rc.theladyinthelake-第39部分

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have　to　turn　around　now；〃　she　said；　polite　as　a　tailor　at　a　fitting。
　　〃There's　something　a　little　off　key　about　everything　you　do；〃　I　said。　〃You're　definitely　not　good　with　guns。　You're　much　too　close　to　me；　and　I　hate　to　bring　this　up…but　there's　that　old　business　of　the　safety　catch　not　being　off。　You've　overlooked　that　too。〃　So　she　started　to　do　two　things　at　once。　To　take　a　long　step　backwards　and　to　feel　with　her　thumb　for　the　safety　catch；　without　taking　her　eyes　off　my　face。　Two　very　simple　things；　needing　only　a　second　to　do。　But　she　didn't　like　my　telling　her。　She　didn't　like　my　thought　riding　over　hers。　The　minute　confusion　of　it　jarred　her。
　　She　let　out　a　small　choked　sound　and　I　dropped　my　right　hand　and　yanked　her　face　hard　against　my　chest。　My　left　hand　smashed　down　on　her　right　wrist；　the　heel　of　my　hand　against　the　base　of　her　thumb。　The　gun　jerked　out　of　her　hand　to　the　floor。　Her　face　writhed　against　my　chest　and　I　think　she　was　trying　to　scream。
　　Then　she　tried　to　kick　me　and　lost　what　little　balance　she　had　left。　Her　hands　came　up　to　claw　at　me。　I　caught　her　wrist　and　began　to　twist　it　behind　her　back。　She　was　very　strong；　but　I　was　very　much　stronger。　So　she　decided　to　go　limp　and　let　her　whole　weight　sag　against　the　hand　that　was　holding　her　head。　I　couldn't　hold　her　up　with　one　hand。　She　started　to　go　down　and　I　had　to　bend　down　with　her。
　　There　were　vague　sounds　of　our　scuffling　on　the　floor　by　the　davenport；　and　hard　breathing；　and　if　a　floor　board　creaked　I　didn't　hear　it。　I　thought　a　curtain　ring　checked　sharply　on　a　rod。　I　wasn't　sure　and　I　had　no　time　to　consider　the　question。　A　figure　loomed　up　suddenly　on　my　left；　just　behind；　and　out　of　range　of　clear　vision。　I　knew　there　was　a　man　there　and　that　he　was　a　big　man。
　　That　was　all　I　knew。　The　scene　exploded　into　fire　and　darkness。　I　didn't　even　remember　being　slugged。　Fire　and　darkness　and　just　before　the　darkness　a　sharp　flash　of　nausea。
　　
　　
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　　I　smelled　of　gin。　Not　just　casually；　as　if　I　had　taken　four　or　five　drinks　of　a　winter　morning　to　get　out　of　bed　on；　but　as　'if　the　Pacific　Ocean　was　pure　gin　and　I　had　nosedived　off　the　boat　deck。　The　gin　was　in　my　hair　and　eyebrows；　on　my　chin　and　under　my　chin。　It　was　on　my　shirt。　I　smelled　like　dead　toads。
　　My　coat　was　off　and　I　was　lying　flat　on　my　back　beside　the　davenport　on　somebody's　carpet　and　I　was　looking　at　a　framed　picture。　The　frame　was　of　cheap　soft　wood　varnished　and　the　picture　showed　part　of　an　enormously　high　pale　yellow　viaduct　across　which　a　shiny　black　lootive　was　dragging　a　Prussian　blue　train。　Through　one　lofty　arch　of　the　viaduct　a　wide　yellow　beach　showed　and　was　dotted　with　sprawled　bathers　and　striped　beach　umbrellas。　Three　girls　walked　close　up；　with　paper　parasols；　one　girl　in　cerise；　one　in　pale　blue；　one　in　green。　Beyond　the　beach　a　curving　bay　was　bluer　than　any　bay　has　any　right　to　be。　It　was　drenched　with　sunshine　and　flecked　and　dotted　with　arching　white　sails。　Beyond　the　inland　curve　of　the　bay　three　ranges　of　hills　rose　in　three　precisely　opposed　colors；　gold　and　terra　cotta　and　lavender。
　　Across　the　bottom　of　the　picture　was　printed　in　large　capitals　SEE　THE　FRENCH　RIVIERA　BY　THE　BLUE　TRAIN。
　　It　was　a　fine　time　to　bring　that　up。
　　I　reached　up　wearily　and　felt　the　back　of　my　head。　It　felt　pulpy。　A　shoot　of　pain　from　the　touch　went　clear　to　the　soles　of　my　feet。　I　groaned；　and　made　a　grunt　out　of　the　groan；　from　professional　pride…what　was　left　of　it。　I　rolled　over　slowly　and　carefully　and　looked　at　the　foot　of　a　pulled　down　wall　bed；　one　twin；　the　other　being　still　up。　in　the　wall。　The　flourish　of　design　on　the　painted　wood　was　familiar。　The　picture　had　hung　over　the　davenport　and　I　hadn't　even　looked　at　it。
　　When　I　rolled　a　square　gin　bottle　rolled　off　my　chest　and　hit　the　floor。　It　was　water　white；　and　empty。　It　didn't　seem　possible　there　could　be　so　much　gin　in　just　one　bottle。
