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.
Frost went down the steps slowly. He walked along the passage and heard sounds of music, struggling to free itself of the confinement and get into the air. He could sense the struggle. He paused at the cabin door and listened. An electric gramaphone. Someone evidently was unworried. He rapped on the door.
It opened and he thrust his foot inside. He pried it open with his leg and entered, his gun drawn.
He faced a woman — and gasped.
“You!”
“You!”
His companion of La Estrellita!
Here — in full panoply, arrayed like a queen; against a background of luxury. For a moment he was nonplussed. A lot had happened. This was the crowning blow. He gradually recovered, and thought about the awkward picture he presented there with his pistol drawn.
“Miss Stevens,” he coughed, embarrassed. “Er—”
“How do you do, Captain?” she said. “Sit down.” Frost did so. “Do you find it helps the effect when you visit a young lady with drawn revolver?”
Frost grinned. “Well, I hardly expected to find you like this. I thought—”
“Yes,” she beamed; “they are good to me, aren’t they?”
She nonchalantly moved across the cabin to a wall telephone. He thought that rather an odd thing for a prisoner to do — telephone. That simple act brought the pieces of the puzzle together with a click. Frost had just been told there were two women on board. One he expected to find a prisoner — Helen Stevens. But this woman was no prisoner—
Catherine!
With pent-up fury he leaped from his chair and was beside her before she could get an answer. He snatched the telephone out of her hand and replaced it. He faced her, flushing with anger.
“Get away!” he said. “And I hope it won’t be necessary for me to kill you!”
She lifted her face in a half sneer. “Well,” she said, moving in a swagger, “how long do you think you can get away with this high-handed stuff?”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Frost said.
There was the sound of a knock on a door in another wall than that by which he had entered.
“Who’s in there?” he demanded.
“Find out for yourself,” she snapped.
“I will,” he said. He observed her with something not unlike admiration. “So you’re Catherine, eh?” He was a little taken aback. Disappointed. Once he had had an adventure with her. Men do not easily forget such things. Now it all came back in a rush... her indifference to the danger in La Estrellita... the tapping of her fingers on the glass was a signal...
He glared: “You tried to trap me, didn’t you? Tried to get me killed?”
She laughed. “Why not? You bumped off the only man I ever loved, and for that I’m going to get you, Frost. What a pity those saps didn’t kill you that night in Algadon!”
“Yes,” he mused; “what a pity! You know — you’re a damned attractive woman to be mixed up with a rotten gang like this.”
“I’m going to stay mixed. You can’t bluff me, Frost. I don’t scare worth a damn.”
“Maybe you don’t. Oh, by the way; I neglected to tell you I locked three of your thugs in the hold. Also,” this casually, “I had to bump off a couple of ’em. Now who’s the woman in the other room?”
“Nobody. That is—”
“Get that door open, or I’ll tear it down!”
She got up sullenly and unlocked the narrow door. Through it another woman stumbled, her hair disheveled, her clothes wrinkled, her face worried. She saw Frost and stopped short.
“It’s all right,” Frost said reassuringly, “I’m a policeman. Who are you?”
“I’m—”
“Don’t you talk!” came the swift interruption. “This bum means no good.” She tried to reach the woman’s side, but Frost intervened.
“Never mind her,” he said. “I’m Frost of the Rangers.”
“Oh! Frost!” she murmured the words. “I’m Helen Stevens. I’ve been a prisoner for a week.”
“Huh! Are you a newspaper woman?”
“Yes.”
Frost grinned broadly, spread his legs and said: “Well, sit down, ladies, and get comfortable. This ought to be good.”
Then it was that Frost observed both women were about the same height and build, and that the genuine Helen Stevens wore a brown ensemble similar to the one worn by his companion that night in La Estrellita. He began to see the light.
“A week ago,” said Helen Stevens, “I was kidnaped in Jamestown, drugged and brought here. I don’t know why. I never had an enemy in my life.”
“There’s no puzzle there,” Frost said. “This jane here is the ex-sweetheart of an ex-racketeer who was allied with the Black Ship gang and bumped off by Hell’s Stepsons. She wanted revenge on me; the way to get that was remove you and assume your identity.” He smiled appreciatively. “That right, Mrs. Singleton?”
“You go to hell!”
“So,” mused Helen Stevens, slightly more at ease, “you’re Captain Frost. I was on my way to see you — had a letter from the Adjutant-General. It was stolen with my luggage!”
“I got it,” Frost grinned. “You’ll learn after a while that this is a high-powered gang you’re dealing with.”
Helen Stevens was surveying the broad figure of Jerry Frost, remembering tales of his prowess in the skies of France and in the jungles of Latin America — El Beneficio they called him then — surveying him in frank admiration.
“I think,” Frost said, “it would be wise to get going. This boat has got a date I’d rather not keep. First, I’m afraid we’ll have to tie up the hellcat.”
The hellcat got to her feet, her eyes burning with passionate hatred, and leaped at Frost. She landed in his lap and they both went over backwards with the chair. His pistol rattled on the hardwood floor.
“Get that gun!” he yelled, a moment before she clawed at his face. She interposed a few choice oaths, and hammered Frost about the ears with her fists. They squirmed on the floor inelegantly until he managed to get a hammer-lock on her arm. She swore and cried out in pain.
“Pipe down and I’ll let you go!” Frost said. “Otherwise I’ll break it off.” His eyes fell on the silk cord knotted around port hole draperies and he said to Helen Stevens, “Get that cord.”
She untied it and brought it to him. Frost slipped it around the woman’s wrists and tied her hands behind her. Then he took off his belt and strapped it tightly around her ankles. To complete the job he took out his handkerchief and crammed it in her mouth.
“Now,” he said; “I need a bandage.”
Helen Stevens did not hesitate. She lifted her dress, revealed a sheeny knee and a silk petticoat. She ripped it, jerked off a strip and handed it to Frost.
“Great stuff!” he said. “I’m beginning to think you’ll do!”
“You’re damned right I’ll do!” she admitted.
Frost tied the gag and then stepped back to inspect his craftmanship. Apart from the woman’s squirming, and nobody has ever invented a way to stop that, he had to confess it was very good.
“Not bad for a beginner,” he observed.
The woman grunted and her eyes flashed. Frost picked her up and deposited her, none too carefully, on a lounge. He whispered in her ear: “Now we’re going up to take the wheel.” She grunted again, and in a fit of temper wriggled to the floor with a bang.
Frost looked at her loftily. “All right, baby — suit yourself.”
Helen Stevens handed him his pistol and said: “Don’t you think it would be wise to use the radio and let somebody know where we are?”
Frost slanted his head from side to side as if he had known her a century; decided she, too, was a fluffy bit of femininity. His light mood was sharpened by his success. “Another great idea,” he said. “Let’s have a look.”