raymondchandler.thehighwindow-第25部分

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　 He　turned　his　head　very　slowly　and　looked　up　the　side　of　the　car。　Over　his　head　on　a　big　metal　ring　a　key　was　hanging。　A　pass…key。　Pop　Grandy　turned　his　head　back　to　normal　position；　stood　up　off　his　stool　and　said：　〃Right　now　I　gotta　go　to　the　can。〃
　 He　went。　When　the　door　had　closed　behind　him　I　took　the　key　off　the　cage　wall　and　went　back　along　to　the　office　of　H。　R。　Teager；　unlocked　it　and　went　in。
　 Inside　was　a　small　windowless　anteroom　on　the　furnishings　of　which　a　great　deal　of　expense　had　been　spared。　Two　chairs；　a　smoking　stand　from　a　cut　rate　drugstore；　a　standing　lamp　from　the　basement　of　some　borax　emporium；　a　flat　stained　wood　table　with　some　old　picture　magazines　on　it。　The　door　closed　behind　me　on　the　door　closer　and　the　place　went　dark　except　for　what　little　light　e　through　the　pebbled　glass　panel。　I　pulled　the　chain　switch　of　the　lamp　and　went　over　to　the　inner　door　in　a　wall　that　cut　across　the　room。　It　was　marked：　H。R。Teager。　Private。　It　was　not　locked。
　 Inside　it　there　was　a　square　office　with　two　uncurtained　east　windows　and　very　dusty　sills。　There　was　a　swivel　chair　and　two　straight　chairs；　both　plain　hard　stained　wood；　and　there　was　a　squarish　flat…topped　desk。　There　was　nothing　on　the　top　of　it　except　an　old　blotter　and　a　cheap　pen　set　and　a　round　glass　ash　tray　with　cigar　ash　in　it。　The　drawers　of　the　desk　contained　some　dusty　paper　linings；　a　few　wire　clips；　rubber　bands；　worn　down　pencils；　pens；　rusty　pen　points；　used　blotters；　four　uncancelled　two…cent　stamps；　and　some　printed　letterheads；　envelopes　and　bill　forms。
　 The　wire　paper　basket　was　full　of　junk。　I　almost　wasted　ten　minutes　going　through　it　rather　carefully。　At　the　end　of　that　time　I　knew　what　I　was　pretty　sure　of　already：　that　H。R。　Teager　carried　on　a　small　business　as　a　dental　technician　doing　laboratory　work　for　a　number　of　dentists　in　unprosperous　sections　of　the　city；　the　kind　of　dentists　who　have　shabby　offices　on　second　floor　walk…ups　over　stores；　who　lack　both　the　skill　and　the　equipment　to　do　their　own　laboratory　work；　and　who　like　to　send　it　out　to　men　like　themselves；　rather　than　to　the　big　efficient　hard…boiled　laboratories　who　wouldn't　give　them　any　credit。
　 I　did　find　one　thing。　Teager's　home　address　at　1354B　Toberman　Street　on　the　receipted　part　of　a　gas　bill。
　 I　straightened　up；　dumped　the　stuff　back　into　the　basket　and　went　over　to　the　wooden　door　marked　Laboratory。　It　had　a　new　Yale　lock　on　it　and　the　pass…key　didn't　fit　it。　That　was　that。　I　switched　off　the　lamp　in　the　outer　office　and　left。
　 The　elevator　was　downstairs　again。　I　rang　for　it　and　when　it　came　up　I　sidled　in　around　Pop　Grandy；　hiding　the　key；　and　hung　it　up　over　his　head。　The　ring　tinkled　against　the　cage。　He　grinned。
　 〃He's　gone；〃　I　said。　〃Must　have　left　last　night。　Must　have　been　carrying　a　lot　of　stuff。　His　desk　is　cleaned　out。〃
　 Pop　Grandy　nodded。　〃Carried　two　suitcases。　I　wouldn't　notice　that；　though。　Most　always　does　carry　a　suitcase。　I　figure　he　picks　up　and　delivers　his　work。〃
　 〃Work　such　as　what？〃　I　asked　as　the　car　growled　down。　Just　to　be　saying　something。
　 〃Such　as　makin'　teeth　that　don't　fit；〃　Pop　Grandy　said。　〃For　poor　old　bastards　like　me。〃
　 〃You　wouldn't　notice；〃　I　said；　as　the　doors　struggled　open　on　the　lobby。　〃You　wouldn't　notice　the　color　of　a　hummingbird's　eye　at　fifty　feet。　Not　much　you　wouldn't。〃
　 He　grinned。　〃What's　he　done？〃
　 〃I'm　going　over　to　his　house　and　find　out；〃　I　said。　〃I　think　most　likely　he's　taken　a　cruise　to　nowhere。〃
　 〃I'd　shift　places　with　him；〃　Pop　Grandy　said。　〃Even　if　he　only　got　to　Frisco　and　got　pinched　there；　I'd　shift　places　with　him。〃
　
　
