raymondchandler.thehighwindow-第23章

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e　thing　about　it。　It　was　all　done　in　a　kind　of　printing。〃
　 I　said：　〃Printing？〃
　 〃Yeah；　printing　in　pen　and　ink。　Not　big　block　caps　like　people　trying　to　disguise　things。　Just　neat　fast　little　printing　as　if　the　guy　could　write　that　way　as　fast　and　easy　as　any　way。〃
　 〃He　didn't　write　like　that　on　the　card　he　gave　me；〃　I　said。
　 Breeze　thought　about　that　for　a　moment。　Then　he　nodded。　〃True。　Maybe　it　was　this　way。　There　wasn't　any　name　in　the　diary　either；　in　the　front。　Maybe　the　printing　was　just　a　little　game　he　played　with　himself。〃
　 〃Like　Pepys'　shorthand；〃　I　said。
　 〃What　was　that？〃
　 〃A　diary　a　man　wrote　in　a　private　shorthand；　a　long　time　ago。〃
　 Breeze　looked　at　Spangler；　who　was　standing　up　in　front　of　his　chair；　tipping　the　last　few　drops　of　his　glass。
　 〃We　better　beat　it；〃　Breeze　said。　〃This　guy　is　warming　up　for　another　Cassidy　case。〃
　 Spangler　put　his　glass　down　and　they　both　went　over　to　the　door。　Breeze　shuffled　a　foot　and　looked　at　me　sideways；　with　his　hand　on　the　doorknob。
　 〃You　know　any　tall　blonds？〃
　 〃I'd　have　to　think；〃　I　said。　〃I　hope　so。　How　tall？〃
　 〃Just　tall。　I　don't　know　how　tall　that　is。　Except　that　it　would　be　tall　to　a　guy　who　is　tall　himself。　A　wop　named　Palermo　owns　that　apartment　house　on　Court　Street。　We　went　across　to　see　him　in　his　funeral　parlors。　He　owns　them　too。　He　says　he　saw　a　tall　blond　e　out　of　the　apartment　house　about　three…thirty。　The　manager；　Passmore；　don't　place　anybody　in　the　joint　that　he　would　call　a　tall　blond。　The　wop　says　she　was　a　looker。　I　give　some　weight　to　what　he　says　because　he　give　us　a　good　description　of　you。　He　didn't　see　this　tall　blond　go　in；　just　saw　her　e　out。　She　was　wearing　slacks　and　a　sports　jacket　and　a　wrap…around。　But　she　had　light　blond　hair　and　plenty　of　it　under　the　wrap…around。〃
　 〃Nothing　es　to　me；〃　I　said。　〃But　I　just　remembered　something　else。　I　wrote　the　license　number　of　Phillips'　car　down　on　the　back　of　an　envelope。　That　will　give　you　his　former　address；　probably。　I'll　get　it。〃
　 They　stood　there　while　I　went　to　get　it　out　of　my　coat　in　the　bedroom。　I　handed　the　piece　of　envelope　to　Breeze　and　he　read　what　was　on　it　and　tucked　it　into　his　billfold。
　 〃So　you　just　thought　of　this；　huh？〃
　 〃That's　right。〃
　 〃Well；　well；〃　he　said。　〃Well；　well。〃
　 The　two　of　them　went　along　the　hallway　towards　the　elevator；　shaking　their　heads。
　 I　shut　the　door　and　went　back　to　my　almost　untasted　second　drink。　It　was　flat。　I　carried　it　to　the　kitchen　and　hardened　it　up　from　the　bottle　and　stood　there　holding　it　and　looking　out　of　the　window　at　the　eucalyptus　trees　tossing　their　limber　tops　against　the　bluish　dark　sky。　The　wind　seemed　to　have　risen　again。　It　thumped　at　the　north　window　and　there　was　a　heavy　slow　pounding　noise　on　the　wall　of　the　building；　like　a　thick　wire　banging　the　stucco　between　insulators。
