Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 140, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 853 & 854, September/October 2012
- Автор: Макдермид Вэл, Манфредо Лу
- Год: 2012
- Язык: английский
- Год: Dell Magazines
- ISBN: 0013-6328
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 140, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 853 & 854, September/October 2012». Краткое содержание книги:
“Maybe Velma had to powder her nose,” I said.
“Yeah, maybe. And maybe my no-good husband had to go shake the bishop’s hand. But I think something’s up. I told that son of a bitch tonight, if he did it again...” but she let the rest trail off. So we sat a few minutes and drank our drinks. We waited long enough for a seventy-year-old man with a bad prostate to return from the restrooms. Velma and Jed didn’t appear. Then Jane put a smile on her face. “Well, what the hell are we doing sitting here like a couple saps? I came to town to have a good time. I got a room. Why don’t you come on up?”
I hesitated. Usually that was my line.
“Look, shamus, I’m not going back to Geyserville tonight. Me and Jed are booked in here at the Biarritz, separate rooms. So the ice is staying here and you’re watching the ice. Come on up and do your job.”
“Let’s go,” I said, and stood up and put out my arm for the lady.
In the lobby, I saw Stosh leaning on a post with tomorrow’s funnies. I asked him if he’d seen Jamison come out, and he pointed upstairs with his thumb and a roll of his eyes. Jane stopped at the desk and picked up a key. Quicker than you could say “dangerous liaisons,” we were in the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Jane started climbing me like a schoolgirl shimmying up the old apple tree. I fell back against the wall of the lift and the car shook in the shaft. The elevator boy turned around but I gave him an unkind look and he faced forward again until we got up to twelve.
Somehow I got Jane off me, and we walked down the hall to her room. She gave me the key and I put it in the keyhole while she blew hot breath in my ear and slid a hand in my pocket. We stumbled inside; I put on the lights. The wine-dark dress slid right off, and we left it on the floor.
3.
I called down to the desk afterward, and had them send up a deck of Camels and a bottle of Moët. I thought of getting Paul Masson, but Jane said to put it on the room tab. We lay next to each other and smoked and drank some Champagne. Jane was naked except for the White Tiger, which she’d kept on, and she looked spectacular.
Jane blew out a long stream of smoke and said, “You know, Frank, I think I’ve got to dump Jed and start again.”
I took a sip of the Moët, which was cool and crisp, but not icy. “Can you do that, baby?”
“Well, the land is still mine — all in my name. I think everything else, the winery, the cars, the bank accounts — that’s all Jed’s.”
I smoked.
“I need a divorce. Jed will never give me one willingly because he wants the land.”
I had a drink.
“But he’s in room eleven-oh-two now, giving me grounds for a divorce,” she said. “All I need is evidence. Evidence that he’s screwing around. Your friend...”
“Velma.”
“Velma. She’s not the first one. We’ve been married ten years, and he’s been doing this sort of thing whenever he gets the chance. He makes me feel like such a fool.” She drank. “He’s had twenty Velmas.” Not really, I thought. There’s only one Velma.
I reached for the bottle and poured a little Champagne below the White Tiger necklace and watched the bubbles trickle down between her knockers. I pulled the sheet off her, leaned over, and put my tongue in her navel. When the wine started to pool there, I lapped it up and worked my way north with my tongue.
“Frank, you’re a private dick. What if I hire you? You could go over there and take some pictures. That’s all I need. He’s in room eleven-oh-two. I stopped at the desk and got the extra key for Jed’s room.”
“Mmmm. I’m sorry, Jane. I don’t do divorce work.”
“Please, Frank,” she said. “I can’t live like this anymore.”
“No. I never wanted to be the kind of peeper who waited in the bushes with a camera. It’s cheap. I’m poor, but I’m not cheap. Besides, tonight, it doesn’t seem ethical. I’m doing the same thing with you that your husband is doing with Velma. If he’s guilty, what are you?”
We had a drink. I finished my cigarette and snubbed it out.
Jane frowned and took a last drag on her Camel. She exhaled and brightened again, “Well, that first one was to get even with Jed for skating around. Now let’s do it for us.” She rolled me over and climbed on top. “Frank,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Go over to room eleven-oh-two and take a picture.”
“I don’t have my camera,” I said.
“I’ll bet you can get one.”
“Where? It’s after midnight.”
“Hey, you’re friends with the house dick, aren’t you?” Jane said. “I’ll bet he keeps one around. Frank, I’ve got to get a divorce. Jed beats me, you know.”
“He beats you?”
“Sure. We have separate bedrooms up at the ranch. Jed’s a real bastard, with a temper. He takes it out on me. The only time he comes to my room is when he wants to rough me up. It gets him excited.”
“I can’t do divorce work, Jane. I never have,” I said.
“You know, the only reason I’m not covered with bruises now is he wanted me to wear that red dress tonight, and he knew bruises would show. So he hasn’t beat me for about three weeks. Except here. Look.” She rolled over on her front and lifted her ass. I sat up. Hidden just at the bottom of the butt cheeks and across the back of her upper thighs were red welts. “See that? He’s got these leather thongs... He’s probably so frustrated with pent-up anger, he’s probably beating your blond friend.”
I was already out of bed, stepping into my trousers. “He’s vicious,” Jane said. “I have more meat on me than she does. She could really get hurt.”
I wasn’t happy about Velma being with Jamison in the first place, but she was a big girl. It wasn’t my business who she tumbled with. But I couldn’t let her get beat up by a sadist. I pulled on my shirt. “All right. I’m going to pay your hubby a visit. First I’ll go down and see Kosloski. If he has a camera, fine. I’ll take it with me and get some photos. Give me the key to his room.” I grabbed my fedora and headed for the door.
“Thank you, Frank. You’re wonderful, you know that?”
A few minutes later I was creeping along the eleventh-floor hallway. It had green and magenta wallpaper in a quiet floral pattern, some side tables with vases of quiet flowers on them and mirrors behind them, and my gumshoes sank into the deep pile of the quiet carpet. Stan Kosloski’s Leica camera was slung around my neck and Jane’s key to 1102 was in the palm of my hand. I was wonderful. But something was wrong about this; I could feel it. I don’t know if you ever did something where it didn’t feel right, but you couldn’t help yourself. Did you ever get on that ride you didn’t want to be on, but you stayed put and didn’t say anything until it was too late and they’d put the bar down? That’s how I felt. Maybe it was the peeping with the camera — divorce work. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I knew I was making a mistake, but it was too late to get off this ride.
I slid the key in the lock, turned the knob silently, and eased open the door to 1102. There was a dim light coming from the bathroom on the far side of the bed. I was backlit from the hallway. I raised the camera and took the picture. The flash lit up the room. In flagrante. I popped the bulb out on the floor. Velma screamed and I pushed in another bulb. Say cheesy. I fired again. Dee-licto!
Jed Jamison must have been half-blinded, but he lunged off the bed and came at me. He stepped on the first bulb, yelled in pain, and picked up his foot. “Velma,” I said, “are you okay?”
“Oh, God, Frank? Is that you?”
Jed was hopping on one foot, and I stepped forward and shoved him over with one hand. He went down against the nightstand, and the lamp fell off the table in his face.