raymondchandler.thehighwindow-第15部分

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　 〃I　play　over　tournament　games　that　have　been　recorded　and　published。　There's　a　whole　literature　about　chess。　Once　in　a　while　I　work　out　problems。　They're　not　chess；　properly　speaking。　What　are　we　talking　about　chess　for？　Drink？〃
　 〃Not　right　now；〃　Breeze　said。　〃I　talked　to　Randall　about　you。　He　remembers　you　very　well；　in　connection　with　a　case　down　at　the　beach。〃　He　moved　his　feet　on　the　carpet；　as　if　they　were　very　tired。　His　solid　old　face　was　lined　and　gray　with　fatigue。　〃He　said　you　wouldn't　murder　anybody。　He　says　you　are　a　nice　guy；　on　the　level。〃
　 〃That　was　friendly　of　him；〃　I　said。
　 〃He　says　you　make　good　coffee　and　you　get　up　kind　of　late　in　the　mornings　and　are　apt　to　run　to　a　very　bright　line　of　chatter　and　that　we　should　believe　anything　you　say；　provided　we　can　check　it　by　five　independent　witnesses。〃
　 〃To　hell　with　him；〃　I　said。
　 Breeze　nodded　exactly　as　though　I　had　said　just　what　he　wanted　me　to　say。　He　wasn't　smiling　and　he　wasn't　tough；　just　a　big　solid　man　working　at　his　job。　Spungler　had　his　head　back　on　the　chair　and　his　eyes　half　closed　and　was　watching　the　smoke　from　his　cigarette。
　 〃Randall　says　we　should　look　out　for　you。　He　says　you　are　not　as　smart　as　you　think　you　are；　but　that　you　are　a　guy　things　happen　to；　and　a　guy　like　that　could　be　a　lot　more　trouble　than　a　very　smart　guy。　That's　what　he　says；　you　understand。　You　look　all　right　to　me。　I　like　everything　in　the　clear。　That's　why　I'm　telling　you。〃
　 I　said　it　was　nice　of　him。
　 The　phone　rang。　I　looked　at　Breeze；　but　he　didn't　move；　so　I　reached　for　it　and　answered　it。　It　was　a　girl's　voice。　I　thought　it　was　vaguely　familiar；　but　I　couldn't　place　it。
　 〃Is　this　Mr。　Philip　Marlowe？〃
　 〃Yes。〃
　 〃Mr。　Marlowe。　I'm　in　trouble；　very　great　trouble。　I　want　to　see　you　very　badly。　When　can　I　see　you？〃
　 I　said：　〃You　mean　tonight？　Who　am　I　talking　to？〃
　 〃My　name　is　Gladys　Crane。　I　live　at　the　Hotel　Normandy　on　Rampart。　When　can　you〃
　 〃You　mean　you　want　me　to　e　over　there　tonight？〃　I　asked；　thinking　about　the　voice；　trying　to　place　it。
　 〃I〃　The　phone　clicked　and　the　line　was　dead。　I　sat　there　holding　it；　frowning　at　it；　looking　across　it　at　Breeze。　His　face　was　quietly　empty　of　interest。
　 〃Some　girl　says　she's　in　trouble；〃　I　said。　〃Connection　broken。〃　I　held　the　plunger　down　on　the　base　of　the　phone　waiting　for　it　to　ring　again。　The　two　cops　were　pletely　silent　and　motionless。　Too　silent；　too　motionless。
　 The　bell　rang　again　and　I　let　the　plunger　up　and　said：　〃You　want　to　talk　to　Breeze；　don't　you？〃
　 〃Yeah。〃　It　was　a　man's　voice　and　it　sounded　a　little　surprised。
　 〃Go　on；　be　tricky；〃　I　said；　and　got　up　from　the　chair　and　went　out　to　the　kitchen。　I　heard　Breeze　talking　very　briefly　then　the　sound　of　the　phone　being　returned　to　the　cradle。
　 I　got　a　bottle　of　Four　Roses　out　of　the　kitchen　closet　and　three　glasses。　I　got　ice　and　ginger　ale　from　the　icebox　and　mixed　three　highballs　and　carried　them　in　on　a　tray　and　sat　the　tray　down　on　the　cocktail　table　in　front　of　the　davenport　where　Breeze　was　sitting。　I　took　two　of　the　glasses；　handed　one　to　Spangler；　and　took　the　other　to　my　chair。
　 Spangler　held　the　glass　uncertainly；　pinching　his　lower　lip　between　thumb　and　finger；　looking　at　Breeze　to　see　whether　he　would　accept　the　drink。
　 Breeze　looked　at　me　very　steadily。　Then　he　sighed。　Then　he　picked　the　glass　up　and　tasted　it　and　sighed　again　and　shook　his　head　sideways　with　a　half　smile；　the　way　a　man　does　when　you　give　him　a　drink　and　he　needs　it　very　badly　and　it　is　just　right　and　the　first　swallow　is　like　a　peek　into　a　cleaner；　sunnier；　brighter　world。
　 〃I　guess　you　catch　on　pretty　fast；　Mr。　Marlowe；〃　he　said；　and　leaned　back　on　the　davenport　pletely　relaxed。　〃I　guess　now　we　can　do　some　business　together。〃