　 I　tasted　my　drink　and　wished　I　hadn't　wasted　the　fresh　whiskey　on　it。　I　poured　it　down　the　sink　and　got　a　fresh　glass　and　drank　some　ice　water。
　 Twelve　hours　to　tie　up　a　situation　which　I　didn't　even　begin　to　understand。　Either　that　or　turn　up　a　client　and　let　the　cops　go　to　work　on　her　and　her　whole　family。　Hire　Marlowe　and　get　your　house　full　of　law。　Why　worry？　Why　be　doubtful　and　confused？　Why　be　gnawed　by　suspicion？　Consult　cockeyed；　careless；　clubfooted；　dissipated　investigator。　Philip　Marlowe；　Glenview　7537。　See　me　and　you　meet　the　best　cops　in　town。　Why　despair？　Why　be　lonely？　Call　Marlowe　and　watch　the　wagon　e。
　 This　didn't　get　me　anywhere　either。　I　went　back　to　the　living　room　and　put　a　match　to　the　pipe　that　had　cooled　off　now　on　the　edge　of　the　chess　table。　I　drew　the　smoke　in　slowly；　but　it　still　tasted　like　the　smell　of　hot　rubber。　I　put　it　away　and　stood　in　the　middle　of　the　floor　pulling　my　lower　lip　out　and　letting　it　snap　back　against　my　teeth。
　 The　telephone　rang。　I　picked　it　up　and　growled　into　it。
　 〃Marlowe？〃
　 The　voice　was　a　harsh　low　whisper。　It　was　a　harsh　low　whisper　I　had　heard　before。
　 〃All　right；〃　I　said。　〃Talk　it　up　whoever　you　are。　Whose　pocket　have　I　got　my　hand　in　now？〃
　 〃Maybe　you're　a　smart　guy；〃　the　harsh　whisper　said。　〃Maybe　you　would　like　to　do　yourself　some　good。〃
　 〃How　much　good？〃
　 〃Say　about　five　C's　worth　of　good。〃
　 〃That's　grand；〃　I　said。　〃Doing　what？〃
　 〃Keeping　your　nose　clean；〃　the　voice　said。　〃Want　to　talk　about　it？〃
　 〃Where；　when；　and　who　to？〃
　 〃Idle　Valley　Club。　Morny。　Any　time　you　get　here。〃
　 〃Who　are　you？〃
　 A　dim　chuckle　came　over　the　wire。　〃Just　ask　at　the　gate　for　Eddie　Prue。〃
　 The　phone　clicked　dead。　I　hung　it　up。
　 It　was　near　eleven…thirty　when　I　backed　my　car　out　of　the　garage　and　drove　towards　Cahuenga　Pass。
　
　
　17
　
　 About　twenty　miles　north　of　the　pass　a　wide　boulevard　with　flowering　moss　in　the　parkways　turned　towards　the　foothills。　It　ran　for　five　blocks　and　diedwithout　a　house　in　its　entire　length。　From　its　end　a　curving　asphalt　road　dove　into　the　hills。　This　was　Idle　Valley。
　 Around　the　shoulder　of　the　first　hill　there　was　a　low　white　building　with　a　tiled　roof　beside　the　road。　It　had　a　roofed　porch　and　a　floodlighted　sign　on　it　read：　Idle　Valley　Patrol。　Open　gates　were　folded　back　on　the　shoulders　of　the　road；　in　the　middle　of　which　a　square　white　sign　standing　on　its　point　said　STOP　in　letters　sprinkled　with　reflector　buttons。　Another　floodlight　blistered　the　space　of　road　in　front　of　the　sign。
　 I　stopped。　A　uniformed　man　with　a　star　and　a　strapped…on　gun　in　a　woven　leather　holster　looked　at　my　car；　then　at　a　board　on　a　post。
　 He　came　over　to　the　car。　〃Good　evening。　I　don't　have　your　car。　This　is　a　private　road。　Visiting？〃
　 〃Going　to　the　club。〃
　 〃Which　one？〃
　 〃Idle　Valley　Club。〃
　 〃Eighty…seven　Seventy…seven。　That's　what　we　call　it　here。　You　mean　Mr。　Morny's　place？〃
　 〃Right。〃
　 〃You're　not　a　member；　I　guess。〃
　 〃No。〃
　 〃I　have　to　check　you　in。　To　somebody　who　is　a　member　or　to　somebody　who　lives　in　the　valley。　All　private　property　here；　you　know。〃
　 〃No　gate　crashers；　huh？〃
　 He　smiled。　〃No　gate　crashers。〃
　 〃The　name　is　Philip　Marlowe；〃　I　said。　〃Calling　on　Eddie　Prue。〃
　 〃Prue？〃
　 〃He's　Mr。　Morny's　secretary。　Or　something。〃
　 〃Just　a　minute；　please。〃
　 He　went　to　the　door　of　the　building；　and　spoke。　Another　uniformed　man　inside；　plugged　in　on　a　PBX。　A　car　came　up　behind　me　and　honked。　The　clack　of　a　typewriter　came　from　the　open　door　of　the　patrol　office。　The　man　who　had　spoken　to　me　looked　at　the　honking　car　and　waved　it　in。　It　slid　around　me　and　scooted　off　into　the　dark；　a　green　long　open　convertible　sedan　with　three　dizzy…looking　dames　in　the　front　seat；　all　cigarettes　and　arched　eyebrows　and　go…to…hell　expressions。　The　car　flashed　around　a　curve　and　was　gone。
　 The　uniformed　man　came　back　to　me　and　put　a　hand　on　the　car　door。　〃Okay；　Mr。　Marlowe。　Check　with　the　officer　at　the　club；　please。　A　mile　ahead　on　your　right。　There's　a　lighted　parking　lot　and　the　number　on　the　wall。　Just　the　number。　Eighty…seven　Seventy…seven。　Check　with　the　officer　there；　please。〃
　 I　said：　〃Why　would　I　do　that？〃
　 He　was　very　calm；　very　polite；　and　very　firm。　〃We　have　to　know　exactly　where　you　go。　There's　a　great　deal　to　protect　in　Idle　Valley。〃
　 〃Suppose　I　don't　check　with　him？〃
　 〃You　kidding　me？〃　His　voice　hardened。
　 〃No。　I　just　wanted　to　know。〃
　 〃A　couple　of　cruisers　would　start　looking　for　you。〃
　 〃How　many　are　you　in　the　patrol？〃
　 〃Sorry；〃　he　said。　〃About　a　mile　ahead　on　the　right；　Mr。　Marlowe。〃
　 I　looked　at　the　gun　strapped　to　his　hip；　the　special　badge　pinned　to　his　shirt。　〃And　they　call　this　a　democracy；〃　I　said。
　 He　looked　behind　him　and　then　spat　on　the　ground　and　put　a　hand　on　the　sill　of　the　car　door。　〃Maybe　you　got　pany；〃　he　said。　〃I　knew　a　fellow　belonged　to　the　John　Reed　Club。　Over　in　Boyle　Heights；　it　was。〃
　 〃Tovarich；〃　I　said。
　 〃The　trouble　with　revolutions；〃　he　said；　〃is　that　they　get　in　the　hands　of　the　wrong　people。〃
　 〃Check；〃　I　said。
　 〃On　the　other　hand；〃　he　said；　〃could　they　be　any　wronger　than　the　bunch　of　rich　phonies　that　live　around　here？〃
　 〃Maybe　you'll　be　living　in　here　yourself　someday；〃　I　said。　He　spat　again。　〃I　wouldn't　live　in　here　if　they　paid　me　fifty　thousand　a　year　and　let　me　sleep　in　chif