raymondchandler.thehighwindow-第16章

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mily　and　the　family　doctor　doing　during　the　four　hours　they　didn't　call　the　cops？　Fixing　it　so　there　would　only　be　a　superficial　investigation。　And　why　were　no　tests　of　the　hands　made　for　nitrates？　Because　you　didn't　want　the　truth。　Cassidy　was　too　big。　But　this　was　a　murder　case　too；　wasn't　it？〃
　 〃The　guys　were　both　dead；〃　Breeze　said。　〃What　the　hell　difference　did　it　make　who　shot　who？〃
　 〃Did　you　ever　stop　to　think；〃　I　asked；　〃that　Cassidy's　secretary　might　have　had　a　mother　or　a　sister　or　a　sweetheartor　all　three？　That　they　had　their　pride　and　their　faith　and　their　love　for　a　kid　who　was　made　out　to　be　a　drunken　paranoiac　because　his　boss's　father　had　a　hundred　million　dollars？〃
　 Breeze　lifted　his　glass　slowly　and　finished　his　drink　slowly　and　put　it　down　slowly　and　turned　the　glass　slowly　on　the　glass　top　of　the　cocktail　table。　Spangler　sat　rigid；　all　shining　eyes　and　lips　parted　in　a　sort　of　rigid　half　smile。
　 Breeze　said：　〃Make　your　point。〃
　 I　said：　〃Until　you　guys　own　your　own　souls　you　don't　own　mine。　Until　you　guys　can　be　trusted　every　time　and　always；　in　all　times　and　conditions；　to　seek　the　truth　out　and　find　it　and　let　the　chips　fall　where　they　mayuntil　that　time　es；　I　have　a　right　to　listen　to　my　conscience；　and　protect　my　client　the　best　way　I　can。　Until　I'm　sure　you　won't　do　him　more　harm　than　you'll　do　the　truth　good。　Or　until　I'm　hauled　before　somebody　that　can　make　me　talk。〃
　 Breeze　said：　〃You　sound　to　me　just　a　little　like　a　guy　who　is　trying　to　hold　his　conscience　down。〃
　 〃Hell；〃　I　said。　〃Let's　have　another　drink。　And　then　you　can　tell　me　about　that　girl　you　had　me　talk　to　on　the　phone。〃
　 He　grinned：　〃That　was　a　dame　that　lives　next　door　to　Phillips。　She　heard　a　guy　talking　to　him　at　the　door　one　evening。　She　works　days　as　an　usherette。　So　we　thought　maybe　she　ought　to　hear　your　voice。　Think　nothing　of　it。〃
　 〃What　kind　of　voice　was　it？〃
　 〃Kind　of　a　mean　voice。　She　said　she　didn't　like　it。〃
　 〃I　guess　that's　what　made　you　think　of　me；〃　I　said。　I　picked　up　the　three　glasses　and　went　out　to　the　kitchen　with　them。
　
　
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　 When　I　got　out　there　I　had　forgotten　which　glass　was　which；　so　I　rinsed　them　all　out　and　dried　them　and　was　starting　to　make　more　drinks　when　Spangler　strolled　out　and　stood　just　behind　my　shoulder。
　 〃It's　all　right；〃　I　said。　〃I'm　not　using　any　cyanide　this　evening。〃
　 〃Don't　get　too　foxy　with　the　old　guy；〃　he　said　quietly　to　the　back　of　my　neck。　〃He　knows　more　angles　than　you　think。〃
　 〃Nice　of　you；〃　I　said。
　 〃Say；　I'd　like　to　read　up　on　that　Cassidy　case；〃　he　said。　〃Sounds　interesting。　Must　have　been　before　my　time。〃
　 〃It　was　a　long　time　ago；〃　I　said。　〃And　it　never　happened。　I　was　just　kidding。〃　I　put　the　glasses　on　the　tray　and　carried　them　back　into　the　living　room　and　set　them　around。　I　took　mine　over　to　my　chair　behind　the　chess　table。
　 〃Another　phony；〃　I　said。　〃Your　sidekick　sneaks　out　to　the　kitchen　and　gives　me　advice　behind　your　back　about　how　careful　I　ought　to　keep　on　account　of　the　angles　you　know　that　I　don't　think　you　know。　He　has　just　the　right　face　for　it。　Friendly　and　open　and　an　easy　blusher。〃
　 Spangler　sat　down　on　the　edge　of　his　chair　and　blushed。　Breeze　looked　at　him　casually；　without　meaning。
　 〃What　did　you　find　out　about　Phillips？〃　I　asked。
