Chapter 4 Chapter 4 Blackbird
Miss Wendley opened the door of Room 1001 in the Crown Apartment.She was wearing a green lace-up crepe dress and had a flushed face; her dark red hair was a little disheveled, in loose curls brushed from left to right over her right temple.
Spade took off his hat and said, "Good morning."
His smile brought a smile to her face too, but the blue eyes were still clouded.She lowered her head and whispered timidly, "Come in, Mr. Spade."
She led him past the open kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom to the cream and red living room.She apologized for the chaos in the room: "It's all a mess, I haven't unpacked yet." She put his hat on the coffee table and sat down on a walnut couch.He sat facing her in an oval-backed satin chair.She looked at her fingers, clasped them together, and said, "Mr. Spade, I have a very, very terrible confession to you." Spade smiled politely, but said nothing.She didn't look up at him either.
"That, what I told you yesterday, all...all are not true." She stammered, raised her head and looked at him with pitiful eyes in fear.
"Oh, that," Spade said lightly, "we didn't take it seriously either."
"That—" In addition to distress and fear, her eyes were filled with confusion.
"We really are your two hundred dollars."
"You mean—" She didn't seem to understand what he was saying.
"I mean, if you've been telling the truth, you've paid too much," he explained mildly. "It doesn't matter if you're not telling the truth."
Her eyes suddenly lit up, she almost stood up, sat down again, straightened her skirt, leaned forward, and asked eagerly: "Then are you still willing to—"
Spade raised a hand to silence her.He frowned, but a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth. "It depends," he said, "and the difficulty is—is your name Wendry or LeBlanc, Miss?"
She blushed and said softly, "The real name is O'Shaughnessy, Bridget O'Shaughnessy."
"Miss O'Shaughnessy, the hard part is that two murders in quick succession"—she flinched—"make a lot of noise, make the police think they can do anything, and make everybody It's hard. It's not—" He paused because she couldn't take it anymore and was just waiting for him to finish.
"Mr. Spade, tell me the truth," her voice was trembling, on the verge of hysteria, her face was haggard, and her eyes were full of despair, "what happened last night—is it my fault?"
Spade shook his head. "No, unless there's something I don't know yet," he said. "You reminded us that Thursby is a dangerous man. Of course, you lied to us about your sister, but that doesn't count, because We didn't believe you either." He shrugged his slanted shoulders, "I don't think it's your fault."
"Thank you," she said softly, shaking her head again, "but I'll keep blaming myself." She put a hand to her throat. "Mr. Archer was so--so alive yesterday afternoon, So gracious, trustworthy, and—"
"Stop it," Spade ordered. "He knows what he's doing. It's a risk in our line of business."
"Is... is he married?"
"It's over, he has a 10,000 yuan insurance, no children, and his wife doesn't love him."
"Oh, please stop!" she whispered.
Spade shrugged again. "That's what it is." He glanced at his watch, moved from his chair to the sofa, and sat next to her.
"There's no time to worry about that now." His voice sounded soft but determined. "There's a whole bunch of cops, ADAs, and reporters out there, running around sniffing around with their noses to the ground. You want me to do what?"
"I want you to help me . something?"
"I don't know yet. I want to meet you first."
"What would they think if...if they knew what I came to you for—the lies?"
"They'll be suspicious. That's why I've been putting them off until I saw you. I figured maybe we wouldn't have to tell them all. We should be able to make up a story to coax them over if we had to."
"You don't think I have anything to do with those... those murders, do you?"
Spade grinned at her and said, "Forgot to ask you that. Is it about you?"
"No."
"Very well. Now what are we going to say to the police?"
She squirmed awkwardly at the end of the couch, her gaze wandering under thick lashes, as if she was trying in vain to avoid meeting his eyes.She looked unusually small and young now, and troubled. "Do they have to know about me?" she asked. "I don't want to die, Mr. Spade. I can't explain it now, but can't you find a way to keep them from finding me? So I don't have to answer." It's their problem. I don't think I can stand cross-examination now. I'd rather die. Mr. Spade, can't you think of a way?"
"Maybe," he said, "but I need to know what the hell is going on."
