Chapter 14 Chapter Fourteen White Bird
A few minutes after six in the morning, Spade came out of the elevator, walked around the corner of the corridor, and saw the yellow light shining through the frosted glass door of his office.He stopped abruptly, pursed his lips, looked back and forth in the corridor, and then strode swiftly and silently towards the door.
He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it carefully so that it wouldn't rattle.When the doorknob was turned around, he found that the door was locked, so he kept the doorknob still and held it with his left hand.With his right hand he took the key out of his pocket, being very careful not to let the keys clink together.Holding the other keys in his palm, he picked out the office door key and inserted it into the lock without making any sound.Then he put his weight on the soles of his feet, stood firm, took another deep breath, unscrewed the door with a click, and walked in.
Effie Palin was sleeping on her desk, her head resting on her forearms.She was wearing her own coat, with a Spade coat as a cloak.
Spade breathed a sigh of relief, covered his mouth and laughed, closed the door behind him, and walked inside.The inner office was empty.He walked back to the girl and put his hand on her shoulder.
She woke up, raised her head drowsily, blinked, then sat up suddenly and opened her eyes wide.She laughed when she saw Spade, leaned back in her chair, and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.
"Are you back at last?" she said. "What time is it?"
"Six o'clock. What are you doing here?"
She shivered, wrapped herself in Spade's overcoat, and yawned.
"You asked me to wait for your news here."
"Oh, so you're the sister of the boy who stood on the burning deck?"
"I was going to—" She stopped suddenly, stood up, and let his coat slip on the chair behind her.Her dark brown eyes looked excitedly at his temples showing under the brim of his hat, and she exclaimed, "Oh, your head! What happened?"
His right temple was highly swollen and black with purple.
"I don't know if I fell or was beaten. I think it shouldn't matter, but it hurts like hell." He stretched out his fingertips to touch, and then retracted his hand in pain. He wanted to make a face, but now he can only Squeeze out a barren grin.He explained: "I went to see someone, got drugged, and lay on the floor for twelve hours on all fours."
She tiptoed to help him take off his hat. "It looks scary," she said. "You've got to get a doctor. You can't walk around with a head like that."
"It's not as bad as it looks, it's just a headache, probably because of drug addiction." He walked to the small cubicle in the corner of the office and rinsed his handkerchief under cold water, "What happened after I left? "
"Have you found Miss O'Shaughnessy, Sam?"
"Not yet. What happens when I'm gone?"
"The District Attorney's Office called and he wants to see you."
"himself?"
"Yes, I think so. Another lad came by and left a message that Mr. Gutman would be glad to have a word with you by five-thirty."
Spade turned off the tap, wrung out the handkerchief, put it to his temples, and came out of the cubicle.
"I know that," he said. "I met the lad downstairs. I had a talk with Mr. Gutman, and that's it."
"That Mr. G who called, Sam?"
"right."
"That--"
Spade stared at the girl without her focus.As he spoke, he organized his thoughts. "He thought I could get him something. I convinced him that if he didn't talk to me by five-thirty, I wouldn't let him have it. Then—well, yes, I told him Had to wait a few more days and he fed me that shit. He doesn't seem to think I'm dead. He should know I wake up in ten or so hours, so it's probably because he thinks if I Can't move for a while, he can get things by himself during this time, so as not to meddle in the middle." He frowned disapprovingly, "I hope he is wrong." At this time his eyes It didn't seem so far away, "Didn't O'Shaughnessy send you a message?"
The girl shook her head and asked, "Is this related to her?"
"It's kind of related."
"The thing he wants belongs to her?"
"Or rather the King of Spain. You have an uncle who teaches history or something at the university, sweetie?"
"A cousin. Why do you ask that?"
"If we tell him a historical secret that claims to be four centuries ago, can he keep it secret for a while?"
"Oh, no problem, he is very nice."
"Okay. Get your paper and pen here."
She fetched a pen and paper and sat down on a chair.Spade poured some more cold water on the handkerchief, pressed it to his temple, and stood before her, telling the story of the eagle he had heard from Gutman.He begins with Charles V's grace to the Knights Hospitaller, and ends with the enamelled eagle following the remnants of Don Carlos to Paris.He stumbled a little at the authors and titles that Gutman mentioned, but he could make out the rough pronunciation.He accurately recounted other parts of history like a well-trained reporter.
After he finished speaking, the girl closed the notebook and looked up at him with a smile, her face flushed with excitement.