　 〃Yes；〃　Breeze　said。　〃Phillips。　Well；　George　Anson　Phillips　is　a　kind　of　pathetic　case。　He　thought　he　was　a　detective；　but　it　looks　as　if　he　couldn't　get　anybody　to　agree　with　him。　I　talked　to　the　sheriff　at　Ventura。　He　said　George　was　a　nice　kind；　maybe　a　little　too　nice　to　make　a　good　cop；　even　if　he　had　any　brains。　George　did　what　they　said　and　he　would　do　it　pretty　well；　provided　they　told　him　which　foot　to　start　on　and　how　many　steps　to　take　which　way　and　little　things　like　that。　But　he　didn't　develop　much；　if　you　get　what　I　mean。　He　was　the　sort　of　cop　who　would　be　likely　to　hang　a　pinch　on　a　chicken　thief；　if　he　saw　the　guy　steal　the　chicken　and　the　guy　fell　down　running　away　and　hit　his　head　on　a　post　or　something　and　knocked　himself　out。　Otherwise　it　might　get　a　little　tough　and　George　would　have　to　go　back　to　the　office　for　instructions。　Well；　it　wore　the　sheriff　down　after　a　while　and　he　let　George　go。〃
　 Breeze　drank　some　more　of　his　drink　and　scratched　his　chin　with　a　thumbnail　like　the　blade　of　a　shovel。
　 〃After　that　George　worked　in　a　general　store　at　Simi　for　a　man　named　Sutcliff。　It　was　a　credit　business　with　little　books　for　each　customer　and　George　would　have　trouble　with　the　books。　He　would　forget　to　write　the　stuff　down　or　write　it　in　the　wrong　book　and　some　of　the　customers　would　straighten　him　out　and　some　would　let　George　forget。　So　Sutcliff　thought　maybe　George　would　do　better　at　something　else；　and　George　came　to　L。A。　He　had　e　into　a　little　money；　not　much；　but　enough　for　him　to　get　a　license　and　put　up　a　bond　and　get　himself　a　piece　of　an　office。　I　was　over　there。　What　he　had　was　desk　room　with　another　guy　who　claims　he　is　selling　Christmas　cards。　Name　of　Marsh。　If　George　had　a　customer；　the　arrangement　was　Marsh　would　go　for　a　walk。　Marsh　says　he　didn't　know　where　George　lived　and　George　didn't　have　any　customers。　That　is；　no　business　came　into　the　office　that　Marsh　knows　about。　But　George　put　an　ad　in　the　paper　and　he　might　have　got　a　customer　out　of　that。　I　guess　he　did；　because　about　a　week　ago　Marsh　found　a　note　on　his　desk　that　George　would　be　out　of　town　for　a　few　days。　That's　the　last　he　heard　of　him。　So　George　went　over　to　Court　Street　and　took　an　apartment　under　the　name　of　Anson　and　got　bumped　off。　And　that's　all　we　know　about　George　so　far。　Kind　of　a　pathetic　case。〃
　 He　looked　at　me　with　a　level　uncurious　gaze　and　raised　his　glass　to　his　lips。
　 〃What　about　this　ad？〃
　 Breeze　put　the　glass　down　and　dug　a　thin　piece　of　paper　out　of　his　wallet　and　put　it　down　on　the　cocktail　table。　I　went　over　and　picked　it　up　and　read　it。　It　said：
　 Why　worry？　Why　be　doubtful　or　confused？　Why　be　gnawed　by　suspicion？　Consult　cool；　careful；　confidential；　discreet　investigator。　George　Anson　Phillips。　Glenview　9521。
　 I　put　it　down　on　the　glass　again。
　 〃It　ain't　any　worse　than　lots　of　business　personals；〃　Breeze　said。　〃It　don't　seem　to　be　aimed　at　the　carriage　trade。〃
　 Spangler　said：　〃The　girl　in　the　office　wrote　it　for　him。　She　said　she　could　hardly　keep　from　laughing；　but　George　thought　it　was　swell。　The　Hollywood　Boulevard　office　of　the　Chronicle。〃
　 〃You　checked　that　fast；〃　I　said。
　 〃We　don't　have　any　trouble　getting　information；〃　Breeze　said。　〃Except　maybe　from　you。〃
　 〃What　about　Hench？〃
　 〃Nothing　about　Hench。　Him　and　the　girl　were　having　a　liquor　party。　They　would　drink　a　little　and　sing　a　little　and　scrap　a　little　and　listen　to　the　radio　and　go　out　to　eat　once　in　a　while；　when　they　thought　of　it。　I　guess　it　had　been　going　on　for　days。　Just　as　well　we　stopped　it。　The　girl　has　two　bad　eyes。　The　next　round　Hench　might　have　broken　her　neck。　The　world　is　full　of　bums　like　Henchand　his　girl。〃
　 〃What　about　the　gun　Hench　said　wasn't　his？〃
　 〃It's　the　right　gun。　We　don't　have　the　slug　yet；　but　we　have　the　shell。　It　was　under　George's　body　and　it　checks。　We　had　a　couple　more　fired　and　parisoned　the　ejector　marks　and　the　firing　pin　dents。〃
　 〃You　believe　somebody　planted　it　under　Hench's　pillow？〃
　 〃Sure。　Why　would　Hench　shoot　Phillips？　He　didn't　know　him。〃
　 〃How　do　you　know　that？〃