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　 Toberman　Street。　A　wide　dusty　street；　off　Pico。　No。　1854B　was　an　upstairs　flat；　south；　in　a　yellow　and　white　frame　building。　The　entrance　door　was　on　the　porch；　beside　another　marked　1352B。　The　entrances　to　the　downstairs　flats　were　at　right　angles；　facing　each　other　across　the　width　of　the　porch。　I　kept　on　ringing　the　bell；　even　after　I　was　sure　that　nobody　would　answer　it。　In　a　neighborhood　like　that　there　is　always　an　expert　window…peeker。
　 Sure　enough　the　door　of　1354A　was　pulled　open　and　a　small　bright…eyed　woman　looked　out　at　me。　Her　dark　hair　had　been　washed　and　waved　and　was　an　intricate　mass　of　bobby　pins。
　 〃You　want　Mrs。　Teager？〃　she　shrilled。
　 〃Mr。　or　Mrs。〃
　 〃They　gone　away　last　night　on　their　vacation。　They　loaded　up　and　gone　away　late。　They　had　me　stop　the　milk　and　the　paper。　They　didn't　have　much　time。　Kind　of　sudden；　it　was。〃
　 〃Thanks。　What　kind　of　car　do　they　drive？〃
　 The　heartrending　dialogue　of　some　love　serial　came　out　of　the　room　behind　her　and　hit　me　in　the　face　like　a　wet　dishtowel。
　 The　bright…eyed　woman　said：　〃You　a　friend　of　theirs？〃　In　her　voice；　suspicion　was　as　thick　as　the　ham　in　her　radio。
　 〃Never　mind；〃　I　said　in　a　tough　voice。　〃All　we　want　is　our　money。　Lots　of　ways　to　find　out　what　car　they　were　driving。〃
　 The　woman　cocked　her　head；　listening。　〃That's　Beula　May；〃　she　told　me　with　a　sad　smile。　〃She　won't　go　to　the　dance　with　Doctor　Myers。　I　was　scared　she　wouldn't。〃
　 〃Aw　hell；〃　I　said；　and　went　back　to　my　car　and　drove　on　home　to　Hollywood。
　 The　office　was　empty。　I　unlocked　my　inner　room　and　threw　the　windows　up　and　sat　down。
　 Another　day　drawing　to　its　end；　the　air　dull　and　tired；　the　heavy　growl　of　homing　traffic　on　the　boulevard；　and　Marlowe　in　his　office　nibbling　a　drink　and　sorting　the　day's　mail。　Four　ads；　two　bills；　a　handsome　colored　postcard　from　a　hotel　in　Santa　Rosa　where　I　had　stayed　for　four　days　last　year；　working　on　a　case；　a　long；　badly　typed　letter　from　a　man　named　Peabody　in　Sausalito；　the　general　and　slightly　cloudly　drift　of　which　was　that　a　sample　of　the　handwriting　of　a　suspected　person　would；　when　exposed　to　the　searching　Peabody　examination；　reveal　the　inner　emotional　characteristics　of　the　individual；　classified　according　to　both　the　Freudian　and　Jung　systems。
　 There　was　a　stamped　addressed　envelope　inside。　As　I　tore　the　stamp　off　and　threw　the　letter　and　envelope　away　I　had　a　vision　of　a　pathetic　old　rooster　in　long　hair；　black　felt　hat　and　black　bow　tie；　rocking　on　a　rickety　porch　in　front　of　a　lettered　window；　with　the　smell　of　ham　hocks　and　cabbage　ing　out　of　the　door　at　his　elbow。
　 I　sighed；　retrieved　the　envelope；　wrote　its　name　and　address　on　a　fresh　one；　folded　a　dollar　bill　into　a　sheet　of　paper　and　wrote　on　it：　〃This　is　positively　the　last　contribution。〃　I　signed　my　name；　sealed　the　envelope；　stuck　a　stamp　on　it　and　poured　another　drink。
　 I　filled　and　lit　my　pipe　and　sat　there　smoking。　Nobody　came　in；　nobody　called；　nothing　happened；　nobody　cared　whether　I　died　or　went　to　El　Paso。
　 Little　by　little　the　roar　of　the　traffic　quieted　down。　The　sky　lost　its　glare。　Over　in　the　west　it　would　be　red。　An　early　neon　light　showed　a　block　away；　diagonally　over　roofs。　The　ventilator　churned　dully　in　the　wall　of　the　coffee　shop　down　in　the　alley。　A　truck　filled　and　backed　and　growled　its　way　out　on　to　the　boulevard。
　 Finally　the　telephone　rang。　I　answered　it　and　the　voice　said：　〃Mr。　Marlowe？　This　is　Mr。　Shaw。　At　the　Bristol。〃
　 〃Yes；　Mr。　Shaw。　How　are　you？〃
　 〃I'm　very　well　thanks；　Mr。　Marlowe。　I　hope　you　are　the　same。　There's　a　young　lady　here　asking　to　be　let　into　your　apartment。　I　don't　know　why。〃
　 〃Me　neither；　Mr。　Shaw。　I　didn't　order　anything　like　that。　Does　she　give　a　name？〃
　 〃Oh　yes。　Quite。　Her　name　is　Davis。　Miss　Merle　Davis。　She　iswhat　shall　I　say？quite　verging　on　the　hysterical。〃
