raymondchandler.farewellmylovely-第2部分

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　〃Some　guys；〃　the　big　man　said；　〃has　got　wrong　ideas　about　when　to　get　tough。〃　He　turned　to　me。　〃Yeah；〃　he　said。　〃Let's　you　and　me　nibble　one。〃
　We　went　over　to　the　bar。　The　customers；　by　ones　and　twos　and　threes；　became　quiet　shadows　that　drifted　soundless　across　the　floor；　soundless　through　the　doors　at　the　head　of　the　stairs。　Soundless　as　shadows　on　grass。　They　didn't　even　let　the　doors　swing。
We　leaned　against　the　bar。　〃Whiskey　sour；〃　the　big　man　said。　〃Call　yours。〃
〃Whiskey　sour；〃　I　said。
We　had　whiskey　sours。
　The　big　man　licked　his　whiskey　sour　impassively　down　the　side　of　the　thick　squat　glass。　He　stared　solemnly　at　the　barman；　a　thin；　worried…looking　Negro　in　a　white　coat　who　moved　as　if　his　feet　hurt　him。
　〃You　know　where　Velma　is？〃
　Velma　you　says？〃　the　barman　whined。　〃I　ain't　seen　her　'round　heah　lately。　Not　right　lately；　nossuh。〃
　〃How　long　you　been　here？〃
　〃Let's　see；〃　the　barman　put　his　towel　down　and　wrinkled　his　forehead　and　started　to　count　on　his　fingers。　〃Bout　ten　months；　I　reckon。　'Bout　a　yeah。　'Bout…〃
　〃Make　your　mind　up；〃　the　big　man　said。
　The　barman　goggled　and　his　Adam's　apple　flopped　around　like　a　headless　chicken。
　〃How　long's　this　coop　been　a　dinge　joint？〃　the　big　man　demanded　gruffly。
　〃Says　which？〃
　The　big　man　made　a　fist　into　which　his　whiskey　sour　glass　melted　almost　out　of　sight。
　〃Five　years　anyway；〃　I　said。　〃This　fellow　wouldn't　know　anything　about　a　white　girl　named　Velma。　Nobody　here　would。〃
　The　big　man　looked　at　me　as　if　I　had　just　hatched　out。　His　whiskey　sour　hadn't　seemed　to　improve　his　temper。
　〃Who　the　hell　asked　you　to　stick　your　face　in？〃　he　asked　me。
　I　smiled。　I　made　it　a　big　warm　friendly　smile。　〃I'm　the　fellow　that　came　in　with　you。　Remember？〃
　He　grinned　back　then；　a　flat　white　grin　without　meaning。　〃Whiskey　sour；〃　he　told　the　barman。　〃Shake　them　fleas　outa　your　pants。　Service。〃
　The　barman　scuttled　around；　rolling　the　whites　of　his　eyes。　I　put　my　back　against　the　bar　and　looked　at　the　room。　It　was　now　empty；　save　for　the　barman；　the　big　man　and　myself；　and　the　bouncer　crushed　over　against　the　wall。　The　bouncer　was　moving。　He　was　moving　slowly　as　if　with　great　pain　and　effort。　He　was　crawling　softly　along　the　baseboard　like　a　fly　with　one　wing。　He　was　moving　behind　the　tables；　wearily；　a　man　suddenly　old；　suddenly　disillusioned。　I　watched　him　move。　The　barman　put　down　two　more　whiskey　sours。　I　turned　to　the　bar。　The　big　man　glanced　casually　over　at　the　crawling　bouncer　and　then　paid　no　further　attention　to　him。
　〃There　ain't　nothing　left　of　the　joint；〃　he　plained。　〃They　was　a　little　stage　and　band　and　cute　little　rooms　where　a　guy　could　have　fun。　Velma　did　some　warbling。　A　redhead　she　was。　Cute　as　lace　pants。　We　was　to　of　been　married　when　they　hung　the　frame　on　me。〃
I　took　my　second　whiskey　sour。　I　was　beginning　to　have　enough　of　the　adventure。　〃What　frame？〃　I　asked。
〃Where　you　figure　I　been　them　eight　years　I　said　about？〃
〃Catching　butterflies。〃
　He　prodded　his　chest　with　a　forefinger　like　a　banana。　〃In　the　caboose。　Malloy　is　the　name。　They　call　me　Moose　Malloy；　on　account　of　I'm　large。　The　Great　Bend　bank　job。　Forty　grand。　Solo　job。　Ain't　that　something？〃
　〃You　going　to　spend　it　now？〃
　He　gave　me　a　sharp　look。　There　was　a　noise　behind　us。　The　bouncer　was　on　his　feet　again；　weaving　a　little。　He　had　his　hand　on　the　knob　of　a　dark　door　over　behind　the　crap　table。　He　got　the　door　open；　half　fell　through。　The　door　clattered　shut。　A　lock　clicked。