　 〃I　know　it；〃　Breeze　said；　spreading　his　hands。　〃Look；　there　are　things　you　know　because　you　have　them　down　in　black　and　white。　And　there　are　things　you　know　because　they　are　reasonable　and　have　to　be　so。　You　don't　shoot　somebody　and　then　make　a　lot　of　racket　calling　attention　to　yourself；　and　all　the　time　you　have　the　gun　under　your　pillow。　The　girl　was　with　Hench　all　day。　If　Hench　shot　anybody；　she　would　have　some　idea。　She　doesn't　have　any　such　idea。　She　would　spill；　if　she　had。　What　is　Hench　to　her？　A　guy　to　play　around　with；　no　more。　Look；　forget　Hench。　The　guy　who　did　the　shooting　hears　the　loud　radio　and　knows　it　will　cover　a　shot。　But　all　the　same　he　saps　Phillips　and　drags　him　into　the　bathroom　and　shuts　the　door　before　he　shoots　him。　He's　not　drunk。　He's　minding　his　own　business；　and　careful。　He　goes　out；　shuts　the　bathroom　door；　the　radio　stops；　Hench　and　the　girl　go　out　to　eat。　Just　happens　that　way。〃
　 〃How　do　you　know　the　radio　stopped？〃
　 〃I　was　told；〃　Breeze　said　calmly。　〃Other　people　live　in　that　dump。　Take　it　the　radio　stopped　and　they　went　out。　Not　quiet。　The　killer　steps　out　of　the　apartment　and　Hench's　door　is　open。　That　must　be　because　otherwise　he　wouldn't　think　anything　about　Hench's　door。〃
　 〃People　don't　leave　their　doors　open　in　apartment　houses。　Especially　in　districts　like　that。〃
　 〃Drunks　do。　Drunks　are　careless。　Their　minds　don't　focus　well。　And　they　only　think　of　one　thing　at　a　time。　The　door　was　openjust　a　little　maybe；　but　open。　The　killer　went　in　and　ditched　his　gun　on　the　bed　and　found　another　gun　there。　He　took　that　away；　just　to　make　it　look　worse　for　Hench。〃
　 〃You　can　check　the　gun；〃　I　said。
　 〃Hench's　gun？　We'll　try　to；　but　Hench　says　he　doesn't　know　the　number。　If　we　find　it；　we　might　do　something　there。　I　doubt　it。　The　gun　we　have　we　will　try　to　check；　but　you　know　how　those　things　are。　You　get　just　so　far　along　and　you　think　it　is　going　to　open　up　for　you；　and　then　the　trail　dies　out　cold。　A　dead　end。　Anything　else　you　can　think　of　that　we　might　know　that　might　be　a　help　to　you　in　your　business？〃
　 〃I'm　getting　tired；〃　I　said。　〃My　imagination　isn't　working　very　well。〃
　 〃You　were　doing　fine　a　while　back；〃　Breeze　said。　〃On　the　Cassidy　case。〃
　 I　didn't　say　anything。　I　filled　my　pipe　up　again　but　it　was　too　hot　to　light。　I　laid　it　on　the　edge　of　the　table　to　cool　off。
　 〃It's　God's　truth；〃　Breeze　said　slowly；　〃that　I　don't　know　what　to　make　of　you。　I　can't　see　you　deliberately　covering　up　on　any　murder。　And　neither　can　I　see　you　knowing　as　little　about　all　this　as　you　pretend　to　know。〃
　 I　didn't　say　anything；　again。
　 Breeze　leaned　over　to　revolve　his　cigar　butt　in　the　tray　until　he　had　killed　the　fire。　He　finished　his　drink；　put　on　his　hat　and　stood　up。
　 〃How　long　you　expect　to　stay　dummied　up？〃　he　asked。
　 〃I　don't　know。〃
　 〃Let　me　help　you　out。　I　give　you　till　tomorrow　noon；　a　little　better　than　twelve　hours。　I　won't　get　my　post　mortem　report　before　that　anyway。　I　give　you　till　then　to　talk　things　over　with　your　party　and　decide　to　e　clean。〃
　 〃And　after　that？〃
　 〃After　that　I　see　the　Captain　of　Detectives　and　tell　him　a　private　eye　named　Philip　Marlowe　is　withholding　information　which　I　need　in　a　murder　investigation；　or　I'm　pretty　sure　he　is。　And　what　about　it？　I　figure　he'll　pull　you　in　fast　enough　to　singe　your　breeches。〃
　 I　said：　〃Uh…huh。　Did　you　go　through　Phillips'　desk？〃
　 〃Sure。　A　very　neat　young　feller。　Nothing　in　it　at　all；　except　a　little　kind　of　diary。　Nothing　in　that　either；　except　about　how　he　went　to　the　beach　or　took　some　girl　to　the　pictures　and　she　didn't　warm　up　much。　Or　how　he　sat　in　the　office　and　no　business　e　in。　One　time　he　got　a　little　sore　about　his　laundry　and　wrote　a　whole　page。　Mostly　it　was　just　three　or　four　lines。　There　was　only　one　thing　about　it。　It　was　all　done　in　a　kind　of　printing。〃
　 I　said：　〃Printing？〃
　 〃Yeah；　printin