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going to get it," he said, "plenty." his voice was low and flat and menacing. "I told you to shove
off. Shove off."
Spade waited until a bespectacled pudgy man and a thin-legged blonde girl had passed
out of hearing. Then he chuckled and said: "that would go over big back on seventh avenue. But
you're not in romeville now. You're in my burg." he inhaled cigarette-smoke and blew it out in a
long pale cloud. "Well, where is he?"
The boy spoke two words, the first a short guttural verb, the second "you."
"People hose teeth talking like that." spade's voice was still amiable though his face had
become wooden. "If you want to hang around you'll be polite."
The boy repeated his two words.
Spade dropped his cigarette into a tall stone jar beside the divan and with a lifted hand
caught the attention of a man who had been standing at an end of the cigar-stand for several
minutes. The man nodded and came towards them. He was a middle-aged man of medium
height, round and sallow of face, compactly built, tidily dressed in dark clothes.
"Hello, sam," he said as he came up.
"Hello, luke."
They shook hands and luke said: "say, that's too bad about miles."
"Uh-huh, a bad break." spade jerked his head to indicate the boy on the divan beside him.
"What do you let these cheap gunmen hang out in your lobby for, with their tools bulging their
clothes?"
"Yes?" luke examined the boy with crafty brown eyes set in a suddenly hard face. "What
do you want here?" he asked.
The boy stood up. Spade stood up. The boy looked at the two men, at their neckties, from
one to the other. Luke's necktie was black. The boy looked like a schoolboy standing in front of
them.
Luke said: "well, if you don't want anything, beat it, and don't come back."
The boy said, "i won't forget you guys," and went out.
They watched him go out. Spade took off his hat and wiped his damp forehead with a
handkerchief.
The hotel-detective asked: "what is it?"
"Damned if I know," spade replied. "I just happened to spot him. Know anything about
joel cairo--six-thirty-five?"
"Oh, that one!" the hotel-detective leered.
"How long's he been here?"
"Four days. This is the fifth."
"What about him?"
"Search me, sam. I got nothing against him but his looks."
"Find out if he came in last night?"
"Try to," the hotel-detective promised and went away. Spade sat on the divan until he
returned. "No," luke reported, "he didn't sleep in his room. What is it?"
"Nothing."
"Come clean. You know I'll keep my clam shut, but if there's anything wrong we ought to
know about it so's we can collect our bill."
"Nothing hike that," spade assured him. "As a matter of fact, I'm doing a little work for
him. I'd tell you if he was wrong."
"You'd better. Want me to kind of keep an eye on him?"
"Thanks, luke. It wouldn't hurt. You can't know too much about the men you're working
for these days."
It was twenty-one minutes past eleven by the clock over the elevator doors when joel
cairo came in from the street. His forehead was bandaged. His clothes had the limp unfreshness
of too many hours' consecutive wear. His face was pasty, with sagging mouth and eyelids.
Spade met him in front of the desk. "Good morning," spade said easily.
Cairo drew his tired body up straight and the drooping lines of his face tightened. "Good
morning," he responded without enthusiasm.
There was a pause.
Spade said: "let's go some place where we can talk."
Cairo raised his chin. "Please excuse me," he said. "Our conversations in private have not
been such that I am anxious to continue them. Pardon my speaking bluntly, but it is the truth."
"You mean last night?" spade made an impatient gesture with head and hands. "What in
hell else could I do? I thought you'd see that. If you pick a fight with her, or let her pick one with
you, I've got to throw in with her. I don't know where that damned bird is. You don't. She does.
How in hell are we going to get it if I don't play along with her?"
Cairo hesitated, said dubiously: "you have always, I must say, a smooth explanation
ready."
Spade scowled. "What do you want me to do? Learn to stutter? Well, we can talk over
here." he led the way to the divan. When they were seated he asked: "dundy take you down to the
hall?"
"Yes."
"How long did they work on you?"
"Until a very little while ago, and very much against my will." pain and indignation were
mixed in cairo's face and voice. "I shall certainly take the matter up with the consulate general of
greece and with an attorney."
"Go ahead, and see what it gets you. What did you let the police shake out of you?"
There was prim satisfaction in cairo's smile. "Not a single thing. I adhered to the course
you indicated earlier in your rooms." his smile went away. "Though I certainly wished you had
devised a more reasonable story. I felt decidedly ridiculous repeating it."
Spade grinned mockingly. "Sure," he said, "but its goofiness is what makes it good. You
sure you didn't give them anything?"
"You may rely upon it, mr. spade, I did not."
Spade drummed with his fingers on the leather seat between them. "You'll be hearing
from dundy again. Stay dummied-up on him and you'll be all right. Don't worry about the story's
goofiness. A sensible one would've had us all in the cooler." he rose to his feet. "You'll want
sleep if you've been standing up under a police-storm all night. Sec you later."
Effie perine was saying, "no, not yet," into the telephone when spade entered his outer
office. She looked around at him and her lips shaped a silent word: "iva." he shook his head.
"Yes, I'll have him call you as soon as he comes in," she said aloud and replaced the receiver on
its prong. "That's the third time she's called up this morning," she told spade.
He made an impatient growling noise.
The girl moved her brown eyes to indicate the inner office. "Your miss o'shaughnessy's in
there. She's been waiting since a few minutes after nine."
Spade nodded as if he had expected that and asked: "what else?"
"Sergeant polhaus called up. He didn't leave any message."
"Get him for me."
"And g. called up."
Spade's eyes brightened. He asked: "who?"
"G. That's what he said." her air of personal indifference to the subject was flawless.
"When I told him you weren't in he said: 'when he comes in, will you please tell him that g., who
got his message, phoned and will phone again?'."
Spade worked his lips together as if tasting something he liked. "Thanks, darling," he
said. "See if you can get Tom Polhaus." he opened the inner door and went into his private office,
pulling the door to behind him.
Brigid O'Shaughnessy, dressed as on her first visit to the office, rose from a chair beside
his desk and came quickly towards him. "Somebody has been in my apartment," she exclaimed.
"It is all upside-down, every which way."
He seemed moderately surprised. "Anything taken?"
"I don't think so. I don't know. I was afraid to stay. I changed as fast as I could and came
down here. Oh, you must've let that boy follow you there!"
Spade shook his head. "No, angel." he took an early copy of an afternoon paper from his
pocket, opened it, and showed her a quarter-column headed scream routs burglar. A young
woman named caroline beale, who lived alone in a sutter street apartment, had been awakened at
four that morning by the sound of somebody moving in her bedroom. She had screamed. The
mover had run away. Two other women who lived alone in the same building had discovered, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]