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.
She meshed the gears, rolled from the curb, pulling the domino from her round cheeks as soon as she was out of range of his vision. It was one o’clock when she parked the sedan, got out and walked away. Twice she looked behind her, fearful that some prowl car might connect the abandoned Saint car with her. But her fears were groundless; the streets were deserted. A short time later, she had descended from a cab and entered the exclusive apartment house which she called home.
Chapter Five
The Domino Lady Triumphant
It was evening of the following day when Ellen Patrick moved across the heavy Boukhara of her living room and opened the outside door. Paul Cathern entered the room. He carried a folded newspaper, and he was grinning, widely. He took off his gray felt as he closed the door, then followed Ellen to the center of the room.
The powder-blue negligee she affected set off her shapely rounded body to perfection, and Cathern’s eyes were freighted with frank admiration as he followed the intoxicating undulations of her figure as she sank down upon a crimson chaise longue. She smiled, motioned him to sit beside her.
“Suppose you give an account of yourself, big boy?” she said, pertly, brows arched in interrogation. “Haven’t seen you around.”
Paul Cathern had such an engaging grin, and it broadened to show his white teeth as he dropped down beside Ellen. He unfolded a late edition of the Express, handed it to her.
“Perhaps this will explain,” he said.
Ellen feigned complete amazement as she looked at the paper. Little sounds of excitement and pleasure escaped her ripe lips as she read the information emblazoned upon the front page:
CHARTER MEMBERS FLEEING AFTER EXPOSE BY ACE SLEUTH FROM SHERIFFS OFFICE. INDICTMENTS OUT FOR LEADING POLITICAL FIGURES; J. RIGGS SAINT, DISTRICT ATTORNEY, IS MYSTERIOUSLY MISSING!
June 7. Following a startling expose of Black Legion activities in the state, by Paul Cathern, special investigator from Sheriff Bonsill’s office, indictments have been sworn out for some of the leading politicians, including J. Riggs Saint, District Attorney, and Leo U. Gorsh, State Representative.
Saint has handed in his written resignation, but cannot be reached for a statement. One report has it that he is confined in a private hospital, suffering from mysterious injuries that threaten his life. Another that he is taking an extended sea voyage for his health. Mr. Gorsh is reported as flying to Mexico City on business. In any event, both gentlemen will find a warm welcome awaiting them when they are located and turned over to the newly-appointed District Attorney, Mr. John Smithson. This is one of the most startling exposes in the history of the state, and politicians both big and small are leaving for parts unknown by rail, water and air. Mr. Smithson, interviewed at his office today, promises a thorough clean-up, and in taking every step to apprehend the fleeing higher-ups of the Black Legion...
There were columns more of lurid details, but Ellen turned to her visitor without reading them. Her great eyes were gleaming. Her plans had worked out to perfection! This was her most successful and far-reaching master stroke against the state machine which had brought about the death of her father! It all seemed too marvelous to be true and she leaned toward Paul Cathern, lovely bosom tossing with emotion.
“Oh, Paul! It’s wonderful!” she cried softly. “Almost too good to be true! It’s simply great to think that you accomplished so much where all others have failed.” She leaned closer, kissed him lightly upon the cheek. He grinned.
“It’s great, all right, honey!” he told her, enthusiastically, “but I’d never have accomplished anything without help. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the timely interference of a mysterious lady, I wouldn’t be alive now!”
Ellen looked at Cathern, intently. “A mysterious lady?” she repeated softly, “I don’t understand, Paul. It fails to mention her in the news.”
The investigator’s gray eyes focused upon her piquant face, the grin fading. “Last night,” he said, slowly, “I was a prisoner of the Black Legion, facing torture, or worse. A fearless woman, The Domino Lady, seized the D.A., rescued me from under the noses of my guards, and substituted Riggs Saint in my place! That no doubt accounts for his ‘mysterious injuries’ referred to in the Express! The Domino Lady likewise turned over to me incriminating documents she had taken from Saint. Those documents furnished the expose you’ve been reading about, yet she insisted that I take full credit, and leave her name out of it! Don’t you agree that I owe the lady much, Ellen?”
She smiled, “Why, yes, of course, Paul. But I thought The Domino Lady was wanted by the police? How could you permit her to go free?”
Cathern’s eyes softened. “Ellen,” he said, “I recognized The Domino Lady!”
The little adventuress’ body went rigid. With a great effort she fought down the panic that welled within her slender frame. She raised guileless eyes to meet his probing glance.
“So what?” she managed, precisely.
For a moment his eyes held hers, in an effort to read her calm gaze.
“Don’t you see I couldn’t betray her, honey,” he murmured, “after she’d saved my life, and accomplished so much good for the state? Besides,” he went on, grinning again, “the credit she bestowed upon me has assured me a fancy promotion! If the authorities wait on me to reveal the identity of The Domino Lady, they’re going to have a mighty long wait!”
She breathed a deep sigh of relief, leaned against Cathern. She smiled at him, her great eyes filled with admiration for the conquering male.
“You’re tops, Paul!” she breathed. “A grand person! Any woman would be lucky to have you for a friend, I’m so glad of your success and promotion, darling! Shall we drink a toast to them?”
Paul Cathern smiled, understanding^, and manipulated the decanter. He handed a drink to Ellen, then dropped down beside her again, glass in hand. They touched glasses, lifted them high.
“To the future!” she toasted, softly, brown eyes starry.
“Of The Domino Lady!” added Paul Cathern, meaningly.
He rose, replaced the glasses upon their taboret without looking at her. Then he turned. Ellen Patrick laughed throatily as she went to his open arms.
Three Wise Men of Babylon
Richard Sale
Strangely forgotten today, Richard Sale (1911–1993) was one of the most successful pulp writers of the 1930s and ’40s, known as “the Dumas of the pulps,” and then enjoyed even greater success in Hollywood. At the peak of the pulp era, his work was in such demand that he averaged a story a week for Argosy, Detective Fiction Weekly, Dime Detective, and most other top magazines while also writing novels, producing a million words a year for a decade. His first novel, Not Too Narrow, Not Too Deep (1936), about tough prisoners attempting to escape from Devil’s Island, was filmed as Strange Cargo in 1940 with his screenplay. Two of his best, most enduring, and quirkiest novels were set in Hollywood. Lazarus #7 (1942) involves a movie star with murderous intentions and leprosy, and a studio doctor who raises dogs from the dead. Passing Strange (1942) tells the story of a doctor shot dead while performing a Cesarean on a famous movie star.
Sale’s most famous pulp creations were Joe “Daffy” Dill, a tough-talking wiseguy who appeared in Detective Fiction Weekly with regularity, and Dinah Mason, his outrageously gorgeous colleague at the New York Chronicle. She is not one of the boys. She looks like a Petty girl, only better, and is a good reporter but gets sick at the sight of a corpse. In a running sidebar to the mysteries they get involved with, for years Dill ask Dinah to marry him.