The New Mammoth Book of Pulp Fiction
- Автор: Якубовски Максим, Беллем Роберт
- Год: 2014
- Язык: английский
- Год: Constable & Robinson
- ISBN: 9781472111807
- Жанр: Крутые детективы
Электронная книга - «The New Mammoth Book of Pulp Fiction». Краткое содержание книги:
“You could do it a couple ways,” Slabbe encouraged. “Jake did, hey? Got a line on the boy?”
“Yeah. Traced him back to a silk mill in Scranton, Pennsylvania, which explains how he knew something about the business in the first place.”
Slabbe rubbed some wrinkles out of his lightweight gray trousers along the thigh. “Now we start to tie in a little,” he said. “Max Lorenz was picked up in Pennsylvania for this last rap in a black-market nylon setup. Nylons mean silk. Teel worked with silk. Carry on.”
The big chauffeur took his time over a swallow of beer almost as copious as Slabbe could manage. “Well, Teel was in on that black-market deal, whatever it was,” he said. “His name was Walter Evans then and he was a foreman in the shipping department in this Scranton mill, and Max Lorenz got to him – this is all what Jake George reported to Nola, understand? When the setup blew up on them, Teel lammed and joined the army under the name he’s using now. Lorenz took a rap, but didn’t split on Teel, so I honest-to-God don’t think the Scranton cops or the Feds could make a case against Teel without Max’s testimony if it comes down to it – which is why I don’t mind telling it to you upstanding officials.”
“You couldn’t stop being cute for a second, could you?” Carlin said. “No, I guess not. What next?”
The dark skin on Hurst’s wide cheekbones and jaw tightened till it almost glistened, but his voice was quiet enough. “John Nola decided Teel was nobody to marry Ione. But he knew how nuts Ione was about Teel and that she wouldn’t listen to reason. So he told Jake George to get to Max Lorenz in the pen and grease Max to give out with whatever was needed to hang a rap on Teel. Nola figured if he put Teel in the can, Ione wouldn’t be able to marry him at least till his term was up and by that time maybe she’d be over him – or maybe he figured that so long as he had enough on Teel to send him over he could scare Teel into bailing out. Got that?”
“Got more beer?” Slabbe said.
Hurst got up. His stride, going and coming from the refrigerator, was sinuous as a huge dark cat’s. He dealt out more bottles.
He said: “But Lorenz wouldn’t deal through a go-between. He had to see Nola personally and get as big a price as the tariff would bear. That’s why he came here when he was sprung. He came here and talked to Nola Monday afternoon just before I drove Nola to the airport. I don’t think they came together on a price, though, because Nola was sore.”
“Did you see the plane crack up?” Slabbe asked.
Hurst shook his head. “No. I carried Nola’s bag to it and put him on, then went back to the car. The plane and me took off at the same time. As soon as I got back here, though, it came over the local radio that the plane had burned. Miss Yates sent me back to the airport to make sure there was no hope, then I got Prentice at Fudge Burke’s and we got an undertaker.”
Carlin scowled. “If Nola didn’t hit a bargain with Lorenz, how come he told Jake George’s secretary that he’d put a check for Jake in the mail? That sounded like he was satisfied.”
Hurst gave Carlin a long, sideways glance. “I wouldn’t expect a cop to get it right off. Take time.”
Slabbe mused. “Whether they hit it off or not, Lorenz would tell Nola to call off Jake, huh?”
“Sure Lorenz had Nola weejied into a corner,” Hurst said. “Who could finger Teel for Nola? Only Lorenz. Suppose Lorenz said now you play ball with me or I’ll keep quiet till after your daughter marries this bum, and then I’ll sing – and how would an upstanding pillar of the community like that?”
The chauffeur nodded knowingly. “See, Lorenz had Nola on the short end and could afford to drag it out, only being a riffler he’d naturally want to get rid of anybody in the deal who smelled like copper, meaning Jake George. Lorenz probably said: ‘Pay this peeper off and make sure he’s satisfied and then we’ll talk business.’ ”
“Bushwah!” Carlin exploded.
Hurst wasn’t bothered. “You always say that, just on general principles. Your patsy there is thinking it fits.” He nodded at Slabbe.
Slabbe said: “I’m not just checking the framework. Anything’s possible. So Nola calls Jake George off the case. Then what?”
“Then Nola shoves off in that plane wreck,” Hurst said, “and it’s all Lorenz’s baby. It’s the life of Reilly for him from there in.”
“Yeah?” Carlin said.
“Why not?” Hurst countered. “Lorenz has it on Teel. Teel’s going to marry Ione. She inherits at least half of Nola’s estate. Lorenz can blackmail Teel till 1996.”
The phone rang. Hurst answered it, said, “Yes, Miss Yates,” hung up and buttoned his tunic again, adjusted his cap. “They want the car. Miss Reed is leaving,” he explained. “Anyhow, I’ve spilled it and that’s all the hospitality I have on hand.” He nodded at the empty beer bottles.
“What’s your angle?” Carlin said. “And what about Jake George?”
“Lorenz must have knocked George off,” Hurst shrugged. “Jake was the only other guy in the world that knew about it – except me, and Lorenz didn’t know I knew – and Lorenz didn’t want Jake mixing in and maybe trying to squeeze out a few dibs himself. My angle is only to save Miss Yates grief, like I said in the first place, by saving Ione grief, which means letting Bill Teel alone. Why not, you guys? You can’t make a case against him without Lorenz splits on him and maybe not even then. And Lorenz won’t be around here for a good stretch. He’ll wait till Ione and Teel are married and then try to bleed them – only maybe this time I’ll have something to talk over with him.” Hurst’s eyes glistened a little. “How about it? If you find Jake George’s body, you’ll see it fits.”
“Maybe we already found it,” Carlin said sourly.
“You don’t say. Where?”
“Guess.”
Slabbe said absently: “In Bleeker’s Canyon, burned to a crisp in Lorenz’s Chevvy.”
Hurst’s face showed nothing. Not Carlin’s. His started to redden, and the nostrils of his bony nose flared. He opened his mouth, but after Slabbe’s quick wink he closed it again.
“So what about it?” Hurst pressed. “Lay off Teel. He’s straight now, or I don’t know guys. He went through a war, and there are people who learn their lesson.”
Carlin had to take it out on somebody. He said nastily: “Like you, I suppose. You’re the little fixer-upper because the old girl caught you snitching pears once and let you go. In a pig’s eye! What did she catch you at, punk?”
If it had been two strides from Hurst’s position to Carlin’s chair, the slope-shouldered detective would have had clawed hands on his neck. He pawed for his sap.
It was three strides, though, and the huge chauffeur made a tremendous effort and caught himself. He was breathing hard. His yellow-flecked eyes were small and shiny. Deep in his chest, he said at the sap: “You think that thing could stop me?”
Slabbe made the floor vibrate, going toward the door.
Carlin yelped: “Hey!”
“Hey, hell!” Slabbe grunted. “While you jokers were waltzing there, I heard shots from the house.”
There were two wet marks on Ruby Reed’s lime-green suit. She was on her back in front of the main door to the Nola home. Her green eyes were open and the bruise on the left one was no particular color at all now, just darker than the rest of her white skin.