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.
“What about William Bowes?”
McCarthy was watching Halstead’s hands and he thought one of them tightened almost imperceptibly. And when he looked up he noted Halstead’s eyes had lost their warm frankness and now looked wary. Halstead said, as though surprised:
“Now I never thought of him. Bowes does answer that description to an extent. By George, it might be Bowes at that.”
McCarthy said, “I thought it might be.”
“Is the man in trouble? He’s my witness in a rather important case that’s coming to trial shortly. As a matter of fact, the Giovanni case. By George, that’s why you spoke of Giovanni! You associated the two in some way! Where is the man now?”
“In the hospital. He was stabbed.”
Halstead shook his head and said, “Poor fellow. If he dies, it will be too bad for my client, I am afraid. I was depending on his testimony to show negligence on the part of the driver who killed his son.”
“You mean Wilson.”
Halstead nodded and smiled. The warm look was back in his eyes. He leaned forward and said, “That was an unfortunate thing. Mr. Wilson was driving along and struck young Giovanni, killing him instantly. Two days after that this man you speak of, William Bowes, got in touch with the elder Mr. Giovanni and told him he’d witnessed the accident. I may add that Mr. Wilson got in a panic immediately after the accident and drove around some time before reporting the matter to the police. You understand that makes him technically liable to a hit and run charge. Bowes insisted Mr. Wilson was entirely at fault.”
“How? How was he wrong on it?”
Halstead said, in as friendly a voice, “Mr. McCarthy, I am a lawyer. I can’t ethically answer your question. I don’t understand your interest in the matter unless you should be investigating the matter for Mr. Wilson. Mr. Wilson is opposed to my client and I can’t very well tell you our case against him. I hope you will understand.”
McCarthy got to his feet. “I’m not investigating it for anybody but myself. At least not as yet. But this man Bowes was stabbed in front of my office door, and there was a reason back of it. I’m naturally interested in it. Well, thank you, Mr. Halstead.”
Halstead stood also. “Is the man in bad shape, Mr. McCarthy? Will he recover?”
“The medicos don’t know yet. He’s at the Sisters of Mercy Hospital; you can keep in touch with them.”
“I’ll certainly do that,” Halstead said, following McCarthy to the door. “And thank you, Mr. McCarthy, for telling me this. As I said, Bowes is the backbone of our case. If he should die, I’m afraid we haven’t one.”
McCarthy shook hands and left the office. He stood on the sidewalk for a moment, then headed for another phone booth. He got the Central Station and Detective Lieutenant Shannon, and told that big Irishman:
“I think the guy that got stabbed in front of my place is named Bowes. William Bowes. You might do a little checking on it. He’s a witness in a damage case against Mr. James R. S. Wilson, if that means a thing to you.”
Shannon whistled and said, “He’s flying high, Pat. I’ll look into it. How’d you get it?”
“From Halstead, the lawyer who’s suing Wilson. The lawyer this Bowes is a witness for. And Shan, here’s something funny. I didn’t crack about where the guy was or what had happened to him or a thing that would tip Halstead off. But I talked as though something had happened to him and Halstead let it go. He seemed to think the guy was dead. Then he caught himself on it and changed it to asking questions. Does that mean anything?”
“What should it mean?” Shannon asked cautiously.
“Well, it should mean you should keep a police guard on this Bowes, if it’s him, until he’s out where he’s got a chance to fight for himself. This Halstead is supposed to be a smart baby, that’s why I talked to him the way I did.”
“He’s smart, all right.”
“He’s too damn smart,” said McCarthy. “I don’t trust these baby-faced boys that don’t look as though they’d ever spoken out of turn in their life. They’re the kind I watch because they’re too good to be true. I’ll be seeing you, Shan.”
“Why are you angling around on it, Irish?”
McCarthy said bitterly, “Well, I think the guy was coming to me for help when he got the shiv in him. I don’t like to lose clients that way, even if I haven’t really got ’em at the time. And then I’m a Socialist or something — the poor guy didn’t have any money and everybody else that seems interested in him has. Wilson and this lawyer Halstead, both. I want to see the guy get a break.”
“What do you get out of it?”
“Well, exercise, at least,” McCarthy said. “And maybe practice.”
Benny Cohn was waiting for McCarthy by the time he got back to his office. And Benny’s nose was swollen out of shape and his left eye was a lovely green and adhesive tape held down a plaster on his left cheekbone. McCarthy stared at him and said:
“What the hell happened?”
“Didja ever see one of these iron things like they press pants with, Chief?” Benny asked, in a plaintive voice. “Well, I take the thirty-five smackers I get at the hospital and I go down to pay off this gal I was telling you about and, Chief, guess what happens.”
McCarthy said, “I don’t have to guess. I know. She clouted you with the iron.”
“Wrong, Chief, wrong. I dodge the iron, except for it bouncing off the wall and falling against my neck, sort of. But when I duck the iron, Chief, she unbuckles herself and comes at me with the ironing board thing and she lands with it. I run like hell, Chief, and no mistake.”
“Did you give her the thirty-five?”
“I never had a chance. She started in throwing that iron thing when I put my head in the door and say to her ‘Hi, sweetheart.’ Right then she starts. I mail that thirty-five to her, Chief, I mail it. And I get another thirty-five from you tomorrow or the next day, the Doc says.”
“From me!”
“The Doc says you’re paying the shot, Chief, and that I should come to you for the dough. So I’ll be here.”
McCarthy estimated how long five hundred dollars would last if the man in the hospital had a daily transfusion at thirty-five dollars a copy. He groaned. Benny said helpfully:
“He must be a pal of yours for you to pay off like that. The Doc says he may be in there for the next six months, on account of his guts being all cut to hell. I bet it costs you a pretty penny, Chief, a pretty penny.”
“Will you get out?” McCarthy said.
Benny went out. He poked his head around the door a moment later, however, and said, “Hey! I get thinking about getting smacked in the puss with that iron board arrangement and I forget. You’re to call Miss Marge. See, Chief! Your phone it rings and it’s her and she says to call her up.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Just now, Chief.”
Benny left for the second time, and McCarthy called Marge’s number. She said in a rush, as soon as she heard his voice:
“Oh, Pat! I’ve been trying to get you. It’s Chet Morris. He tried to get you and when he couldn’t he called me. He went up to see that Wilson man and told him you were checking on that accident thing or something.”
“I didn’t tell him that.”
“He said that after he talked to you he got thinking and remembered that lawyer was suing Wilson. And that he thought there might be a story in it and went up to see about it. He said Wilson was very nice, but that he got telephoned at the paper, almost as soon as he got back from seeing Wilson, and that somebody told him to lay off and keep out of what didn’t concern him. He thinks that means you, too. He said he didn’t want to see you get in trouble.”