　 〃Let　her　in；〃　I　said；　rapidly。　〃I'll　be　there　in　ten　minutes。　She's　the　secretary　of　a　client。　It's　a　business　matter　entirely。〃
　 〃Quite。　Oh　yes。　Shall　Ierremain　with　her？〃
　 〃Whatever　you　think；〃　I　said　and　hung　up。
　 Passing　the　open　door　of　the　wash　cabinet　I　saw　a　stiff　excited　face　in　the　glass。
　
　
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　 As　I　turned　the　key　in　my　door　and　opened　it　Shaw　was　already　standing　up　from　the　davenport。　He　was　a　tall　man　with　glasses　and　a　high　domed　bald　head　that　made　his　ears　look　as　if　they　had　slipped　down　on　his　head。　He　had　the　fixed　smile　of　polite　idiocy　on　his　face。
　 The　girl　sat　in　my　easy　chair　behind　the　chess　table。　She　wasn't　doing　anything；　just　sitting　there。
　 〃Ah；　there　you　are；　Mr。　Marlowe；〃　Shaw　chirped。　〃Yes。　Quite。　Miss　Davis　and　I　have　been　having　such　an　interesting　little　conversation。　I　was　telling　her　I　originally　came　from　England。　She　hasn'tertold　me　where　she　came　from。〃　He　was　halfway　to　the　door　saying　this。
　 〃Very　kind　of　you；　Mr。　Shaw；〃　I　said。
　 〃Not　at　all；〃　he　chirped。　〃Not　at　all。　I'll　just　run　along　now。　My　dinner；　possibly〃
　 〃It's　very　nice　of　you；〃　I　said；　〃I　appreciate　it。〃
　 He　nodded　and　was　gone。　The　unnatural　brightness　of　his　smile　seemed　to　linger　in　the　air　after　the　door　closed；　like　the　smile　of　the　Cheshire　Cat。
　 I　said：　〃Hello；　there。〃
　 She　said：　〃Hello。〃　Her　voice　was　quite　calm；　quite　serious。　She　was　wearing　a　brownish　linen　coat　and　skirt；　a　broadbrimmed　low…crowned　straw　hat　with　a　brown　velvet　band　that　exactly　matched　the　color　of　her　shoes　and　the　leather　trimming　on　the　edges　of　her　linen　envelope　bag。　The　hat　was　tilted　rather　daringly；　for　her。　She　was　not　wearing　her　glasses。
　 Except　for　her　face　she　would　have　looked　all　right。　In　the　first　place　her　eyes　were　quite　mad。　There　was　white　showing　all　around　the　iris　and　they　had　a　sort　of　fixed　look。　When　they　moved　the　movement　was　so　stiff　that　you　could　almost　hear　something　creak。　Her　mouth　was　in　a　tight　line　at　the　corners；　but　the　middle　part　of　her　upper　lip　kept　lifting　off　her　teeth；　upwards　and　outwards　as　if　fine　threads　attached　to　the　edge　of　the　lip　were　pulling　it。　It　would　go　up　so　far　that　it　didn't　seem　possible；　and　then　the　entire　lower　part　of　her　face　would　go　into　a　spasm　and　when　the　spasm　was　over　her　mouth　would　be　tight　shut；　and　then　the　process　would　slowly　start　all　over　again。　In　addition　to　this　there　was　something　wrong　with　her　neck；　so　that　very　slowly　her　head　was　drawn　around　to　the　left　about　forty…five　degrees。　It　would　stop　there；　her　neck　would　twitch；　and　her　head　would　slide　back　the　way　it　had　e。
　 The　bination　of　these　two　movements；　taken　with　the　immobility　of　her　body；　the　tight…clasped　hands　in　her　lap；　and　the　fixed　stare　of　her　eyes；　was　enough　to　start　anybody's　nerves　backfiring。
　 There　was　a　can　of　tobacco　on　the　desk；　between　which　and　her　chair　was　the　chess　table　with　the　chessmen　in　their　box。　I　got　the　pipe　out　of　my　pocket　and　went　over　to　fill　it　at　the　can　of　tobacco。　That　put　me　just　on　the　other　side　of　the　chess　table　from　her。　Her　bag　was　lying　on　the　edge　of　the　table；　in　front　of　her　and　a　little　to　one　side。　She　jumped　a　little　when　I　went　over　there；　but　after　that　she　was　just　like　before。　She　even　made　an　effort　to　smile。
　 I　filled　the　pipe　and　struck　a　paper　match　and　lit　it　and　stood　there　holding　the　match　after　I　had　blown　it　out。
　 〃You're　not　wearing　your　glasses；〃　I　said。
　 She　spoke。　Her　voice　was　quiet；　posed。　〃Oh；　I　only　wear　them　around　the　house　and　for　reading。　They're　in　my　bag。〃
　 〃You're　in　the　house　now；〃　I　said。　〃You　ought　to　be　wearing　them。〃
　 I　reached　casually　for　the　bag。　She　didn't　move。　She　didn't　watch　my　hands。　Her　eyes　were　on　my　face。　I　turned　my　body　a　little