　　I　got　my　knees　under　me　and　stayed　on　all　fours　for　a　while；　sniffing　like　a　dog　who　can't　finish　his　dinner；　but　hates　to　leave　it。　I　moved　my　head　around　on　my　neck。　It　hurt。　I　moved　it　around　some　more　and　it　still　hurt；　so　I　climbed　up　on　my　feet　and　discovered　I　didn't　have　any　shoes　on。
　　The　shoes　were　lying　against　the　baseboard；　looking　as　dissipated　as　shoes　ever　looked。　I　put　them　on　wearily。　I　was　an　old　man　now。　I　was　going　down　the　last　long　hill。　I　still　had　a　tooth　left　though。　I　felt　it　with　my　tongue。　It　didn't　seem　to　taste　of　gin。
　　〃It　will　all　e　back　to　you；〃　I　said。　〃Some　day　it　will　all　e　back　to　you。　And　you　won't　like　it。〃　There　was　the　lamp　on　the　table　by　the　open　window。　There　was　the　fat　green　davenport。　There　was　the　doorway　with　the　green　curtains　across　it。　Never　sit　with　your　back　to　a　green　curtain。　It　always　turns　out　badly。　Something　always　happens。　Who　had　I　said　that　to？　A　girl　with　a　gun。　A　girl　with　a　clear　empty　face　and　dark　brown　hair　that　had　been　blond。
　　I　looked　around　for　her。　She　was　still　there。　She　was　lying　on　the　pulled…down　twin　bed。
　　She　was　wearing　a　pair　of　tan　stockings　and　nothing　else。　Her　hair　was　tumbled。　There　were　dark　bruises　on　her　throat。　Her　mouth　was　open　and　a　swollen　tongue　filled　it　to　over…flowing。　Her　eyes　bulged　and　the　whites　of　them　were　not　white。
　　Across　her　naked　belly　four　angry　scratches　leered　crimson　red　against　the　whiteness　of　flesh。　Deep　angry　scratches；　gouged　out　by　four　bitter　fingernails。
　　On　the　davenport　there　were　tumbled　clothes；　mostly　hers。　My　coat　was　there　also。　I　disentangled　it　and　put　it　on。　Something　crackled　under　my　hand　in　the　tumbled　clothes。　I　drew　out　a　long　envelope　with　money　still　in　it。　I　put　it　in　my　pocket。　Marlowe；　five　hundred　dollars。　I　hoped　it　was　all　there。　There　didn't　seem　much　else　to　hope　for。
　　I　stepped　on　the　balls　of　my　feet　softly；　as　if　walking　on　very　thin　ice。　I　bent　down　to　rub　behind　my　knee　and　wondered　which　hurt　most；　my　knee；　or　my　head　when　I　bent　down　to　nib　the　knee。
　　Heavy　feet　came　along　the　hallway　and　there　was　a　hard　mutter　of　voices。　The　feet　stopped。　A　hard　fist　knocked　on　the　door。
　　I　stood　there　leering　at　the　door；　with　my　lips　drawn　back　tight　against　my　teeth。　I　waited　for　somebody　to　open　the　door　and　walk　in。　The　knob　was　tried；　but　nobody　walked　in。　The　knocking　began　again；　stopped；　the　voices　muttered　again。　The　steps　went　away。　I　wondered　how　long　it　would　take　to　get　the　manager　with　a　pass　key。　Not　very　long。
　　Not　nearly　long　enough　for　Marlowe　to　get　home　from　the　French　Riviera。
　　I　went　to　the　green　curtain　and　brushed　it　aside　and　looked　down　a　short　dark　hallway　into　a　bathroom。　I　went　in　there　and　put　the　light　on。　Two　wash　rugs　on　the　floor；　a　bath　mat　folded　over　the　edge　of　the　tub；　a　pebbled　glass　window　at　the　corner　of　the　tub。　I　shut　the　bathroom　door　and　stood　on　the　edge　of　the　tub　and　eased　the　window　up。　This　was　the　sixth　floor。　There　was　no　screen。　I　put　my　head　out　and　looked　into　darkness　and　a　narrow　glimpse　of　a　street　with　trees。　I　looked　sideways　and　saw　that　the　bathroom　window　of　the　next　apartment　was　not　more　than　three　feet　away。　A　wellnourished　mountain　goat　could　make　it　without　any　trouble　at　all。
　　The　question　was　whether　a　battered　private　detective　could　make　it；　and　if　so；　what　the　harvest　would　be。
　　Behind　me　a　rather　remote　and　muffled　voice　seemed　to　be　chanting　the　policeman's　litany：　〃Open　it　up　or　we'll　kick　it　in。〃　I　sneered　back　at　the　voice。　They　wouldn't　kick　it　in　because　kicking　in　a　door　is　hard　on　the　feet。　Policemen　are　kind　to　their　feet。　Their　feet　are　about　all　they　are　kind　to。
　　I　grabbed　a　towel　off　the　rack　and　pulled　the　two　halves　of　the　window　down　and　eased　out　on　the　sill。　I　swung　half　of　me　over　to　the　next　sill；　holding　on　to　the　frame　of　the　open　window。　I　could　just　reach　to　push　the　next　window　down；　if　it　was　unlocked。　It　wasn't　unlocked。　I　got　my　foot　over　there　and　kicked　the　glass　over　the　catch。　It　made　a　noise　that　ought　to　have　been　heard　in　Reno。　I　wrapped　the　towel　around　my　left　hand　and　reached　in　to　turn　the　catch。　Down　on　the　street　a　car　went　by；　but　nobody　yelled　at　me。
　　I　pushed　the　broken　window　down　and　climbed　across　to　the　other　sif