She knelt at his knees and raised her face to him.Her bloodless face was taut and full of fear, and her hands were clasped on her chest. "I've had a bad day," she cried. "I'm a bad man—more bad than you think—but I'm not all bad. Look at me, Mr. Spade. You know I'm not that bad , can't you? You can see that, can't you? Then can you trust me a little bit? Oh, I'm so all alone, I'm afraid, if you don't help me, I'll never find anyone Help me. I know that if I don't trust you, I have no right to ask you to trust me. I trust you, but I can't tell you. Not now. I will say it later, when I can. I'm afraid , Mr. Spade. I'm afraid to trust you. . . . I don't mean that, I trust you, but - I've trusted Freud in the past, and - I have no one else to turn to, any more No more, Mr. Spade. You can help me. You say you can help me. If I hadn't believed you could protect me, I would have run away today from asking you. If I thought there was anything else Would I kneel like this if anyone could save me? I know it's not right for me to do this, but please be generous, Mr. Spade, and don't argue with me. You are strong, brave, and resourceful. You can Give me some of your strength, courage, and resourcefulness, and it will do. Help me, Mr. Spade, help me. First, I need your help so badly; and second, if you don't help me, Where can I find someone who can help me? Others are powerless even if they want to! Help me. I have no right to ask you to help me blindly, but I still ask. Please be generous, Mr Spade, you can help me, help me!"
Spade, who held his breath for most of the speech, now pursed his lips and let out a long sigh from his lungs, saying, "You don't need anyone's help. You're good. You're good. Mainly Your eyes, I think, and that throbbing in your voice when you say, 'Please be generous, Mr Spade'."
She jumped up.She blushed in pain, but kept her eyes on Spade. "I deserve it," she said, "I asked for it, but—oh, how I want your help! I want your help so much, I need your help so badly. The way I talk is false, but I I didn't tell half a lie." She turned around, her back was no longer so straight, "It's my own fault, now you don't believe me."
Spade's face turned red.He stared down at the floor and muttered, "Now you're not only dangerous, you're dangerous."
Bridget O'Shaughnessy went to the end table, picked up his hat, came back and stood before him with it, not handing it to him, just holding it in his hand for him to take if he wanted to.Her face was pale and thin.Spade looked at his hat and asked, "What happened last night?"
"Floyd came to the hotel at nine o'clock and we went for a walk afterwards. I suggested it so Mr. Archer could see him. We stopped at a restaurant to eat and dance. It was in Gilly Street— I think it was the name. We got back to the hotel about half-past twelve. Floyd parted with me at the door, and I stood in the hotel and saw Mr. Archer follow him down the road."
"Down? You mean toward Market Road?"
"right."
"Do you know what they're doing around Bush Street and Stockton Street, the side where Archer was killed?"
"Is that near where Floyd lived?"
"No, it's about ten blocks from your hotel to where he lives. What did you do after they left?"
"I was asleep. I was going out to breakfast this morning and I saw the headlines in the paper--you know. Then I went over there in Union Square and saw a rental car, so I rented a car and went back to the Pick up luggage at the hotel. I knew I had to move after I found out my room had been searched yesterday. I found this place yesterday afternoon. So I came here and called your office."
"Have you had your room searched at the Hotel San Marco?" he asked.
"Yes, when I went to your office." She bit her lip and said, "I didn't intend to tell you."
"Does that mean I shouldn't ask about it?"
She nodded shyly and moved the hat in her hand.Spade frowned, smiled impatiently and said, "Don't shake that hat in front of me. Didn't I tell you to help you find a way?"
She smiled embarrassedly, put her hat back on the coffee table, and sat down on the sofa beside him again.
"There's no reason I shouldn't trust you blindly, except that I can't help you if I don't have a clue about the whole thing. Like, I need to know what that Floyd Thursby of yours is about. "
"I met him in the Eastern Hemisphere," she said slowly, looking down at one of her fingers, which was drawing the figure 8 back and forth on the couch between them. "We came here from Hong Kong last week. He...he promised to help me. He bullied me to be alone and dependent on him, so he betrayed me."
"What kind of treason law?"
She shook her head and said nothing.Spade frowned impatiently and asked, "Why do you want someone to follow him?"