　〃Where's　that　go？〃　Moose　Malloy　demanded。
　The　barman's　eyes　floated　in　his　head；　focused　with　difficulty　on　the　door　through　which　the　bouncer　had　stumbled。
　〃Tha…tha's　Mistah　Montgomery's　office；　suh。　He's　the　boss。　He's　got　his　office　back　there。〃
　〃He　might　know；〃　the　big　man　said。　He　drank　his　drink　at　a　gulp。　〃He　better　not　crack　wise　neither。　Two　more　of　the　same。〃
　He　crossed　the　room　slowly；　lightfooted；　without　a　care　in　the　world。　His　enormous　back　hid　the　door。　It　was　locked。　He　shook　it　and　a　piece　of　the　panel　flew　off　to　one　side。　He　went　through　and　shut　the　door　behind　him。
　There　was　silence。　I　looked　at　the　barman。　The　barman　looked　at　me。　His　eyes　became　thoughtful。　He　polished　the　counter　and　sighed　and　leaned　down　with　his　right　ann。
　I　reached　across　the　counter　and　took　hold　of　the　arm。　It　was　thin；　brittle。　I　held　it　and　smiled　at　him。
　〃What　you　got　down　there；　bo？〃
　He　licked　his　lips。　He　leaned　on　my　arm；　and　said　nothing。　Grayness　invaded　his　shining　face。
　〃This　guy　is　tough；〃　I　said。　〃And　he's　liable　to　go　mean。　Drinks　do　that　to　him。　He's　looking　for　a　girl　he　used　to　know。　This　place　used　to　be　a　white　establishment。　Get　the　idea？〃
　The　barman　licked　his　lips
　〃He's　been　away　a　long　time；〃　I　said。　〃Eight　years。　He　doesn't　seem　to　realize　how　long　that　is；　although　I'd　expect　him　to　think　it　a　life　time。　He　thinks　the　people　here　should　know　where　his　girl　is。　Get　the　idea？〃
　The　barman　said　slowly：　〃I　thought　you　was　with　him。〃
　〃I　couldn't　help　myself。　He　asked　me　a　question　down　below　and　then　dragged　me　up。　I　never　saw　him　before。　But　I　didn't　feel　like　being　thrown　over　any　houses。　What　you　got　down　there？〃
　〃Got　me　a　sawed…off；〃　the　barman　said。
　〃Tsk。　That's　illegal；〃　I　whispered。　〃Listen；　you　and　I　are　together。　Got　anything　else？〃
　〃Got　me　a　gat；〃　the　barman　said。　〃In　a　cigar　box。　Leggo　my　arm。〃
　〃That's　fine；〃　I　said。　〃Now　move　along　a　bit。　Easy　now。　Sideways。　This　isn't　the　time　to　pull　the　artillery。〃
　〃Says　you；〃　the　barman　sneered；　putting　his　tired　weight　against　my　arm。　〃Says…〃
　He　stopped。　His　eyes　rolled。　His　head　jerked。
　There　was　a　dull　flat　sound　at　the　back　of　the　place；　behind　the　closed　door　beyond　the　crap　table。　It　might　have　been　a　slammed　door。　I　didn't　think　it　was。　The　barman　didn't　think　so　either。
　The　barman　froze。　His　mouth　drooled。　I　listened。　No　other　sound。　I　started　quickly　for　the　end　of　the　counter。　I　had　listened　too　long。
　The　door　at　the　back　opened　with　a　bang　and　Moose　Malloy　came　through　it　with　a　smooth　heavy　lunge　and　stopped　dead；　his　feet　planted　and　a　wide　pale　grin　on　his　face。
　A　Colt　Army　。45　looked　like　a　toy　pistol　in　his　hand。
　〃Don't　nobody　try　to　fancy　pants；〃　he　said　cozily。　〃Freeze　the　mitts　on　the　bar。〃
　The　barman　and　I　put　our　hands　on　the　bar。
　Moose　Malloy　looked　the　room　over　with　a　raking　glance。　His　grin　was　taut；　nailed　on。　He　shifted　his　feet　and　moved　silently　across　the　room。　He　looked　like　a　man　who　could　take　a　bank　single…handed…even　in　those　clothes。
　He　came　to　the　bar。　〃Rise　up；　nigger；〃　he　said　softly。　The　barman　put　his　hands　high　in　the　air。　The　big　man　stepped　to　my　back　and　prowled　me　over　carefully　with　his　left　hand。　His　breath　was　hot　on　my　neck。　It　went　away。