　 〃Not　that　way；〃　I　said。
　 〃Huh？〃　He　bent　his　eyebrows　together。　Spangler　leaned　forward　in　his　chair　and　looked　bright　and　attentive。
　 〃Having　stray　broads　call　me　up　and　give　me　a　song　and　dance　so　you　can　say　they　said　they　recognized　my　voice　somewhere　sometime。〃
　 〃The　girl's　name　is　Gladys　Crane；〃　Breeze　said。
　 〃So　she　told　me。　I　never　heard　of　her。〃
　 〃Okay；〃　Breeze　said。　〃Okay。〃　He　showed　me　the　flat　of　his　freckled　hand。　〃We're　not　trying　to　pull　anything　that's　not　legitimate。　We　only　hope　you　ain't；　either。〃
　 〃Ain't　either　what？〃
　 〃Ain't　either　trying　to　pull　anything　not　legitimate。　Such　as　holding　out　on　us。〃
　 〃Just　why　shouldn't　I　hold　out　on　you；　if　I　feel　like　it？〃　I　asked。　〃You're　not　paying　my　salary。〃
　 〃Look；　don't　get　tough；　Marlowe。〃
　 〃I'm　not　tough。　I　don't　have　any　idea　of　being　tough。　I　know　enough　about　cops　not　to　get　tough　with　them。　Go　ahead　and　speak　your　piece　and　don't　try　to　pull　any　more　phonies　like　that　telephone　call。〃
　 〃We're　on　a　murder　case；〃　Breeze　said。　〃We　have　to　try　to　run　it　the　best　we　can。　You　found　the　body。　You　had　talked　to　the　guy。　He　had　asked　you　to　e　to　his　apartment。　He　gave　you　his　key。　You　said　you　didn't　know　what　he　wanted　to　see　you　about。　We　figured　that　maybe　with　time　to　think　back　you　could　have　remembered。〃
　 〃In　other　words　I　was　lying　the　first　time；〃　I　said。
　 Breeze　smiled　a　tired　smile。　〃You　been　around　enough　to　know　that　people　always　lie　in　murder　cases。〃
　 〃The　trouble　with　that　is　how　are　you　going　to　know　when　I　stop　lying？〃
　 〃When　what　you　say　begins　to　make　sense；　we'll　be　satisfied。〃
　 I　looked　at　Spangler。　He　was　leaning　forward　so　far　he　was　almost　out　of　his　chair。　He　looked　as　if　he　was　going　to　jump。　I　couldn't　think　of　any　reason　why　he　should　jump；　so　I　thought　he　must　be　excited。　I　looked　back　at　Breeze。　He　was　about　as　excited　as　a　hole　in　the　wall。　He　had　one　of　his　cellophane…wrapped　cigars　between　his　thick　fingers　and　he　was　slitting　the　cellophane　with　a　penknife。　I　watched　him　get　the　wrapping　off　and　trim　the　cigar　end　with　the　blade　and　put　the　knife　away；　first　wiping　the　blade　carefully　on　his　pants。　I　watched　him　strike　a　wooden　match　and　light　the　cigar　carefully；　turning　it　around　in　the　flame；　then　hold　the　match　away　from　the　cigar；　still　burning；　and　draw　on　the　cigar　until　he　decided　it　was　properly　lighted。　Then　he　shook　the　match　out　and　laid　it　down　beside　the　crumpled　cellophane　on　the　glass　top　of　the　cocktail　table。　Then　he　leaned　back　and　pulled　up　one　leg　of　his　pants　and　smoked　peacefully。　Every　motion　had　been　exactly　as　it　had　been　when　he　lit　a　cigar　in　Hench's　apartment；　and　exactly　as　it　always　would　be　whenever　he　lit　a　cigar。　He　was　that　kind　of　man；　and　that　made　him　dangerous。　Not　as　dangerous　as　a　brilliant　man；　but　much　more　dangerous　than　a　quick　excitable　one　like　Spangler。
　 〃I　never　saw　Phillips　before　today；〃　I　said。　〃I　don't　count　that　he　said　he　saw　me　up　in　Ventura　once；　because　I　don't　remember　him。　I　met　him　just　the　way　I　told　you。　He　tailed　me　around　and　I　braced　him。　He　wanted　to　talk　to　me；　he　gave　me　his　key；　I　went　to　his　apartment；　used　the　key　to　let　myself　in　when　he　didn't　answeras　he　had　told　me　to　do。　He　was　dead。　The　police　were　called　and　through　a　set　of　events　or　incidents　that　had　nothing　to　do　with　me；　a　gun　was　found　under　Hench's　pillow。　A　gun　that　had　been　fired。　I　told　you　this　and　it's　true。〃
　 Breeze　said：　〃When　you　found　him　you　went　down　to　the　apartment　manager；　guy　named　Passmore；　and　got　him　to　go　up　with　you　without　telling　him　anybody　was　dead。　You　gave　Passmore　a　phony　card　and　talked　about　jewelry。〃
