rc.theladyinthelake-第1部分

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　　The　Treloar　Building　was；　and　is；　on　Olive　Street；　near　Sixth；　on　the　west　side。　The　sidewalk　in　front　of　it　had　been　built　of　black　and　white　rubber　blocks。　They　were　taking　them　up　now　to　give　to　the　government；　and　a　hatless　pale　man　with　a　face　like　a　building　superintendent　was　watching　the　work　and　looking　as　if　it　was　breaking　his　heart。
　　I　went　past　him　through　an　arcade　of　specialty　shops　into　a　vast　black　and　gold　lobby。　The　Gillerlain　pany　was　on　the　seventh　floor；　in　front；　behind　swinging　double　plate　glass　doors　bound　in　platinum。　Their　reception　room　had　Chinese　rugs；　dull　silver　walls；　angular　but　elaborate　furniture；　sharp　shiny　bits　of　abstract　sculpture　on　pedestals　and　a　tall　display　in　a　triangular　showcase　in　the　corner。　On　tiers　and　steps　and　islands　and　promontories　of　shining　mirror…glass　it　seemed　to　contain　every　fancy　bottle　and　box　that　had　ever　been　designed。　There　were　creams　and　powders　and　soaps　and　toilet　waters　for　every　season　and　every　occasion。　There　were　perfumes　in　tall　thin　bottles　that　looked　as　if　a　breath　would　blow　them　over　and　perfumes　in　little　pastel　phials　tied　with　ducky　satin　bows；　like　the　little　girls　at　a　dancing　class。　The　cream　of　the　crop　seemed　to　be　something　very　small　and　simple　in　a　squat　amber　bottle。　It　was　in　the　middle　at　eye　height；　had　a　lot　of　space　to　itself；　and　was　labelled　_Gillerlain　Regal；　The　Champagne　of　Perfumes_。　It　was　definitely　the　stuff　to　get。　One　drop　of　that　in　the　hollow　of　your　throat　and　the　matched　pink　pearls　started　falling　on　you　like　summer　rain。
　　A　neat　little　blonde　sat　off　in　a　far　corner　at　a　small　PBX；　behind　a　railing　and　well　out　of　harm's　way。　At　a　flat　desk　in　line　with　the　doors　was　a　tall；　lean；　darkhaired　lovely　whose　name；　according　to　the　tilted　embossed　plaque　on　her　desk；　was　Miss　Adrienne　Fromsett。
　　She　wore　a　steel　gray　business　suit　and　under　the　jacket　a　dark　blue　shirt　and　a　man's　tie　of　lighter　shade。　The　edges　of　the　folded　handkerchief　in　the　breast　pocket　looked　sharp　enough　to　slice　bread。　She　wore　a　linked　bracelet　and　no　other　jewelry。　Her　dark　hair　was　parted　and　fell　in　loose　but　not　unstudied　waves。　She　had　a　smooth　ivory　skin　and　rather　severe　eyebrows　and　large　dark　eyes　that　looked　as　if　they　might　warm　up　at　the　right　time　and　in　the　right　place。
　　I　put　my　plain　card；　the　one　without　the　tommy　gun　in　the　corner；　on　her　desk　and　asked　to　see　Mr。　Derace　Kingsley。　She　looked　at　the　card　and　said：　〃Have　you　an　appointment？〃
　　〃No　appointment。〃
　　〃It　is　very　difficult　to　see　Mr。　Kingsley　without　an　appointment。〃　That　wasn't　anything　I　could　argue　about。
　　〃What　is　the　nature　of　your　business；　Mr。　Marlowe？〃
　　〃Personal。〃
　　〃I　see。　Does　Mr。　Kingsley　know　you；　Mr。　Marlowe？〃
　　〃I　don't　think　so。　He　may　have　heard　my　name。　You　might　say　I'm　from　Lieutenant　M'Gee。〃
　　〃And　does　Mr。　Kingsley　know　Lieutenant　M'Gee？〃　She　put　my　card　beside　a　pile　of　freshly　typed　letterheads。　She　leaned　back　and　put　one　arm　on　the　desk　and　tapped　lightly　with　a　small　gold　pencil。