"Oh, it's a thrilling story," she said, "it's—"
"That's right, it could be downright absurd. Now can you read it to your cousin and ask him what he thinks? Has he seen any literature on it? Is the story plausible? Is the story even remotely possible, or is it completely fanciful? If he needs time to look it up, fine, but let him give a general opinion first. And, for God's sake, let him keep it a secret."
"I'll go right away," she said, "you go to the doctor and have a look at your head."
"Let's go have breakfast first."
"No, I'll eat at Berkeley. I can't wait to hear what Ted has to say."
"Well," said Spade, "don't cry if he makes fun of you."
Spade read two morning papers during a leisurely breakfast at the Palace Hotel.Then he went home, shaved, showered, rubbed ice on his bruised temples, and changed into clean clothes. He went to Bridget O'Shaughnessy's room at the Crown Apartments, which was empty.Everything is the same as the last time he came. He went to the Alexandra Hotel again.Gutman was not there; nobody who lived in Gutman's suite was there.Spade also found out that the other two people living in the suite were the fat man's secretary, Wilmore Cook, and the fat man's daughter, Rhea.She was a little girl with light blonde hair and brown eyes, seventeen years old.The hotel staff said she was beautiful.Spade learned that Gutman and his party had come from New York ten days ago and hadn't checked out yet.Spade went to the Belvedere Hotel and found the security chief eating in the hotel restaurant. "Good morning, Sam, sit down and eat an egg." The security director stared at Spade's temple, "God, who beat you like this!" "Thanks, I've had breakfast," Spade said, sitting down and pointing to his temple. "It's not as serious as it looks. What did my Mr. Carol do?" "He went out after you walked for less than half an hour yesterday, and I haven't seen him since. He didn't sleep here last night." "He's starting to develop bad habits." "Hey, that's what a guy does when he's alone in a big city. Who beat you up, Sam?" "Not Kylo," Spade said intently, looking intently at the little silver round lid that covered Luke's toast plate. "Can you take a look at his room while he's away?" "Okay. You know I'm always on your side." Luke pushed his coffee away, put his elbows on the table, and squinted at Spade, "but I have a hunch you don't want to be with me." Stand aside. Sam, tell me honestly, what's the matter with this guy? You don't have to guard against me, you know I'm not a bad person." Spade lifted his eyes from their round silver lids, their eyes clear and frank. "Of course, you're a good man," he said. "I'll tell you the truth. I'm working for him, to be blunt, but he's got a few friends who don't seem right, so I'm a little suspicious of him." "The kid we kicked out yesterday was his friend." "Yes, Luke, he is one." "It was one of them who killed Miles." Spade shook his head. "It was Thursby who killed Miles." "And who killed Thursby?" Spade laughed: "This was originally a secret, but to be honest, according to the police, I did it." Luke grunted disapprovingly and stood up. "You're such a puzzling fellow. Come on, Sam, let's go and see." They were delayed a bit at the front desk.Luke told the front desk to "keep an eye on it and give us a call if he comes back" and went upstairs to Kylo's room.Kylo's bed was smooth and tidy, though there were balls of paper in the wastebasket, the blinds weren't drawn properly, and there were a few crumpled towels in the bathroom, suggesting that the cleaners hadn't been there that morning. Cairo's luggage consisted of a suitcase, a duffel bag, and a handbag.The small cupboard in his bathroom is filled with cosmetics—boxes, jars, bottles, powders, creams, balms, perfumes, lotions, toners of all kinds.In the closet hung two suits and a coat, and underneath were three pairs of shoes, all carefully lasted. Neither the duffel nor the handbag were locked.When Spade finished searching other places, Luke had already unlocked the suitcase. "Nothing so far," Spade said as the two rummaged through their suitcases.They found nothing in the suitcase either. "Anything in particular you're looking for?" Luke asked as he locked his suitcase. "No. He should have come here from Constantinople, and I wanted to make sure that was the case. But I found no evidence against that." "What does he do?" Spade shook his head. "That's what I want to know." He walked across the room and bent over the wastebasket. "Well, this is our last chance." He took a newspaper out of the wastebasket, and his eyes lit up when he realized that it was the previous day's Golos.The newspaper is folded, and the outward facing page is the classified ad.He unfolded the newspaper, read the page carefully, and found nothing special.He turned the newspaper over and read the page that had been folded inward.On this page are financial news, aviation news, weather, births, marriages, divorces, and deaths.Near the bottom left corner, about two inches from the