"I want to know how far he's gone. He won't even let me know where he lives. I want to find out what he's doing, who he's seeing, stuff like that."
"Did Archer kill him?"
She looked up at him in surprise. "Of course it is," she said.
"He had a Luger in a holster over his shoulder. The gun that hit Archer wasn't a Luger."
"He's got a revolver in his coat pocket," she said.
"have you seen?"
"Oh, I see it often. I know he always has a gun there. I didn't see it last night, but I know he must have it in his overcoat."
"What are you doing with so many guns?"
"He lives off of it. There is a story in Hong Kong that he came to the Eastern Hemisphere as a bodyguard for a gambler who was forced to leave the US and then disappeared. It is said that Floyd knew the truth about his disappearance. I don't know if that's true, except that he was always fully armed and slept with a crumpled newspaper around his bed so no one could sneak into his room."
"You picked a good partner."
"Only such a man can help me," she said succinctly, "if he is faithful."
"Yes, if." Spade twisted his lower lip with his thumb and forefinger, looking at her sullenly.The vertical line above the bridge of his nose deepened, and his eyebrows were drawn together. "How bad is your situation?"
"As bad as it gets," she said.
"Personal safety involved?"
"I'm no hero. I don't think there's anything worse than death."
"Is it that serious?"
"It's that serious, as sure as we're sitting here." She shuddered. "Unless you help me."
He took his hands away from his mouth and ran his fingers through his hair.
"I'm not God," he said. "I can't perform miracles out of thin air." He glanced at his watch. "It's getting dark and you haven't given me any useful clues. Who killed Thursby?"
She put a crumpled handkerchief to her mouth and said, "I don't know."
"Is it your enemy, or his?"
"I don't know. His, I hope so, but I'm afraid—I don't know."
"How was he supposed to help you? Why did you bring him here from Hong Kong?"
She looked at him with fearful eyes and shook her head silently.Her face was haggard, and her stubbornness made people feel distressed.Spade stood up, put his hands in his coat pockets, and looked down at her with a scowling face. "It's no use," he said gruffly. "I can't help you. I don't know what you've done. I'm not even sure you know what you want to do."
She bowed her head, crying.With a bestial growl from his throat, he went to the coffee table to get his hat.
"You won't," she begged softly, choking, "you won't go to the police, will you?"
"Going to them?" he cried angrily. "They've been bugging me since four o'clock this morning, God knows how hard it took me to get them off. For what? Just for 'me Can help you' crazy idea. I can't help you. I won't try." He put his hat on his head and pulled it down tight. "Looking for them? I just have to stand still and they'll swarm Come on me. Well, I'll tell them what I know, and you'll take your chances."
She got up from the sofa.Although her knees were still shaking, she stood upright before him, her pale, panic-stricken face raised high, the muscles around her lips and jaw trembling.She said, "You've been very patient. You tried to help me. It's hopeless, and I don't think it will work." She held out her right hand, "Thank you for doing this, I... I have to touch it myself Hit your luck."
Spade let out that beastly growl from his throat again, and sat down on the couch. "How much money do you have?" he asked.
The question startled her.Then she bit her lower lip and replied reluctantly, "I have five hundred dollars left."
"Give me."
She hesitated, looking at him timidly.His eyebrows, mouth, hands, and shoulders all made an angry gesture.She went into the bedroom and soon came out with a bundle of notes in her hand.He took the money, counted it, and said, "There are only four hundred here."
"I've got to save some time," she explained meekly, with one hand on her chest.
"Can't you get some more?"
"no."
"You must have something you can exchange for money." He insisted.
"I have some rings, a little jewelry."
"You'll have to pawn them," he said. "The Remidier's is the fairest, on Rectory and Fifth."
She looked at him imploringly, but his sallow eyes showed an unmoved heart of stone.Slowly she reached one hand into the neckline of her dress and took out a thin roll of bills, which she placed in his waiting hand.He straightened the bills and counted them—four twenty, four ten, and one five.He gave her back the two ten and the five, and put the rest in his pocket.Then he got up and said, "I'll go out and find out what I can do for you. I'll be back with the best news I can get. I'll ring the bell four times, long-short-long-short , so you know it’s me. You don’t have to see me off, I’ll go out by myself.” He turned and left, leaving her standing in the middle of the room, her blue eyes staring blankly at his back.
