Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 137, No. 1. Whole No. 833, January 2011
- Автор: Коуди Лиза, Faherty Terence
- Год: 2011
- Язык: английский
- Год: Dell Magazines/Crosstown Publications
- ISBN: ISSN 0013-6328
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 137, No. 1. Whole No. 833, January 2011». Краткое содержание книги:
I picked up the shades and went down the back steps into the alley. Whoever snatched Karin probably went this way too, or the kid on the desk might have noticed someone abducting a naked five-foot ten-inch blonde through his lobby. But there was nothing to find out back in the alley, so I drove the Mercury out to the Maldaus’.
11
At nine o’clock, I parked on a side street off Lincoln Boulevard and made my way along the beach towards the Maldau place. I found a footpath that led up to 25th Avenue North, and hustled up it. The house was quiet. There was a new Jaguar roadster in the driveway, and a low-slung modified car with flames painted on the side parked in the street out front. I think it had once been a Chevy. I slipped into a service alley wide enough for a man on the west side of the house, and made my way back to the beach side, where there was a big redwood deck across the rear. I found some French doors, slipped my knife between them, forced the lock, and slipped into the Maldau kitchen.
I went through the dining room to the front parlor, where I saw two men. One, in a sharkskin suit, had grey hair and his back was to me. The other wore a zoot suit. He faced me, but now he had no sunglasses. I was backlit by the sun in the east windows of the dining room. I took out an Old Gold King from Karin’s pack and lit up. The zoot-suit kid said, “What are you doing here?” Then the other gent turned around.
“Ah, you must be Mr. Swiver,” he said, with equanimity.
“And you’re Agustin Maldau,” I said with what self-possession I could muster. “I brought your Mercury back. Nice ride.” I tossed the keys at his face, but he snagged them with the grace of Joe DiMaggio pulling in a liner to center. “Pardon me for not knocking, Maldau. I haven’t had my morning coffee and thought I’d see if you had any on in the kitchen. Why don’t you introduce me to your friend in the Sleepy Lagoon getup?” The kid had reached in his pants and pulled out a nickel-plated Colt revolver. It was pointing my way and it was a dangerous gun, but I was twelve or fifteen feet away, and I thought he was having trouble looking into the sun.
“Ha, ha, ha. Sure. This is Pacho Valdes. Pacho, meet Frank Swiver. He’s the gentleman who recovered your goods. He’s a shamus.”
“Do we need bean-shooters, Maldau?”
“I should hope not. Pacho, put up your gun.”
“No hasta que tiro este maricón.” Pacho was being disingenuous; I figured he had first-hand knowledge of my sexual bent.
Maldau’s eyes hardened and he pulled a blue automatic out of his jacket pocket. “Put it away, Pacho. Now. I don’t want you to shoot him in my house.” That registered, and the kid lost the revolver somewhere in the pleats of his trousers. “Now go see if he’s rodded.”
“I’m not, but if I was, it would take more than this greaseball to take it from me.”
“Skip the tough-guy stuff, Swiver. I’m not letting you get the drop on us. Pacho.” Maldau nodded in my direction, and the zoot-suit kid swaggered over. I let him search me with what he thought was a rough flourish. I’ve had worse.
“He’s clean,” he told Maldau. Maldau put his heater back in his pocket.
“By the way, how is Mrs. Maldau today?” I said. “Or haven’t you seen her?”
“I don’t want to see her.” He spit on the carpet.
“I brought her home. She’s dead. I figure Pacho knows about that.” Pacho slugged me on the button with a short right hand. I rolled my head back with it, and kept my feet planted.
“Cabrón,” he muttered through clenched teeth. My lip started to bleed. I spit on the carpet.
“Yeah, I figured it was like that. See, Mr. Maldau, Karin was in bed with me.”
“And for that she died. You were one too many, smart guy. I told Pacho to kill her. Pacho was business, but her skating with you was... well, she should have known I couldn’t allow that.”
“You told Pacho?”
“That’s right. When you brought the car back, I called him. I told him to get out here, follow you two, and pick up his goods. I said if he blipped Karin off too, he could come back this morning and I’d give him his money back in payment.”
“Yeah,” said Pacho. “Let’s get on with that, man. I want to get out of here.”
“Certainly, my friend,” said Maldau. “Your money is in the desk in the library. It’s still in your bag. Please go ahead. Second drawer on the right.” Maldau pointed at another set of doors across the room. Pacho rolled across the room as if he was walking underwater. “And Mr. Swiver, we must decide what to do with you. Get in here and sit down.” Maldau’s gun came out of his pocket again. I stepped down to the living room and found a leather chair. He sidled across to the front window, keeping me covered. He moved the curtain for a quick look, then did a double take.
“Where is the Mercury?”
“Parked nearby. How did you know I was out here last night with the car?”
“I’m not ready to tell that yet. Where did you park? Where is the body?”
“I’m not ready to tell that yet.” I said. He was across the room in two steps and tried to pistol-whip me. I ducked enough so he just got my shoulder. I don’t think it cracked the clavicle, but pain shot down my right arm.
About then, Pacho Valdes returned from the library with the same black leather bag I’d found in the trunk. He held it in front of himself by one handle, and his right hand dug around inside the satchel. Maldau turned to face him. “Pacho, we’ve got to find the Mercury.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“I found it last night. I don’t want to look for it again. It’s your problem.”
Maldau stretched his lips thin with hatred. “You little punk. He’s got the body in the trunk. Don’t screw with me. You killed her. You need my protection.”
“I don’t think so. I got my money.”
Maldau started to raise his gun at Pacho. A hole ripped through the end of the black bag. There was a muffled boom, and Maldau clutched his gut. Two more booms, and shreds of money and leather flew out of the bag. Maldau went down. Pacho withdrew his right hand and the smoking revolver from the satchel, and snapped the sides shut.
“Now I can shoot you anyplace I want, maricón.”
“Maybe you can’t see me so good without your shades, Pacho.” I stood up and backed towards the dining room and the eastern light.
“Maybe I come a little closer, smart guy.”
When Pacho reached the middle of the living room, there was a roar from behind him, and he lurched forward as if he’d been poleaxed. Another explosion and he dropped his pistol and clutched the red blossom on the front of his suit. His eyes rolled up into his head and he fell on his face. Behind him stood Yan Bao-yu with a Luger in her hand.
“I hear everything. He kill Missy Karin.”
I finished the Old Gold and put the butt in an ashtray. I was pretty stoned.
12
I stepped into the library where Pacho had just been and found a phone on the desk. I had it in my hand and had already dialed the number for the cops when Bao-yu came in.
“Who you call?”
“Police,” I said. It was a delicate moment. She seemed to be a good shot.
“Put phone down. No want police.”
“Put Luger down, Bao-yu. I’m Miss Karin’s friend. You saved me from Pacho.” The cops picked up. I heard, “Homicide, Overby,” come over the wire.