?”
Henny looked back just as absently. He didn’t even know what I was talking about. I gave him a fin for his trouble and stood on the street corner until a cab came by and gave him Batten’s address.
A new Picasso had been added to the Gauguins on the wall. It was a smear of color and crooked forms and the signs of being expensive. Batten sat tilted back in his chair looking at it and when he turned his head the girl behind me said without apology, “He wouldn’t let me call, Mr. Batten.”
Wilse nodded, the girl smiled at me and closed the door.
“Don’t spend money you haven’t got yet, Batty.”
“I can wait.” He rolled over to the desk and made himself comfortable. When I sat down he asked, “What’s on your mind?”
“Bennett.”
“Ah, yes.”
“Did he have a safe deposit box anywhere?”
Batten let a sardonic smile twist the edges of his mouth. “Still looking, Deep?”
“You got to dig to find gold.”
“You find lead the same way.”
“Don’t be so damned enigmatic, friend.”
The smile came loose and his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t mean to be. I thought a blunt person like you would understand.”
“It came through. Now let’s speak plainly.”
He waved vaguely.
“Did Bennett ever hint to you what he was holding over everybody’s head?”
“Never.”
“You were his only legal advisor?”
“The only one.”
“You were aware, of course, how Bennett operated.”
The chair came forward and Batten leaned into his desk. “Let’s not be so specific. It was a conclusion I came to that was the basis of long examination. I see you came to the same one yourself.”
“It wasn’t hard. It was hinted at pretty strongly.”
“Well, it isn’t spoken of as general conversation, let’s say. When you discuss certain people it’s always quietly and in private and even then you can’t be sure who’s listening in. The best thing to do is keep quiet about it.”
“I’m not the quiet type.”
“You can be a dead type.”
“But not until your connection has been definitely established.”
“Like how, Batten?”
“If you’re no threat you go out for talking too loudly. If you are a threat you get the ax taken away and get hit for trying to move in and wave it.”
“Tell me about Bennett.”