Spade went into a reception room.A plaque on the door shows that the legendary Mr. Wise of "Meliken & Wise" was working here.The redhead sitting at the switchboard said, "Oh, hello, Mr. Spade." "Hello, dear," he replied, "Is Sid there?" He stood beside her, one hand on her round shoulder, watched her connect an adapter, and said into the microphone, "Mr. Wise, Mr. Spade is here to see you." She looked up at Spede. Ped, "Go in." He thanked her with a squeeze of the shoulder, walked through the reception room into a dimly lit corridor, and down the corridor to a frosted glass door at the end.He opened the door and walked into the office.A small, olive-skinned man sat behind a huge desk covered with bundles of papers.His oval face looked tired and his thin black hair was speckled with dandruff.The little man waved at Spade with the butt of a dead cigar in his hand and said, "Pull up a chair. Miles hit the jackpot last night?" His weary face and rather raspy voice conveyed nothing. emotion. "Well, that's what I'm here for." Spade frowned and cleared his throat. "I think I'll have to send the coroner to hell, Sid. Can I hide in the Behind the words 'the identity and confidentiality of our clients are sacrosanct'?" Sid Wise shrugged his shoulders, curled his lips and said, "What's wrong? An investigation is not a trial. Anyway, you can try it. It's not like you haven't done this outrageous thing before." "I know, but Dundee is a nuisance, and it's a little too much this time. Hold on to your hats, Sid, and we're going to meet some people we need to meet, I don't want to get in trouble." Sid Wise looked at the pile of papers on the desk and complained, but got up and went to the wardrobe by the window. "You bloody bastard," he said, taking his hat off the coat hook. At ten past five in the evening, Spade returned to his office.Effie Palin is sitting at his desk reading Time.Spade sat at the table and asked, "Anything new?" "Not here. You look like a proud cat that swallowed a canary." He grinned contentedly and said: "I think we have a bright future. I've always had an idea that if Miles leaves here and dies outside, we have a chance to develop well. Can you arrange for me to send flowers thing?" "Already delivered." "You are priceless. How is your womanly instinct today?" "Why do you ask?" "What do you think of Wendry?" "I'm on her side." The girl replied without hesitation. "She has too many names," Spade said to himself thoughtfully. "Wendry, LeBlanc, she says her real name is O'Shaughnessy." "I don't care if she uses every name in the phone book. She's a nice girl, you know." "Not necessarily." Spade winked at Effie Palin wearily, and smiled softly, "Anyway, it's good that she came out with seven hundred dollar bills in two days. " Effie Palin sat up straight and said, "Sam, if this girl is in trouble and you don't help, or take the opportunity to blackmail her, I will never forgive you, never respect you again, never in my life. " Spade smiled awkwardly, then frowned.The frown seemed unnatural.He was about to speak when he was interrupted by a sound from the door in the corridor, through which someone entered.Effie Palin got up and went to the outer office.Spade took off his hat and sat down in a chair.The girl came back with a card that said "Mr. Joe Carroll." "This guy is a sissy," she said. "Bring him in, dear," said Spade. Mr. Joe Kylo was of medium height, dark brown, of narrow frame, with black hair slicked back.He looks human.On his dark green cravat was a square ruby surrounded by four small baguette diamonds, sparkling.His black coat was cut to a close fit, narrowing at the shoulders and opening slightly over a slightly fuller hip.The trousers, which were tighter than the fashion of the day, hugged his rounded legs tightly; the uppers of the patent leather shoes were concealed by beige overslips.He came briskly toward Spade with small, affected steps, a black bowler hat clutched in his suede-gloved hand.A scent of perfume wafted over him.Spade nodded to the person who was coming, then motioned to a chair, and said, "Sit down, Mr. Carroll." Kylo put his hat in front of him, bowed carefully, said "Thank you" in a high-pitched voice, and sat down.He sat upright, his feet crossed, his hat on his knees, and when he was seated he began to take off his yellow gloves. Spade leaned back in his chair and asked, "What can I do for you, Mr. Carroll?" Bridget O'Shaughnessy asked the same question exactly. Kylo turned the hat over, threw the gloves in, and placed the hat upside down on the corner of the table nearest him.The index finger and ring