raymondchandler.thehighwindow-第30节

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　 〃Any　of　them　up　there　now？〃
　 He　shook　his　head。　His　face　was　like　a　vacant　lot。　〃I　ain't　told　them　anything；〃　he　said。　〃Too　late　to　mention　it　now。　They'd　eat　my　ass　off。〃
　 I　said：　〃Why？〃
　 〃Why　I　ain't　told　them？　The　hell　with　them。　You　talked　to　me　civil。　Damn　few　people　do　that。　Hell；　I　know　you　didn't　have　nothing　to　do　with　that　killing。〃
　 〃I　played　you　wrong；〃　I　said。　〃Very　wrong。〃　I　got　a　card　out　and　gave　it　to　him。　He　fished　a　pair　of　metal…framed　glasses　out　of　his　pocket；　perched　them　on　his　nose　and　held　the　card　a　foot　away　from　them。　He　read　it　slowly；　moving　his　lips；　looked　at　me　over　the　glasses；　handed　me　back　the　card。
　 〃Better　keep　it；〃　he　said。　〃Case　I　get　careless　and　drop　it。　Mighty　interestin'　life　yours；　I　guess。〃
　 〃Yes　and　no。　What　was　the　name？〃
　 〃Grandy。　Just　call　me　Pop。　Who　killed　him？〃
　 〃I　don't　know。　Did　you　notice　anybody　going　up　there　or　ing　downanybody　that　seemed　out　of　place　in　this　building；　or　strange　to　you？〃
　 〃I　don't　notice　much；〃　he　said。　〃I　just　happened　to　notice　you。〃
　 〃A　tall　blond；　for　instance；　or　a　tall　slender　man　with　sideburns；　about　thirty…five　years　old。〃
　 〃Nope。〃
　 〃Everybody　going　up　or　down　about　then　would　ride　in　your　car。〃
　 He　nodded　his　worn　head。　〃Less　they　used　the　fire　stairs。　They　e　out　in　the　alley；　bar…lock　door。　Party　would　have　to　e　in　this　way；　but　there's　stairs　back　of　the　elevator　to　the　second　floor。　From　there　they　can　get　to　the　fire　stairs。　Nothing　to　it。〃
　 I　nodded。　〃Mr。　Grandy；　could　you　use　a　five　dollar　billnot　as　a　bribe　in　any　sense；　but　as　a　token　of　esteem　from　a　sincere　friend？〃
　 〃Son；　I　could　use　a　five　dollar　bill　so　rough　Abe　Lincoln's　whiskers　would　be　all　lathered　up　with　sweat。〃
　 I　gave　him　one。　I　looked　at　it　before　I　passed　it　over。　It　was　Lincoln　on　the　five；　all　right。
　 He　tucked　it　small　and　put　it　away　deep　in　his　pocket。　〃That's　right　nice　of　you；〃　he　said。　〃I　hope　to　hell　you　didn't　think　I　was　fishin'。〃
　 I　shook　my　head　and　went　along　the　corridor；　reading　the　names　again。　Dr。　E。　J。　Blaskowitz；　Chiropractic　Physician。　Dalton　and　Rees；　Typewriting　Service。　L。　Pridview；　Public　Account。　Four　blank　doors。　Moss　Mailing　pany。　Two　more　blank　doors。　H。　R。　Teager；　Dental　Laboratories。　In　the　same　relative　position　as　the　Morningstar　office　two　floors　above；　but　the　rooms　were　cut　up　differently。　Teager　had　only　one　door　and　there　was　more　wall　space　in　between　his　door　and　the　next　one。
　 The　knob　didn't　turn。　I　knocked。　There　was　no　answer。　I　knocked　harder；　with　the　same　result。　I　went　back　to　the　elevator。　It　was　still　at　the　sixth　floor。　Pop　Grandy　watched　me　e　as　if　he　had　never　seen　me　before。
　 〃Know　anything　about　H。　R。　Teager？〃　I　asked　him。
　 He　thought。　〃Heavy…set；　oldish；　sloppy　clothes；　dirty　fingernails；　like　mine。　e　to　think　I　didn't　see　him　in　today。〃
　 〃Do　you　think　the　super　would　let　me　into　his　office　to　look　around？〃
　 〃Pretty　nosey；　the　super　is。　I　wouldn't　remend　it。〃
　 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。