bottom of the second column has been torn off, and above the torn-off is a subheading "Arrived Today," followed by: 12:20 AM Kappa arrives from Astoria 5:05 am Helen P. Drew arrives from Greenwood 5:06 am The Abalado arrives in Hong Kong from Pandong The next line was torn down the middle, and from the remaining letters it could only be inferred that the ship had come from Sydney. Spade put the newspaper on the desk and looked into the wastebasket again.He found a small piece of wrapping paper, a length of string, the labels of two socks, a receipt from a men's clothing store, and bought half a dozen socks.Finally he found a newspaper rolled up in a small ball at the bottom of the wastebasket. He carefully unfolded the ball of paper, flattened it on the desk, and compared it with the torn piece of "Call".The side gaps fit perfectly, but there was about half an inch missing between the top of the crumpled paper and the words "From Sydney", enough space to get the arrival information for six or seven ships.He turned the paper over and found that the missing part on the back was just the corner of a stockbroker's advertisement, with no important information. Luke poked his head over his shoulder and asked, "What's going on here?" "It appears that this gentleman is interested in a ship." "Hey, it's not illegal, is it?" Luke said.Meanwhile Spade folded up the torn newspaper and crumpled paper and put them in his coat pocket. "Are you done with everything here?" "Yeah, thanks a lot, Luke. Can you give me a call as soon as he gets back?" "no problem."
Spade went to the sales office of the Call, bought a copy of yesterday's paper, turned to the flight news page, and compared it with the one he found in the Cairo wastebasket.The missing part reads: 5:17am Tahiti arrives from Sydney and Papeete 6:05am Admiral Peeples arrives from Astoria 8:07am Cadopique arrives from San Pedro 8:17 am The Silverado arrives from San Pedro 8:05 am The White Pigeon arrives from Hong Kong 9:03 am The Daisy Gray arrives from Seattle He read these entries carefully, and after reading them, he scratched a line under "Hong Kong" with his fingernails, and cut out today's arrival list from the newspaper with the pocket knife he carried, and combined the rest of the newspaper with Kai Luo's. Throw them into the wastebasket together and go back to your office. Sitting at his desk, he looked up a number in the phone book and picked up the phone. "Please pick up 1404 Coney Street. Where did the White Pigeon from Hong Kong stop yesterday morning?" He repeated the question and wrote down the answer, "Thank you." He depresses the handset hanger with his thumb for a moment, then releases it, saying, "2020 Davenport Street, please. . . . Police station. Thank you . . . Is Sheriff Burrows there? Thank you . . . , Tom, I'm Sam Spade...yes, I saw you yesterday afternoon...of course, join me for lunch...okay." He put the receiver to his ear and pressed his thumb again to hang it up cross. "170 Davenport Street, please. Hello, I'm Samuel Spade. My secretary got a call yesterday saying Mr. Bryan wants to see me. Could you please ask what time he is More convenient? ... Yes, Spade, Spade." After a long pause, he added: "Is it... two-thirty? Yes. Thank you." He made a fifth call: "Hi, honey, let me speak to Sid. … Hi Sid, this is Sam. I have an appointment with the District Attorney at two o'clock this afternoon, Can you call me around four o'clock? Here or there just to see if I'm in trouble. … To hell with your Saturday afternoon golf, your job is not to let I'm going to jail... All right, Sid. Goodbye." He pushed away the phone, yawned and stretched, reached out to touch his bruised temple, glanced at his watch, rolled a cigarette, and lit it.He was smoking wearily when Effie Palin walked in. She came in with a broad smile, rosy cheeks and bright eyes. "Ted said it might be true," she reported, "he hoped it was true. He said he wasn't an expert in the field, but the names and dates were all right, and the authors and books you mentioned were true. Yes. The story thrilled him." "That's great. As long as he doesn't get too enthusiastic, he won't be able to see the truth of the story." "Oh, he won't—Ted's not like that. He's got a lot of history." "Aha, the whole Palin family is awesome," Spade said, "including you and the soot on your nose." "His name isn't Palin. His name is Christie." She looked down at her nose in the small mirror in the compact. "It must have been from the fire." She wiped the spot with the corner of her handkerchief. "Palin and Christie's enthusiasm ignited Berkeley?" he asked. Dabbing her nose with a round pink powder puff, she made a face at him. "One of the boats was on fire when I came back. They were pulling it out of the dock and the smoke was blowing into our ferry." Spade grabbed the arm of the chair with both hands. "Are you close? Do you see the name of the ship?" he asked. "Yes, White Dove. Why do you ask that?" Spade smiled wryly. "Little sister, if only I knew."