　　I　grinned　at　her。　The　little　blonde　at　the　PBX　cocked　a　shell…like　ear　and　smiled　a　small　fluffy　smile。　She　looked　playful　and　eager；　but　not　quite　sure　of　herself；　like　a　new　kitten　in　a　house　where　they　don't　care　much　about　kittens。
　　〃I'm　hoping　he　does；〃　I　said。　〃But　maybe　the　best　way　to　find　out　is　to　ask　him。〃

　　She　initialed　three　letters　rapidly；　to　keep　from　throwing　her　pen　set　at　me。　She　spoke　again　without　looking　up。
　　〃Mr。　Kingsley　is　in　conference。　I'll　send　your　card　in　when　I　have　an　opportunity。〃　I　thanked　her　and　went　and　sat　in　a　chromium　and　leather　chair　that　was　a　lot　more　fortable　than　it　looked。　Time　passed　and　silence　descended　on　the　scene。　Nobody　came　in　or　went　out。　Miss　Fromsett's　elegant　hand　moved　over　her　papers　and　the　muted　peep　of　the　kitten　at　the　PBX　was　audible　at　moments；　and　the　little　click　of　the　plugs　going　in　and　out。
　　I　lit　a　cigarette　and　dragged　a　smoking　stand　beside　the　chair。　The　minutes　went　by　on　tiptoe；　with　their　fingers　to　their　lips。　I　looked　the　place　over。　You　can't　tell　anything　about　an　ouffit　like　that。　They　might　be　making　millions；　and　they　might　have　the　sheriff　in　the　back　room；　with　his　chair　tilted　against　the　safe。
　　Half　an　hour　and　three　or　four　cigarettes　later　a　door　opened　behind　Miss　Fromsett's　desk　and　two　men　came　out　backwards　laughing。　A　third　man　held　the　door　for　them　and　helped　them　laugh。　They　all　shook　hands　heartily　and　the　two　men　went　across　the　office　and　out。　The　third　man　dropped　the　grin　off　his　face　and　looked　as　if　he　had　never　grinned　in　his　life。　He　was　a　tall　bird　in　a　gray　suit　and　he　didn't　want　any　nonsense。
　　〃Any　calls？〃　he　asked　in　a　sharp　bossy　voice。
　　Miss　Fromsett　said　softly：　〃A　Mr。　Marlowe　to　see　you。　From　Lieutenant　M'Gee。　His　business　is　personal。〃
　　〃Never　heard　of　him；〃　the　tall　man　barked。　He　took　my　card；　didn't　even　glance　at　me；　and　went　back　into　his　office。　His　door　closed　on　the　pneumatic　closer　and　made　a　sound　like　〃phooey。〃　Miss　Fromsett　gave　me　a　sweet　sad　smile　and　I　gave　it　back　to　her　in　the　form；　of　an　obscene　leer。　I　ate　another　cigarette　and　more　time　staggered　by。　I　was　getting　to　be　very　fond　of　the　Gillerlain　pany。
　　Ten　minutes　later　the　same　door　opened　again　and　the　big　shot　came　out　with　his　hat　on　and　sneered　that　he　was　going　to　get　a　hair…cut。　He　started　off　across　the　Chinese　rug　in　a　swinging　athletic　stride；　made　about　half　the　distance　to　the　door　and　then　did　a　sharp　cutback　and　came　over　to　Where　I　was　sitting。
　　〃You　want　to　see　me？〃　he　barked。
　　He　was　about　six　feet　two　and　not　much　of　it　soft。　His　eyes　were　stone　gray　with　flecks　of　cold　light　in　them。　He　filled　a　large　size　in　smooth　gray　flannel　with　a　narrow　chalk　stripe；　and　filled　it　elegantly。　His　manner　said　he　was　very　tough　to　get　along　with。
　　I　stood　up。　〃If　you're　Mr。　Derace　Kingsley。〃
　　〃Who　the　hell　did　you　think　I　was？〃　I　let　him　have　that　trick　and　gave　him　my　other　card；　the　one　with　the　business　on　it。　He　clamped　it　in　his　paw　and　scowled　down　at　it。
　　〃Who's　M'Gee？〃　he　snapped。
　　〃He's　just　a　fellow　I　know。〃