　〃Mister　Montgomery　didn't　know　where　Velma　was　neither；〃　he　said。　〃He　tried　to　tell　me…with　this。〃　His　hard　hand　patted　the　gun。　I　turned　slowly　and　looked　at　him。　〃Yeah；〃　he　said。　〃You'll　know　me。　You　ain't　forgetting　me；　pal。　Just　tell　them　johns　not　to　get　careless　is　all。〃　He　waggled　the　gun。　〃Well　so　long；　punks。　I　gotta　catch　a　street　car。〃
He　started　towards　the　head　of　the　stairs。
〃You　didn't　pay　for　the　drinks；〃　I　said。
He　stopped　and　looked　at　me　carefully。
〃Maybe　you　got　something　there；〃　he　said；　〃but　I　wouldn't　squeeze　it　too　hard。〃
He　moved　on；　slipped　through　the　double　doors；　and　his　steps　sounded　remotely　going　down　the　stairs。
　The　barman　stooped。　I　jumped　around　behind　the　counter　and　jostled　him　out　of　the　way。　A　sawed…off　shotgun　lay　under　a　towel　on　a　shelf　under　the　bar。　Beside　it　was　a　cigar　box。　In　the　cigar　box　was　a　。38　automatic。　I　took　both　of　them。　The　barman　pressed　back　against　the　tier　of　glasses　behind　the　bar。
　I　went　back　around　the　end　of　the　bar　and　across　the　room　to　the　gaping　door　behind　the　crap　table。　There　was　a　hallway　behind　it；　L…shaped；　almost　lightless。　The　bouncer　lay　sprawled　on　its　floor　unconscious；　with　a　knife　in　his　hand。　I　leaned　down　and　pulled　the　knife　loose　and　threw　it　down　a　back　stairway。　The　bouncer　breathed　stertorously　and　his　hand　was　limp。
　I　stepped　over　him　and　opened　a　door　marked　〃Office〃　in　flaked　black　paint。
　There　was　a　small　scarred　desk　close　to　a　partly　boarded…up　window。　The　torso　of　a　man　was　bolt　upright　in　the　chair。　The　chair　had　a　high　back　which　just　reached　to　the　nape　of　the　man's　neck。　His　head　was　folded　back　over　the　high　back　of　the　chair　so　that　his　nose　pointed　at　the　boarded…up　window。　Just　folded；　like　a　handkerchief　or　a　hinge。
　A　drawer　of　the　desk　was　open　at　the　man's　right。　Inside　was　a　newspaper　with　a　smear　of　oil　in　the　middle。　The　gun　would　have　e　from　there。　It　had　probably　seemed　like　a　good　idea　at　the　time；　but　the　position　of　Mr。　Montgomery's　head　proved　that　the　idea　had　been　wrong。
　There　was　a　telephone　on　the　desk。　I　laid　the　sawed…off　shotgun　down　and　went　over　to　lock　the　door　before　I　called　the　police。　I　felt　safer　that　way　and　Mr。　Montgomery　didn't　seem　to　mind。
　When　the　prowl　car　boys　stamped　up　the　stairs；　the　bouncer　and　the　barman　had　disappeared　and　I　had　the　place　to　myself。
　
　3
　A　man　named　Nulty　got　the　case；　a　lean…jawed　sourpuss　with　long　yellow　hands　which　he　kept　folded　over　his　kneecaps　most　of　the　time　he　talked　to　me。　He　was　a　detective…lieutenant　attached　to　the　77th　Street　Division　and　we　talked　in　a　bare　room　with　two　small　desks　against　opposite　walls　and　room　to　move　between　them；　if　two　people　didn't　try　it　at　once。　Dirty　brown　linoleum　covered　the　floor　and　the　smell　of　old　cigar　butts　hung　in　the　air。　Nulty's　shirt　was　frayed　and　his　coat　sleeves　had　been　turned　in　at　the　cuffs。　He　looked　poor　enough　to　be　honest；　but　he　didn't　look　like　a　man　who　could　deal　with　Moose　Malloy。
　He　lit　half　of　a　cigar　and　threw　the　match　on　the　floor；　where　a　lot　of　pany　was　waiting　for　it。　His　voice　said　bitterly：
　〃Shines。　Another　shine　killing。　That's　what　I　rate　after　eighteen　years　in　this　man's　police　department。　No　pix；　no　space；　not　even　four　lines　in　the　want…ad　section。〃
　I　didn't　say　anything。　He　picked　my　card　up　and　read　it　again　and　threw　it　down。
　〃Philip　Marlowe；　Private　Investigator。　One　of　those　guys；　huh？　Jesus；　you　look　tough　enough。　What　was　you　doing　all　that　time？〃
〃All　what　time？〃
〃All　th