finger of his left hand sparkle with diamonds, and the middle finger of his right hand wears a matching ruby on the bow tie, even the surrounding diamonds are of the same style.His hands were well maintained and his skin was soft.Although the hands were not big, the loose muscles made them look a little clumsy.With a rustle of rubbing his hands, he said, "Please allow a stranger to offer his condolences on the tragic death of your partner." "thanks." "May I ask, Mr. Spade, whether, as the papers say, there was - er, some connection between this misfortune and Thursby's death shortly afterwards?" Spade was expressionless and said nothing. Kylo stood up and bowed. "Excuse me." After he finished speaking, he sat down again, put his hands on his sides, and leaned on the corner of the table with his palms facing down. "I'm not asking out of idle curiosity, Mr. Spade. I'm trying to recover a - so to speak - lost, er, ornament. I think, I'd like your assistance I." Spade nodded, raising his eyebrows to show he was listening. "The ornament is a statue," Kylo continued, carefully choosing and enunciating the words, "a statue of a black bird." Spade nodded again, politely interested. "On behalf of the rightful owner of the statue, I am going to pay five thousand dollars to get it back." Kylo raised a hand from the corner of the table, stretched out an ugly index finger, and pointed the broad flat fingertip to a point in mid-air , "I can assure you—what does that sentence mean—don't ask about the process but only about the result." "Five thousand dollars is a lot of money." Spade commented, looking at Kylo thoughtfully. "This—" There was a soft knock on the door.Spade called "Come in," and the door opened, letting Effie's head and shoulders come in.She had on a small black felt hat and a dark coat with a gray fur collar. "Any thing else?" "It's all right, good night. Can you lock the door when you go?" "Good night." After she finished speaking, she closed the door and disappeared behind the crack of the door. Spade turned his chair around, faced Kylo again, and said, "That's an attractive number." The sound of Effie Palin closing the hallway door. Kylo smiled and pulled a short, flat black pistol from his inside pocket. "Please clasp your hands and put them behind your neck."
Notes:
Spade went into a reception room.A plaque on the door shows that the legendary Mr. Wise of "Meliken & Wise" was working here.The redhead sitting at the switchboard said, "Oh, hello, Mr. Spade." "Hello, dear," he replied, "Is Sid there?" He stood beside her, one hand on her round shoulder, watched her connect an adapter, and said into the microphone, "Mr. Wise, Mr. Spade is here to see you." She looked up at Spede. Ped, "Go in." He thanked her with a squeeze of the shoulder, walked through the reception room into a dimly lit corridor, and down the corridor to a frosted glass door at the end.He opened the door and walked into the office.A small, olive-skinned man sat behind a huge desk covered with bundles of papers.His oval face looked tired and his thin black hair was speckled with dandruff.The little man waved at Spade with the butt of a dead cigar in his hand and said, "Pull up a chair. Miles hit the jackpot last night?" His weary face and rather raspy voice conveyed nothing. emotion. "Well, that's what I'm here for." Spade frowned and cleared his throat. "I think I'll have to send the coroner to hell, Sid. Can I hide in the Behind the words 'the identity and confidentiality of our clients are sacrosanct'?" Sid Wise shrugged his shoulders, curled his lips and said, "What's wrong? An investigation is not a trial. Anyway, you can try it. It's not like you haven't done this outrageous thing before." "I know, but Dundee is a nuisance, and it's a little too much this time. Hold on to your hats, Sid, and we're going to meet some people we need to meet, I don't want to get in trouble." Sid Wise looked at the pile of papers on the desk and complained, but got up and went to the wardrobe by the window. "You bloody bastard," he said, taking his hat off the coat hook. At ten past five in the evening, Spade returned to his office.Effie Palin is sitting at his desk reading Time.Spade sat at the table and asked, "Anything new?" "Not here. You look like a proud cat that swallowed a canary." He grinned contentedly and said: "I think we have a bright future. I've always had an idea that if Miles leaves here and dies outside, we have a chance to develop well. Can you arrange for me to send flowers thing?" "Already delivered." "You are priceless. How is your womanly instinct today?" "Why