　 I　nodded。　〃With　people　like　Passmore　and　apartment　houses　like　that　one；　it　pays　to　be　a　little　on　the　cagey　side。　I　was　interested　in　Phillips。　I　thought　Passmore　might　tell　me　something　about　him；　if　he　didn't　know　he　was　dead；　that　he　wouldn't　be　likely　to　tell　me；　if　he　knew　the　cops　were　going　to　bounce　in　on　him　in　a　brief　space　of　time。　That's　all　there　was　to　that。〃
　 Breeze　drank　a　little　of　his　drink　and　smoked　a　little　of　his　cigar　and　said：　〃What　i'd　like　to　get　in　the　clear　is　this。　Everything　you　just　told　us　might　be　strictly　the　truth；　and　yet　you　might　not　be　telling　us　the　truth。　If　you　get　what　I　mean。〃
　 〃Like　what？〃　I　asked；　getting　perfectly　well　what　he　meant。
　 He　tapped　on　his　knee　and　watched　me　with　a　quiet　up　from　under　look。　Not　hostile；　not　even　suspicious。　Just　a　quiet　man　doing　his　job。
　 〃Like　this。　You're　on　a　job。　We　don't　know　what　it　is。　Phillips　was　playing　at　being　a　private　dick。　He　was　on　a　job。　He　tailed　you　around。　How　can　we　know；　unless　you　tell　us；　that　his　job　and　your　job　don't　tie　in　somewhere？　And　if　they　do；　that's　our　business。　Right？〃
　 〃That's　one　way　to　look　at　it；〃　I　said。　〃But　it's　not　the　only　way；　and　it's　not　my　way。〃
　 〃Don't　forget　this　is　a　murder　case；　Marlowe。〃
　 〃I'm　not。　But　don't　you　forget　I've　been　around　this　town　a　long　time；　more　than　fifteen　years。　I've　seen　a　lot　of　murder　cases　e　and　go。　Some　have　been　solved；　some　couldn't　be　solved；　and　some　could　have　been　solved　that　were　not　solved。　And　one　or　two　or　three　of　them　have　been　solved　wrong。　Somebody　was　paid　to　take　a　rap；　and　the　chances　are　it　was　known　or　strongly　suspected。　And　winked　at。　But　skip　that。　It　happens；　but　not　often。　Consider　a　case　like　the　Cassidy　case。　I　guess　you　remember　it；　don't　you？〃
　 Breeze　looked　at　his　watch。　〃I'm　tired；〃　he　said。　〃Let's　forget　the　Cassidy　case。　Let's　stick　to　the　Phillips　case。〃
　 I　shook　my　head。　〃I'm　going　to　make　a　point；　and　it's　an　important　point。　Just　look　at　the　Cassidy　case。　Cassidy　was　a　very　rich　man；　a　multimillionaire。　He　had　a　grown　up　son。　One　night　the　cops　were　called　to　his　home　and　young　Cassidy　was　on　his　back　on　the　floor　with　blood　all　over　his　face　and　a　bullet　hole　in　the　side　of　his　head。　His　secretary　was　lying　on　his　back　in　an　adjoining　bathroom；　with　his　head　against　the　second　bathroom　door；　leading　to　a　hail；　and　a　cigarette　burned　out　between　the　fingers　of　his　left　hand；　just　a　short　burned　out　stub　that　had　scorched　the　skin　between　his　fingers。　A　gun　was　lying　by　his　right　hand。　He　was　shot　in　the　head；　not　a　contact　wound。　A　lot　of　drinking　had　been　done。　Four　hours　had　elapsed　since　the　deaths　and　the　family　doctor　had　been　there　for　three　of　them。　Now；　what　did　you　do　with　the　Cassidy　case？〃
　 Breeze　sighed。　〃Murder　and　suicide　during　a　drinking　spree。　The　secretary　went　haywire　and　shot　young　Cassidy。　I　read　it　in　the　papers　or　something。　Is　that　what　you　want　me　to　say？〃
　 〃You　read　it　in　the　papers；〃　I　said；　〃but　it　wasn't　so。　What's　more　you　knew　it　wasn't　so　and　the　D。A。　knew　it　wasn't　so　and　the　D。A。's　investigators　were　pulled　off　the　case　within　a　matter　of　hours。　There　was　no　inquest。　But　every　crime　reporter　in　town　and　every　cop　on　every　homicide　detail　knew　it　was　Cassidy　that　did　the　shooting；　that　it　was　Cassidy　that　was　crazy　drunk；　that　it　was　the　secretary　who　tried　to　handle　him　and　couldn't　and　at　last　tried　to　get　away　from　him；　but　wasn't　quick　enough。　Cassidy's　was　a　contact　wound　and　the　secretary's　was　not。　The　secretary　was　left…handed　and　he　had　a　cigarette　in　his　left　hand　when　he　was　shot。　Even　if　you　are　right…handed；　you　don't　change　a　cigarette　over　to　your　other　hand　and　shoot　a　man　while　casually　holding　the　cigarette。　They　might　do　that　on　Gang　Busters；　but　rich　men's　secretaries　don't　do　it。　And　what　were　the　family　and　the　family　doctor