Notes:
Spade read two morning papers during a leisurely breakfast at the Palace Hotel.Then he went home, shaved, showered, rubbed ice on his bruised temples, and changed into clean clothes. He went to Bridget O'Shaughnessy's room at the Crown Apartments, which was empty.Everything is the same as the last time he came. He went to the Alexandra Hotel again.Gutman was not there; nobody who lived in Gutman's suite was there.Spade also found out that the other two people living in the suite were the fat man's secretary, Wilmore Cook, and the fat man's daughter, Rhea.She was a little girl with light blonde hair and brown eyes, seventeen years old.The hotel staff said she was beautiful.Spade learned that Gutman and his party had come from New York ten days ago and hadn't checked out yet.Spade went to the Belvedere Hotel and found the security chief eating in the hotel restaurant. "Good morning, Sam, sit down and eat an egg." The security director stared at Spade's temple, "God, who beat you like this!" "Thanks, I've had breakfast," Spade said, sitting down and pointing to his temple. "It's not as serious as it looks. What did my Mr. Carol do?" "He went out after you walked for less than half an hour yesterday, and I haven't seen him since. He didn't sleep here last night." "He's starting to develop bad habits." "Hey, that's what a guy does when he's alone in a big city. Who beat you up, Sam?" "Not Kylo," Spade said intently, looking intently at the little silver round lid that covered Luke's toast plate. "Can you take a look at his room while he's away?" "Okay. You know I'm always on your side." Luke pushed his coffee away, put his elbows on the table, and squinted at Spade, "but I have a hunch you don't want to be with me." Stand aside. Sam, tell me honestly, what's the matter with this guy? You don't have to guard against me, you know I'm not a bad person." Spade lifted his eyes from their round silver lids, their eyes clear and frank. "Of course, you're a good man," he said. "I'll tell you the truth. I'm working for him, to be blunt, but he's got a few friends who don't seem right, so I'm a little suspicious of him." "The kid we kicked out yesterday was his friend." "Yes, Luke, he is one." "It was one of them who killed Miles." Spade shook his head. "It was Thursby who killed Miles." "And who killed Thursby?" Spade laughed: "This was originally a secret, but to be honest, according to the police, I did it." Luke grunted disapprovingly and stood up. "You're such a puzzling fellow. Come on, Sam, let's go and see." They were delayed a bit at the front desk.Luke told the front desk to "keep an eye on it and give us a call if he comes back" and went upstairs to Kylo's room.Kylo's bed was smooth and tidy, though there were balls of paper in the wastebasket, the blinds weren't drawn properly, and there were a few crumpled towels in the bathroom, suggesting that the cleaners hadn't been there that morning. Cairo's luggage consisted of a suitcase, a duffel bag, and a handbag.The small cupboard in his bathroom is filled with cosmetics—boxes, jars, bottles, powders, creams, balms, perfumes, lotions, toners of all kinds.In the closet hung two suits and a coat, and underneath were three pairs of shoes, all carefully lasted. Neither the duffel nor the handbag were locked.When Spade finished searching other places, Luke had already unlocked the suitcase. "Nothing so far," Spade said as the two rummaged through their suitcases.They found nothing in the suitcase either. "Anything in particular you're looking for?" Luke asked as he locked his suitcase. "No. He should have come here from Constantinople, and I wanted to make sure that was the case. But I found no evidence against that." "What does he do?" Spade shook his head. "That's what I want to know." He walked across the room and bent over the wastebasket. "Well, this is our last chance." He took a newspaper out of the wastebasket, and his eyes lit up when he realized that it was the previous day's Golos.The newspaper is folded, and the outward facing page is the classified ad.He unfolded the newspaper, read the page carefully, and found nothing special.He turned the newspaper over and read the page that had been folded inward.On this page are financial news, aviation news, weather, births, marriages, divorces, and deaths.Near the bottom left corner, about two inches from the bottom of the second column has been torn off, and above the torn-off is a subheading "Arrived Today," followed by: 12:20 AM Kappa arrives from Astoria 5:05 am Helen P. Drew arrives from Greenwood 5:06 am The Abalado arrives in Hong Kong from Pandong The next line was torn down the middle, and from the remaining letters it could only be inferred that the ship had come from Sydney. Spade put the newspaper on the desk and looked into the wastebasket again.He found a small piece of wrapping paper, a length of string, the labels of two socks, a receipt from a men's clothing store, and bought half a dozen socks.Finally he found a newspaper rolled up in a small ball at the bottom of the wastebasket. He carefully unfolded the ball of paper, flattened it on the desk, and compared it with the torn piece of "Call".The side gaps fit perfectly, but there was about half an inch missing between the top of the crumpled paper and the words "From Sydney", enough space to get the arrival information for six or seven ships.He turned the paper over and found that the missing part on the back was just the corner of a stockbroker's advertisement, with no important information. Luke poked his head over his shoulder and asked, "What's going on here?" "It appears that this gentleman is interested in a ship." "Hey, it's not illegal, is it?" Luke said.Meanwhile Spade folded up the torn newspaper and crumpled paper and put them in his coat pocket. "Are you done with everything here?" "Yeah, thanks a lot, Luke. Can you give me a call as soon as he gets back?" "no problem."
Spade went to the sales office of the Call, bought a copy of yesterday's paper, turned to the flight news page, and compared it with the one he found in the Cairo wastebasket.The missing part reads: 5:17am Tahiti arrives from Sydney and Papeete 6:05am Admiral Peeples arrives from Astoria 8:07am Cadopique arrives from San Pedro 8:17 am The Silverado arrives from San Pedro 8:05 am The White Pigeon arrives from Hong Kong 9:03 am The Daisy Gray arrives from Seattle He read these entries carefully, and after reading them, he scratched a line under "Hong Kong" with his fingernails, and cut out today's arrival list from the newspaper with the pocket knife he carried, and combined the rest of the newspaper with Kai Luo's. Throw them into the wastebasket together and go back to your office. Sitting at his desk, he looked up a number in the phone book and picked up the phone. "Please pick up 1404 Coney Street. Where did the White Pigeon from Hong Kong stop yesterday morning?" He repeated the question and wrote down the answer, "Thank you." He depresses the handset hanger with his thumb for a moment, then releases it, saying, "2020 Davenport Street, please. . . . Police station. Thank you . . . Is Sheriff Burrows there? Thank you . . . , Tom, I'm Sam Spade...yes, I saw you yesterday afternoon...of course, join me for lunch...okay." He put the receiver to his ear and pressed his thumb again to hang it up cross. "170 Davenport Street, please. Hello, I'm Samuel Spade. My secretary got a call yesterday saying Mr. Bryan wants to see me. Could you please ask what time he is More convenient? ... Yes, Spade, Spade." After a long pause, he added: "Is it... two-thirty? Yes. Thank you." He made a fifth call: "Hi, honey, let me speak to Sid. … Hi Sid, this is Sam. I have an appointment with the District Attorney at two o'clock this afternoon, Can you call me around four o'clock? Here or there just to see if I'm in trouble. … To hell with your Saturday afternoon golf, your job is not to let I'm going to jail... All right, Sid. Goodbye." He pushed away the phone, yawned and stretched, reached out to touch his bruised temple, glanced at his watch, rolled a cigarette, and lit it.He was smoking wearily when Effie Palin walked in. She came in with a broad smile, rosy cheeks and bright eyes. "Ted said it might be true," she reported, "he hoped it was true. He said he wasn't an expert in the field, but the names and dates were all right, and the authors and books you mentioned were true. Yes. The story thrilled him." "That's great. As long as he doesn't get too enthusiastic, he won't be able to see the truth of the story." "Oh, he won't—Ted's not like that. He's got a lot of history." "Aha, the whole Palin family is awesome," Spade said, "including you and the soot on your nose." "His name isn't Palin. His name is Christie." She looked down at her nose in the small mirror in the compact. "It must have been from the fire." She wiped the spot with the corner of her handkerchief. "Palin and Christie's enthusiasm ignited Berkeley?" he asked. Dabbing her nose with a round pink powder puff, she made a face at him. "One of the boats was on fire when I came back. They were pulling it out of the dock and the smoke was blowing into our ferry." Spade grabbed the arm of the chair with both hands. "Are you close? Do you see the name of the ship?" he asked. "Yes, White Dove. Why do you ask that?" Spade smiled wryly. "Little sister, if only I knew."
Notes: