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.
“Exactly,” said Sarah.
“But listen — if you mean you think he killed—”
“I know he killed her.”
“Well, then, why the hell all the dramatics? Why the hell didn’t we get him at the landing field?”
“You’re forgetting we also want to get the necklace.”
“What of it? If he killed her, he’s got the necklace. We’d have got it. You could simply have claimed it for old Hecker.”
“And had the cops hold it as evidence for months? Listen, Bennie. I set out to steal that necklace, and I’m going to steal it, for reasons of my own. Bennie, in which of a man’s pockets do you think he’d be likely to hide a diamond — a necklace he thought was diamonds?”
“Listen, you damn fool woman. If that guy has the necklace, let him keep it. He’s dangerous!”
“Bennie,” said Sarah, “don’t worry about me. Now, think! Where’d he be likely to put that necklace?”
“God knows. The Gautier necklace is pretty bulky, so the imitation must be, too. He might hide it in his luggage, far as that goes.”
“He has no luggage. He must have hopped that train in a hurry, must have learned at the last minute that the necklace was on board. Think, now, Bennie! Which pocket?”
“Wait a mo,” said Ben Todd, slowly. “I’m remembering something — in the dining car, while you were shovelling in grub, I was watching. I saw that guy take his wallet out to pay. He took it out of an inside coat pocket, left hand side. The pocket seemed to have some special kind of zipper arrangement on it.”
“Bennie, you’re worth your wages, sometimes! Let’s see, now. The next landing is in three quarters of an hour. In about half an hour, Bennie, I’m going to be sick.”
“Sick? Whad’ya mean, sick?”
“Sick. Lots of people get sick on planes. I never rode on a plane before, and I’m a sensitive nature, Bennie. I’m not only going to be sick, but I’m going to get hysterical. I’m going to do some staggering and some screeching. I’m going to stagger up front and then I’m going to stagger back.”
“Listen, Sarah, for hell’s sake! That fellow’s a killer. He’s dangerous.”
“After I stagger back, Bennie, I’m going to stagger into that little cubbyhole right behind you. Your job is to see that that little snip of a stewardess don’t follow me in there. After I’m in, Bennie, just let things take their course... just let things take their course.”
Sarah turned squarely around. She became absorbed in peering out of her window. Ben Todd regarded the grey, rocky knob of hair on the back of her head for a long time. His lips moved silently. A lip reader reading those lips would have blushed.
Presently, Ben Todd relaxed and stared down from his window. Below, the earth revolved, slowly. Above, the thin, pink tinted clouds raced.
Sarah Watson stirred. She glanced at the small, plump watch pinned on her bosom. She rose.
Sarah gulped dangerously as she stood up. She gulped again and lurched into the aisle. She made some loud, unintelligible noises. She began to sway up the aisle.
The alert stewardess started down the aisle to meet her. Sarah stumbled, knocked the stewardess sidewise, went on with a rush. Sarah was screeching now, loud, thin screeches from which words were beginning to emerge.
“Stop the plane! I’m scared! I’m scared stiff! Something’s going to happen—”
Ben Todd was in the aisle, racing after the stewardess. The stewardess was racing after Sarah. Sarah was now at the glass partition which separated the pilots from the passengers. Sarah was banging on the glass with clenched fists. She was yelling her terror.
The stewardess reached Sarah, clawed at the yellow rubber which covered Sarah’s broad back. Sarah went on yelling, went on pounding.
Ben Todd reached the stewardess. He put firm hands on the stewardess. He said: “The old lady’s scared into a fit. You can’t handle her. Let me.”
Sarah Watson wheeled suddenly. She staggered. One of her thick arms went out in a wild, wide sweep. The fist at the end of the arm struck Ben Todd on the point of the chin. Ben Todd staggered. His long arms sawed the air. One of the arms struck the stewardess.
With a last weird yell, Sarah Watson collapsed. She collapsed over the dark gentleman sitting directly behind the glass partition. The dark gentleman and Sarah became a conglomerate, moving mass of waving arms and legs, a mass slipping and sliding over the leather seat, a mass vocal with grunts and gasps.
The stewardess recovered. She leaped into the fray. She clawed indiscriminately at portions of Sarah’s anatomy and portions of the dark gentleman.
Ben Todd gripped the edge of the dark gentleman’s seat. Ben Todd swung out a long arm and curved it about the slender waist of the stewardess. Ben Todd lifted the stewardess up and out into the aisle. He said:
“I told you I could handle her. Lay off!”
Suddenly, Sarah Watson was on her feet. She was sagging against Ben Todd. She was pulling down her veil as she sagged. She was moving rapidly toward the rear of the plane, moaning as she moved, and taking Ben Todd with her.
The dark-haired gentleman was straightening himself. He was gulping in deep breaths. He was putting his hand to his left side. He was rising from his seat.
Sarah reached the door of the little cubicle marked “Stewardess.” She opened the door. She said, loudly:
“No! Leave me alone! I want to be alone! Oh, I’m so ashamed!” and she slammed the door of the little cubicle shut in Ben Todd’s face.
The stewardess was at Ben Todd’s shoulder. The stewardess was reaching past Ben Todd, trying to open the door of the little cubicle.
Ben Todd closed his fingers about the wrist of the stewardess. He said: “Leave the poor old thing alone. She just got scared, and now she’s ashamed.”
A new voice rose over the tumult, the voice of the dark haired gentleman:
“I’ve been robbed!” he screamed. “Robbed!” The dark haired gentleman was in the aisle now, facing the rear, his arms raised, his wart revealed to all who cared to look. “Robbed!” he screamed again.
The door of the little cubicle burst open. Sarah Watson came out of the cubicle with a rush, covering her veiled face with her hands.
“A man in there!” she howled. “A man! He hit me. Oh, my! He hit me and he jumped out of the window in there. He jumped and he’s going down with one of those parasol things!”
The passengers were all on their feet now, swaying and jerking, momentarily in danger of entangling with each other in the center of the aisle. As Sarah’s screech reached them each followed with his eyes the direction of Sarah’s stubby, pointing finger, and each scrambled into a seat, peered out a window.
“Look! A man — she’s right — his parachute’s stuck — no, it’s unfolding — he hit her — he must have been hid in there all the time!”
The dark haired man got back into the aisle again. He raised an arm and pointed it at Sarah. He yelled:
“I’ve been robbed! That woman robbed me!”
“What?” Sarah’s answering yell was hoarse. “You’ve been robbed? You’re accusing me — me? Look down there, man. Look! There goes your thief!”
“I’ve been robbed!” yelled the dark haired man. “She took them. She took the diamonds — my diamonds! She... that woman...”
“Diamonds?” said Sarah hoarsely. “My dear man! Just look out of the windows, as everybody else is looking!”
The passengers ceased staring with popping eyes at Sarah and the man with the wart. The passengers pressed their faces again against the windows:
“Look! He said diamonds — wait — the wind is carrying the parachute this way. What’s that shining down there in the man’s hand? Diamonds — he said diamonds — there’s something shining in that man’s hand. He’s got away with the diamonds — he must have been hiding in there all the time. It’s a blessing we’re not all dead!”