do you ask?" "What do you think of Wendry?" "I'm on her side." The girl replied without hesitation. "She has too many names," Spade said to himself thoughtfully. "Wendry, LeBlanc, she says her real name is O'Shaughnessy." "I don't care if she uses every name in the phone book. She's a nice girl, you know." "Not necessarily." Spade winked at Effie Palin wearily, and smiled softly, "Anyway, it's good that she came out with seven hundred dollar bills in two days. " Effie Palin sat up straight and said, "Sam, if this girl is in trouble and you don't help, or take the opportunity to blackmail her, I will never forgive you, never respect you again, never in my life. " Spade smiled awkwardly, then frowned.The frown seemed unnatural.He was about to speak when he was interrupted by a sound from the door in the corridor, through which someone entered.Effie Palin got up and went to the outer office.Spade took off his hat and sat down in a chair.The girl came back with a card that said "Mr. Joe Carroll." "This guy is a sissy," she said. "Bring him in, dear," said Spade. Mr. Joe Kylo was of medium height, dark brown, of narrow frame, with black hair slicked back.He looks human.On his dark green cravat was a square ruby surrounded by four small baguette diamonds, sparkling.His black coat was cut to a close fit, narrowing at the shoulders and opening slightly over a slightly fuller hip.The trousers, which were tighter than the fashion of the day, hugged his rounded legs tightly; the uppers of the patent leather shoes were concealed by beige overslips.He came briskly toward Spade with small, affected steps, a black bowler hat clutched in his suede-gloved hand.A scent of perfume wafted over him.Spade nodded to the person who was coming, then motioned to a chair, and said, "Sit down, Mr. Carroll." Kylo put his hat in front of him, bowed carefully, said "Thank you" in a high-pitched voice, and sat down.He sat upright, his feet crossed, his hat on his knees, and when he was seated he began to take off his yellow gloves. Spade leaned back in his chair and asked, "What can I do for you, Mr. Carroll?" Bridget O'Shaughnessy asked the same question exactly. Kylo turned the hat over, threw the gloves in, and placed the hat upside down on the corner of the table nearest him.The index finger and ring finger of his left hand sparkle with diamonds, and the middle finger of his right hand wears a matching ruby on the bow tie, even the surrounding diamonds are of the same style.His hands were well maintained and his skin was soft.Although the hands were not big, the loose muscles made them look a little clumsy.With a rustle of rubbing his hands, he said, "Please allow a stranger to offer his condolences on the tragic death of your partner." "thanks." "May I ask, Mr. Spade, whether, as the papers say, there was - er, some connection between this misfortune and Thursby's death shortly afterwards?" Spade was expressionless and said nothing. Kylo stood up and bowed. "Excuse me." After he finished speaking, he sat down again, put his hands on his sides, and leaned on the corner of the table with his palms facing down. "I'm not asking out of idle curiosity, Mr. Spade. I'm trying to recover a - so to speak - lost, er, ornament. I think, I'd like your assistance I." Spade nodded, raising his eyebrows to show he was listening. "The ornament is a statue," Kylo continued, carefully choosing and enunciating the words, "a statue of a black bird." Spade nodded again, politely interested. "On behalf of the rightful owner of the statue, I am going to pay five thousand dollars to get it back." Kylo raised a hand from the corner of the table, stretched out an ugly index finger, and pointed the broad flat fingertip to a point in mid-air , "I can assure you—what does that sentence mean—don't ask about the process but only about the result." "Five thousand dollars is a lot of money." Spade commented, looking at Kylo thoughtfully. "This—" There was a soft knock on the door.Spade called "Come in," and the door opened, letting Effie's head and shoulders come in.She had on a small black felt hat and a dark coat with a gray fur collar. "Any thing else?" "It's all right, good night. Can you lock the door when you go?" "Good night." After she finished speaking, she closed the door and disappeared behind the crack of the door. Spade turned his chair around, faced Kylo again, and said, "That's an attractive number." The sound of Effie Palin closing the hallway door. Kylo smiled and pulled a short, flat black pistol from his inside pocket. "Please clasp your hands and put them behind your neck."
Notes: