The Black Lizard Big Book of Black Mask Stories
- Автор: Adams Cleve F., Babcock Dwight V.
- Год: 2010
- Язык: английский
- Год: A Vintage Crime/Black Lizard
- ISBN: 978-0-307-45543-7
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Black Lizard Big Book of Black Mask Stories». Краткое содержание книги:
Black Mask was the apotheosis of noir. It was the magazine where the first hardboiled detective story, which was written by Carroll John Daly appeared. It was the slum in which such American literary titans like Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler got their start, and it was the home of stories with titles like “Murder Is Bad Luck,” “Ten Carets of Lead,” and “Drop Dead Twice.” Collected here is best of the best, the hardest of the hardboiled, and the darkest of the dark of America’s finest crime fiction. This masterpiece collection represents a high watermark of America’s underbelly. Crime writing gets no better than this.
“Huh! That guy, he’s too tight! Says he can’t afford to waste money on a lawyer where there’s no doubt of his innocence.”
“Well, maybe he’s right, at that.” The lieutenant, in dismissal, swung his chair so he could gaze out the window. “Let me know if anything comes through from Hot Springs.”
“Yes, sir.” And the sergeant, knowing Lieutenant Barr’s mood, closed the door gently.
An hour later the phone in Barr’s office rang. The operator announced that a long-distance call from Hot Springs was waiting, charges to be reversed. Growling his acceptance, Barr waited expectantly.
When he put down the phone, his thick brows were knitted in a curious frown. In brief, he had been informed that Mrs. Bertha Ebbett had registered the previous morning at a local hotel under her own name, had paid in advance for a room, and, when told that her husband was being held for the murder of Joe Carson, had demanded permission to return home immediately. Barr had told the Hot Springs police to put her on a plane immediately and to wire him the exact time of the plane’s departure...
Later that afternoon, Lieutenant Barr phoned the coroner’s office and advised the coroner that the witness he had been waiting for had been located and that the inquest could be resumed the following morning.
When Bertha Ebbett was shown into his office, Lieutenant Barr studied her with interest. She seemed slimmer and prettier than the girl whose photograph he had in a folder on his desk. Her pale face was attractive, though her eyes were faintly shadowed with gray. Her step was firm and brisk, and, when they shook hands across his desk, her grasp was cool but sincere.
“What is it about Henry?” she demanded anxiously. “I asked and asked, but all they’d tell me is that he’s supposed to have killed Joe. It isn’t true, is it?”
“Yes, it’s true,” Barr told her gravely, “but it isn’t as bad as it sounds. You needn’t worry about Henry. He’ll undoubtedly be released as soon as the coroner’s inquest is completed.”
“Henry really... killed Joe?”
“Yes.” Barr studied her with his eyes, then said: “I need to know many things about this case, Mrs. Ebbett, which only you can tell me. I’m going to put my questions to you bluntly, without any fancy trimming, and I want you to answer them truthfully.”
“Of course! If there’s anything—”
“Is it true, Mrs. Ebbett, that you and Carson were friendly and that he was to meet you in Hot Springs as soon as—” He paused, stopped by the look of absolutely incredulity which flooded her face.
“What!”
“Is it true or not, Mrs. Ebbett?”
“Of course it isn’t true!”
“Isn’t it true that Mr. Carson was a frequent visitor at your home, even when your husband wasn’t there, and that he often took you to the movies in the evening?”
“Why, yes — but not the way it sounds! The whole idea is fantastic!”
“Why is it fantastic, Mrs. Ebbett? According to your husband, you were unhappy and fought with him continually. Mr. Carson was more nearly your own age, unmarried, attractive, with many interests similar to yours.”
“Henry told you that?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes and sank back in her chair. Barr knew by the way her teeth sank into the red of her lips that she was shocked and fighting desperately for control. When she opened her eyes, her voice was a hoarse whisper: “Tell me... please tell me what happened!”
Barr hesitated, then reached for the folder on his desk. He removed a typed copy of Ebbett’s statement. In a dry, expressionless voice, he read it to her.
“It’s a lie!” she gasped, when he finished. “I don’t understand what’s happening. It’s like a dream, a nightmare. But that” — she pointed at the typewritten sheets — “that’s not true!” Her eyes stared into his, dark and hollow, like two great holes in a loaf of uncooked bread. “Henry couldn’t have said anything like that!”
“He did say it, though,” Barr assured her. “It’s signed, sealed, and sworn to.”
“But don’t you see, I didn’t run away from him! Henry knew I was going to Hot Springs. He gave me the money, bought the ticket!”
“Carson bought the tickets, Mrs. Ebbett. The ticket-seller at the station remembers him. He bought two one-way tickets to Hot Springs last week.”
“But—” She shook her head helplessly. “Then he bought them because Henry asked him to. Joe often did little things like that for Henry, just as he took me to a movie, once in a while, when Henry had extra work to do at home. I tell you there was nothing to it.”
“The second ticket was found in Carson’s pocket,” Barr said gently.
She didn’t get the significance of his statement immediately; when she did, her hands clenched so fiercely that her knuckles stood out.
“Then Henry put it there!” she exclaimed. “When I left, the other ticket was in an envelope on Henry’s dresser. That’s why I engaged a double room. Henry was to have followed me in a couple of days.”
“Did any of your friends know about that arrangement?”
“Joe Carson did.”
“Anyone else?”
“I... don’t know. I’m afraid not. Henry didn’t want anyone at his office to know. You see, he asked for a vacation and was refused. But he was to receive a bonus this week, and, as soon as it was paid to him, he was going to quit his job and come to Hot Springs. I’ve had a bad cough for several months, and he was going to look for work there, so we could stay permanently.”
“In that case, wouldn’t it have been better for you to wait until he received his bonus before leaving? The two of you could have traveled together.”
“Henry insisted that I go on ahead and look for an apartment. He said he’d pack our things and arrange to have the furniture shipped. I didn’t argue because, as I said, I haven’t been well and it seemed like a sensible arrangement.”
Lieutenant Barr shook his head slowly. “It may have seemed sensible to you, Mrs. Ebbett — but I doubt if the coroner’s jury will believe it.”
The coroner’s jury convened the following morning and made short work of the case. Dr. Felix Adelman, the coroner’s physician, testified to the approximate time of death, described the bullet wounds, and stated the results of the autopsy on Carson’s body. Then Henry Ebbett’s signed statement was read.
Experts testified that the bullets found in Carson’s body were from a revolver admittedly owned by Ebbett, and that three bullets, fired from an automatic pistol registered in Carson’s name and found in his hand, had been located in the apartment: two in the sack of flour which Ebbett had been carrying, and one in the wall adjoining the bedroom. Their angles of entrance and trajectory had been established and were in agreement with Ebbett’s statement.
The experts further testified that Carson’s — and only Carson’s — fingerprints had been found on the highball glass, the bottle of liquor, and ashtray. A paraffin test revealed that Carson had actually fired the automatic. The envelope containing the railroad ticket had borne Carson’s and Mrs. Ebbett’s fingerprints — but not Henry Ebbett’s. The ticket-seller identified a photograph of Carson and stated that Carson was the man who had purchased two one-way tickets to Hot Springs from him. A certified public accountant appeared in behalf of the Safeway Loan Company and testified that Carson had embezzled the sum of $21,125 from his employer. A locksmith identified the key found on the table as one made by him for Mrs. Ebbett. The ticket stubs were introduced as evidence, duly identified, and the theatre cashier repeated her story about Carson and Mrs. Ebbett.
Then old Mrs. Pettigrew was called. She stated that, on the day previous to the murder, Mrs. Ebbett had left the house in the middle of the afternoon with two suitcases, and, when Mr. Ebbett returned home from work, he had been obviously shocked at discovering his wife was gone.