raymondchandler.thehighwindow-第32部分

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ound　the　office　and　asked　the　manager　to　let　me　in　and　wait　for　you。　I　knew　you　would　know　what　to　do。〃
　 〃And　what　did　you　touch　in　the　house　while　you　were　there？〃　I　asked。　〃Can　you　remember　at　all？　I　mean；　besides　the　front　door。　Did　you　just　go　in　at　the　door　and　e　out　without　touching　anything　in　the　house？〃
　 She　thought　and　her　face　stopped　moving。　〃Oh；　I　remember　one　thing；〃　she　said。　〃I　put　the　light　out。　Before　I　left。　It　was　a　lamp。　One　of　these　lamps　that　shine　upwards；　with　big　bulbs。　I　put　that　out。〃
　 I　nodded　and　smiled　at　her。　Marlowe；　one　smile；　cheerful。　〃What　time　was　thishow　long　ago？〃
　 〃Oh　just　before　I　came　over　here。　I　drove。　I　had　Mrs。　Murdock's　car。　The　one　you　asked　about　yesterday。　I　forgot　to　tell　you　that　she　didn't　take　it　when　she　went　away。　Or　did　I？　No；　I　remember　now　I　did　tell　you。〃
　 〃Let's　see；〃　I　said。　〃Half　an　hour　to　drive　here　anyway。　You've　been　here　close　to　an　hour。　That　would　be　about　five…thirty　when　you　left　Mr。　Vannier's　house。　And　you　put　the　light　off。〃
　 〃That's　right。〃　She　nodded　again；　quite　brightly。　Pleased　at　remembering。　〃I　put　the　light　out。〃
　 〃Would　you　care　for　a　drink？〃　I　asked　her。
　 〃Oh；　no。〃　She　shook　her　head　quite　vigorously。　〃I　never　drink　anything　at　all。〃
　 〃Would　you　mind　if　I　had　one？〃
　 〃Certainly　not。　Why　should　I？〃
　 I　stood　up；　gave　her　a　studying　look。　Her　lip　was　still　going　up　and　her　head　was　still　going　around；　but　I　thought　not　so　far。　It　was　like　a　rhythm　which　is　dying　down。
　 It　was　difficult　to　know　how　far　to　go　with　this。　It　might　be　that　the　more　she　talked；　the　better。　Nobody　knows　very　much　about　the　time　of　absorption　of　a　shock。
　 I　said：　〃Where　is　your　home？〃
　 〃WhyI　live　with　Mrs。　Murdock。　In　Pasadena。〃
　 〃I　mean；　your　real　home。　Where　your　folks　are。〃
　 〃My　parents　live　in　Wichita；〃　she　said。　〃But　I　don't　go　thereever。　I　write　once　in　a　while；　but　I　haven't　seen　them　for　years。〃
　 〃What　does　your　father　do？〃
　 〃He　has　a　dog　and　cat　hospital。　He's　a　veterinarian。　I　hope　they　won't　have　to　know。　They　didn't　about　the　other　time。　Mrs。　Murdock　kept　it　from　everybody。〃
　 〃Maybe　they　won't　have　to　know；〃　I　said。　〃I'll　get　my　drink。〃
　 I　went　out　around　the　back　of　her　chair　to　the　kitchen　and　poured　it　and　I　made　it　a　drink　that　was　a　drink。　I　put　it　down　in　a　lump　and　took　the　little　gun　off　my　hip　and　saw　that　the　safety　was　on。　I　smelled　the　muzzle；　broke　out　the　magazine。　There　was　a　shell　in　the　chamber；　but　it　was　one　of　those　guns　that　won't　fire　when　the　magazine　is　out。　I　held　it　so　that　I　could　look　into　the　breech。　The　shell　in　there　was　the　wrong　size　and　was　crooked　against　the　breech　block。　It　looked　like　a　。32。　The　shells　in　the　magazine　were　the　right　size；　。25's。　I　fitted　the　gun　together　again　and　went　back　to　the　living　room。
　 I　hadn't　heard　a　sound。　She　had　just　slid　forward　in　a　pile　in　front　of　the　chair；　on　top　of　her　nice　hat。　She　was　as　cold　as　a　mackerel。
　 I　spread　her　out　a　little　and　took　her　glasses　off　and　made　sure　she　hadn't　swallowed　her　tongue。　I　wedged　my　folded　handkerchief　into　the　corner　of　her　mouth　so　that　she　wouldn't　bite　her　tongue　when　she　came　out　of　it。　I　went　to　the　phone　and　called　Carl　Moss。
　 〃Phil　Marlowe；　Doc。　Any　more　patients　or　are　you　through？〃
　 〃All　through；〃　he　said。　〃Leaving。　Trouble？〃
　 〃I'm　home；〃　I　said。　〃Four…o…eight　Bristol　Apartments；　if　you　don't　remember。　I've　got　a　girl　here　who　has　pulled　a　faint。　I'm　not　afraid　of　the　faint；　I'm　afraid　she　may　be　nuts　when　she　es　out　of　it。〃
　 〃Don't　give　her　any　liquor；〃　be　said。　〃I'm　on　my　way。〃
　 I　hung　up　and　knelt　down　beside　her。　I　began　to　rub　her　temples。　She　opened　her　eyes。　The　lip　started　to　lift。　I　pulled　the　handkerchief　out　of　her　mouth。　She　looked　up　at　me　and　said：　〃I've　been　over　to　Mr。　Vannier's　house。　He　lives　in　Sherman　Oaks。　I〃
　 〃Do　you　mind　if　I　lift　you　up　and　put　you　on　the　davenport？　You　know　meMarlowe；　the　big　boob　that　goes　around　asking　all　the　wrong　questions。〃
　 〃Hello；〃　she　said。
　 I　lifted　her。　She　went　stiff　on　me；　but　she　didn't　say　anything。　I　put　her　on　the　davenport　and　tucked　her　skirt　down　over　her　legs　and　put　a　pillow　under　her　head　and　picked　her　hat　up。　It　was　as　flat　as　a　flounder。　I　did　what　I　could　to　straighten　it　out　and　laid　it　aside　on　the　desk。
　 She　watched　me　sideways；　doing　this。
　 〃Did　you　call　the　police？〃　she　asked　softly。
　 〃Not　yet；〃　I　said。　〃I've　been　too　busy。〃
　 She　looked　surprised。　I　wasn't　quite　sure；　but　I　thought　she　looked　a　little　hurt；　too。
　 I　opened　up　her　bag　and　turned　my　back　to　her　to　slip　the　gun　back　into　it。　While　I　was　doing　that　I　took　a　look　at　what　else　was　in　the　bag。　The　usual　oddments；　a　couple　of　handkerchiefs；　lipstick；　a　silver　and　red　enamel　pact　with　powder　in　it；　a　couple　of　tissues；　a　purse　with　some　hard　money　and　a　few　dollar　bills；　no　cigarettes；　no　matches；　no　tickets　to　the　theater。
　 I　pulled　open　the　zipper　pocket　at　the　back。　That　held　her　driver's　license　and　a　flat　packet　of　bills；　ten　fifties。　I　riffled　them。　None　of　them　brand　new。　Tucked　into　the　rubber　band　that　held　them　was　a　folded　paper。　I　took　it　out　and　opened　it　and　read　it。　It　was　neatly　typewritten；　dated　that　day。　It　was　a　mon　receipt　form　and　it　would；　when　signed；　acknowledge　the　receipt　of　500。　〃Payment　on　Account。〃
　 It　didn't　seem　as　if　it　would　ever　be　signed　now。　I　slipped　money　and　receipt　into　my　pocket。　I　closed　the　bag　and　looked　over　at　the　davenport。
　 She　was　looking　at　the　ceiling　and　doing　that　with　her　face　again。　I　went　into　my　bedroom　and　got　a　blanket　to　throw　over　her。
　 Then　I　went　to　the　kitchen　for　another　drink。
　
　
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　 Dr。　Carl　Moss　was　a　big　burly　Jew　with　a　Hitler　mustache；　pop　eyes　and　the　calmness　of　a　glacier。　He　put　his　hat　and　bag　in　a　chair　and　went　over　and　stood　looking　down　at　the　girl　on　the　davenport　inscrutably。
　 〃I'm　Dr。　Moss；〃　he　said。　〃How　are　you？〃
　 She　said：　〃Aren't　you　the　police？〃
　 He　bent　down　and　felt　her　pulse　and　then　stood　there　watching　her　breathing。　〃Where　does　it　hurt；　Miss〃
　 〃Davis；〃　I　said。　〃Miss　Merle　Davis。〃
　 〃Miss　Davis。〃
　 〃Nothing　hurts　me；〃　she　said；　staring　up　at　him。　〃II　don't　even　know　why　I'm　lying　here　like　this。　I　thought　you　were　the　police。　You　see；　I　killed　a　man。〃
　 〃Well；　that's　a　normal　human　impulse；〃　he　said。　〃I've　killed　dozens。〃　He　didn't　smile。
　 She　lifted　her　lip　and　moved　her　head　around　for　him。
　 〃You　know　you　don't　have　to　do　that；〃　he　said；　quite　gently。　〃You　feel　a　twitch　of　the　nerves　here　and　there　and　you　proceed　to　build　it　up　and　dramatize　it。　You　can　control　it；　if　you　want　to。〃
　 〃Can　I？〃　she　whispered。
　 〃If　you　want　to；〃　he　said。　〃You　don't　have　to。　It　doesn't　make　any　difference　to　me　either　way。　Nothing　pains　at　all；　eh？〃
　 〃No。〃　She　shook　her　head。
　 He　patted　her　shoulder　and　walked　out　to　the　kitchen。　I　went　after　him。　He　leaned　his　hips　against　the　sink　and　gave　me　a　cool　stare。　〃What's　the　story？〃
　 〃She's　the　secretary　of　a　client。　A　Mrs。　Murdock　in　Pasadena。　The　client　is　rather　a　brute。　About　eight　years　ago　a　man　made　a　hard　pass　at　Merle。　How　hard　I　don't　know。　ThenI　don't　mean　immediatelybut　around　that　time　he　fell　out　of　a　window　or　jumped。　Since　then　she　can't　have　a　man　touch　hernot　in　the　most　casual　way；　I　mean。〃
　 〃Uh…huh。〃　His　pop　eyes　continued　to　read　my　face。　〃Does　she　think　he　jumped　out　of　the　window　on　her　account？〃
　 〃I　don't　know。　Mrs。　Murdock　is　the　man's　widow。　She　married　again　and　her　second　husband　is　dead　too。　Merle　has　stayed　with　her。　The　old　woman　treats　her　like　a　rough　parent　treats　a　naughty　child。〃
　 〃I　see。　Regressive。〃
　 〃What's　that？〃
　 〃Emotional　shock；　and　the　subconscious　attempt　to　escape　back　to　childhood。　If　Mrs。　Murdock　scolds　her　a　good　deal；　but　not　too　much；　that　would　increase　the　tendency。　Identification　of　childhood　subordination　with　childhood　protection。〃
　 〃Do　we　have　to　go　into　that　stuff？〃　I　growled。
　 He　grinned　at　me　calmly。　〃Look；　pal。　The　girl's　obviously　a　neurotic。　It's　partly　induced　and　partly　deliberate。　I　mean　to　say　that　she　really　enjoys　a　lot　of　it。　Even　if　she　doesn't　realize　that　she　enjoys　it。　However；　that's　not　of　immediate　importance。　What's　this　about　killing　a　man？〃
　 〃A　man　named　Vannier　who　lives　in　Sherman　Oaks。　There　seems　to　be　some　blackmail　angle。　Merle　had　to　take　him　his　money；　from　time　to　time。　She　was　afraid　of　him。　I've　seen　the　guy。　A　nasty　type。　She　went　over　there　this　afternoon　and　she　says　she　shot　him。〃
　 〃Why？〃
　 〃She　says　she　didn't　like　the　way　he　leered　at　her。
　 〃Shot　him　with　what？〃
　 〃She　had　a　gun　in　her　bag。　Don't　ask　me　why。　I　don't　know。　But　if　she　shot　him；　it　wasn't　with　that。　The　gun's　got　a　wrong　cartridge　in　the　breech。　It　can't　be　fired　as　it　is。　Also　it　hasn't　been　fired。〃
　 〃This　is　too　deep　for　me；〃　he　said。　〃I'm　just　a　doctor。　What　did　you　want　me　to　do　with　her？〃
　 〃Also；〃　I　said；　ignoring　the　question；　〃she　said　the　lamp　was　turned　on　and　it　was　about　five…thirty　of　a　nice　summery　afternoon。　And　the　guy　was　wearing　his　sleeping　suit　and　there　was　a　key　in　the　lock　of　the　front　door。　And　he　didn't　get　up　to　let　her　in。　He　just　sort　of　sat　there　sort　of　leering。〃
　 He　nodded　and　said：　〃Oh。〃　He　pushed　a　ciga