　　〃I'm　fascinated；〃　he　said；　glancing　back　at　Miss　Fromsett。　She　liked　it。　She　liked　it　very　much。　〃Anything　else　you　would　care　to　let　drop　about　him？〃
　　〃Well；　they　call　him　Violets　M'Gee；〃　I　said。　〃On　ac…count　of　he　chews　little　throat　pastilles　that　smell　of　violets。　He's　a　big　man　with　soft　silvery　hair　and　a　cute　little　mouth　made　to　kiss　babies　with。　When　last　seen　he　was　wearing　a　neat　blue　suit；　wide…toed　brown　shoes；　gray　homburg　hat；　and　he　was　smoking　opium　in　a　short　briar　pipe。〃
　　〃I　don't　like　your　manner；〃　Kingsley　said　in　a　voice　you　could　have　cracked　a　Brazil　nut　on。
　　〃That's　all　right；〃　I　said。　〃I'm　not　selling　it。〃　He　reared　back　as　if　I　had　hung　a　week…old　mackerel　under　his　nose。　After　a　moment　he　turned　his　back　on　me　and　said　over　his　shoulder：　〃I'll　give　you　exactly　three　minutes。　God　knows　why。〃　He　burned　the　carpet　back　past　Miss　Fromsett's　desk　to　his　door；　yanked　it　open　and　let　it　swing　to　in　my　face。　Miss　Fromsett　liked　that　too；　but　I　thought　there　was　a　little　siy　laughter　behind　her　eyes　now。
　　
　　
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　　The　private　office　was　everything　a　private　office　should　be。　It　was　long　and　dim　and　quiet　and　air…conditioned　and　its　windows　were　shut　and　its　gray　venetian　blinds　half…closed　to　keep　out　the　July　glare。　Gray　drapes　matched　the　gray　carpeting。　There　was　a　large　black　and　silver　safe　in　the　corner　and　a　low　row　of　low　filing　cases　that　exactly　matched　it。　On　the　wall　there　was　a　huge　tinted　photograph　of　an　elderly　party　with　a　chiselled　beak　and　whiskers　and　a　wing　collar。　The　Adam's　apple　that　edged　through　his　wing　collar　looked　harder　than　most　people's　chins。　The　plate　underneath　the　photograph　read：　_Mr。　Matthew　Gillerlain　1860…1934_。
　　Derace　Kingsley　marched　briskly　behind　about　eight　hundred　dollars'　worth　of　executive　desk　and　planted　his　backside　in　a　tall　leather　chair。　He　reached　himself　a　panatela　out　of　a　copper　and　mahogany　box　and　trimmed　it　and　lit　it　with　a　fat　copper　desk　lighter。　He　took　his　time　about　it。　It　didn't　matter　about　my　time。　When　he　had　finished　this；　he　leaned　back　and　blew　a　little　smoke　and　said：　〃I'm　a　business　man。　I　don't　fool　around。　You're　a　licensed　detective　your　card　says。　Show　me　something　to　prove　it。〃　I　got　my　wallet　out　and　handed　him　things　to　prove　it。　He　looked　at　them　and　threw　them　back　across　the　desk。　The　celluloid　holder　with　the　photostat　license　in　it　fell　to　the　floor。　He　didn't　bother　to　apologize。
　　〃I　don't　know　M'Gee；〃　he　said。　〃I　know　Sheriff　Petersen。　I　asked　for　the　name　of　a　reliable　man　to　do　a　job。　I　suppose　you　are　the　man。〃
　　〃M'Gee　is　in　the　Hollywood　sub…station　of　the　sheriff's　office；〃　I　said。　〃You　can　check　on　that。〃
　　〃Not　necessary。　I　guess　you　might　do；　but　don't　get　flip　with　me。　And　remember　when　I　hire　a　man　he's　my　man。　He　does　exactly　what　I　tell　him　and　he　keeps　his　mouth　shut。　Or　he　goes　out　fast。　Is　that　clear？　I　hope　I'm　not　too　tough　for　you。〃
　　〃Why　not　leave　that　an　open　question？〃　I　said。
　　He　frowned。　He　said　sharply：　〃What　do　you　charge？〃
　　〃Twenty…five　a　day　and　expe