Private detective, Philip Marlowe, is in troubleagain! He witnesses a murder. He knows the killer.The police do not want to find the murderer, andMarlowe thinks this is strange. He knows somethingis wrong. WiII he discover the truth?

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The cover shows a detail from Con{erence ot Nigtrr by Edward Hopper in the Wichita Art Museum.Wichita, Kansas;the Roland P.Murdock Collection (photo: Henry Nelson)

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Copyright 1940 by Raymond ChandlerFareuell, My Lovely first published in 1940 by Hanush Hamilron

This adaptarion ti", published by Penguin Books 1991Published by Addíson Wesley Longman Limited and Penguin Books Ltd. 1998

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Contents

page

Introduction V

Chapter 1 Moose Malloy 1

Chapter 2 The Right Kind of Bottle 6

Chapter 3 'Always Yours' 8

Chapter 4 Purissima Canyon 12

Chapter 5 'Don't Call Me Annie' 19

Chapter 6 A Glass ofSomething Golden 24

Chapter 7 The House on the Hill 29

Chapter 8 Brains Behind the Business 34

Chapter 9 The Montecito 39

Chapter 10 'My Little Velma' 46

Activities 54

Introduction

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'f;Y1¡ere do you thinle Tve been these last e~í[ht years?' He looked quiteplcased with himsel]. 'Prison. Malloy's the name. Moose Mallo)'. 1111'Creat Bend banle job - that u/as me. On my oum, too. Fortv thousanddollars. )

If anyone could rob a bank on his own, it's Moose Malloy. He'sas hard as stone and as big as a bus. Now he's out of prison, andhe wants two things: to know who gave his name to the policeeight years ago, and to find his girlfriend.

Moose means trouble, and it's the sort of trouble a privatedetective should stay away from. So of course Philip Marloweruns straight into it: trouble with the police, trouble with women,trouble with almost every criminal in California ... And troublewith murder. Even when he tries to walk away from it, this sortof trouble just follows him around ...

Raymond Chandler is one of the greatest modern detectivewriters. He turned the American crime story into a kind of arto

He was born in 1888 in Chicago, Illinois, but was brought upand educated in England. He worked as a reporter in Londonbefore returning, in 1912, to the USA. After fighting in Franceduring World War 1,he lived and worked in California. He losthis job in 1932. Then he started to write crirne stories for maga-zines. His first book, The Big Sleep (1939), was about a privatedetective, Philip Marlowe. It was a great success, and he wroteabout Marlowe in many other books, including Fareu/ell, MyLove/y (1940), Tlze H~gh Window (1942), JlIe Lady in the Lake(1944) and The LOll,í[ Coodbyc (1953). Many ofhis books havebeen made into successful films.

Raymond Chandler died in 1959.

Chapter 1 Moose Malloy

It was a warm day, almost the end ofMarch. 1 was over on MainStreet, Iooking up at the sign of a second floor nightclub calledFlorian's. There was aman near me Iooking up at the sign too,his eyes dreamy and a little shiny with tears, as ifhe was thinkingof other people, other times he'd known there. He was a bigmano but not much taller than six and a half feet and notmuch wider than a bus. His hands hung at his sides; in one ofthem was a forgotten cigar, smoking between his enormousfingers.

Passers-by were Iooking at him. He was interesting to look at,too, with his old gangster hat, worn, wooljacket with little whitefootballs on it for buttons, a brown shirt, yellow tie, grey trousersand snakeskin shoes with white bits over the toes. A bright yel-low handkerchief, the same colour as his tie, was stuck in the toppocket of his jacket. Main Street isn't the quietest dressed streetin the world, but even there you couldn't miss him. He was like aspider on a bowl of pink ice-cream.

He stood completely still, then slowly smiled and movedtowards the door at the bottom of the steps up to the club. Hewent in and the door closed behind him. A couple of secondslater, it burst open again, outwards. Something flew out fast andlanded between two cars on the street. A young black man in apurple suit with a little white flower in his buttonhole, stood upslowly, making asad sound like a lonely cat, shook himself andwalked painfully away down the street.

Silence. Traffic started again. It was none of my business at all,so 1 waIked over to the door to take a look inside. A hand as bigas an arrnchair, reached out of the darkness of the door and tookhold of my shoulder, squeezing hard. The hand picked me up

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and pulled me in through the door, up a step or two. A large facelooked at me and a guiet voice said: 'Blacks in here now, huh?

h hi ?'Just threw one out. You see me t row un out.He let go of my shoulder. It wasri't broken but 1 couldn't_ feel

my armo I kept guiet; there was taIking and laughter trornupstairs. The voice went on guietly and angrily: 'Velma used towork here. My little Velma. Haven't seen her for eight years. Andnow this is a black place, huh?' He took hold of my shoulder

again, wanting an answer.1 said yes, it was, but my voice sounded broken and weak.

He lifted me up a few more steps and I tried to shake myselffree. I wasn't wearing a gun, but the big rnan could probablyjust take it away from me and eat it, so it wouldn't have

helped.'Go up and see,' I said, trying to keep the pain out of my

vorce.He let go of me again, and looked at me with his sad, grey

eyes. 'Yeah. Good idea. Let's you and me go on up and have a

drink or two.''They wori't serve you. I told you it's for blacks only up there,'

I said, but he didn' t seem to hear me.'Haven't seen Velma in eight years. Eight long years since we

said goodbye, and she hasn't written for su. Don't know why.

She used to work here. Let's go on up now, huh?'So we went up the stairs to the club. He let me walk, but my

shoulder still hurt and the back of my neck was wet.

didri't move when the black put his hand on the front of myfriend's brown shirt and said: 'No whites in here, brother. Sorry.This place's for blacks only.'

'Where's Velma?' That's a11he said.The big black man nearly laughed. 'Ve1ma? No Velma here,

white boy. She's not in the business any more, maybe.''Velma used to work here,' the big man said. He spoke as ifhe

was dreaming. 'And take your dirty hand off my shirt.'That annoyed the black. People didn't speak like that to him,

not in his job, throwing drunks out ofthe club. He took his handoff the shirt and then suddenly pulled back his arm and hit thebig man hard on the side of the face. He was very good at hittingpeople hard, but rhis time it was a mistake. The big man didn'teven move. He just stood there. Then he shook himself and tookthe black man by the throat. He picked him IIp with one hand,turned him in the air, put his other enormous hand against theblack man's back and threw him right across the room. He wentover a table and landed with a crash against the wa11.The wholeroom shook. The black man didn't move - he just lay there inthe corner.

The big man turned to me. 'Some guys,' he said, 'are stupid.Now let's get that drink.'

We went over to the bar. In ones and twos, like shadows, theother customers were moving towards the door, getting out ofthere fasto

'Beer,' the big man said to the white-eyed barman. 'What'syours?'

'Beer,' I said. We had beers. I turned and looked at the room.It was empty now, except for the big black man moving painfullyout of the corner on his hands and knees, suddenly old and outof a job. The big man turned and looked too, but didn't seem tosee him.

'You know where my Velma is?' he asked the barman.

•The talking and laughter stopped dead when we walked in. Thesilence was cold and heavy, like a stone. Eyes looked at US, headsturned. A big, thick-necked black, with a flattened face, slowlystood up straight near the bar, getting ready to throw us out. Hecame towards uso My big friend waited for him silently and

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'Beautiful rcdhead, she was. Sometimes sang here, too. We weregoing to get married when they sent me away.'

'Sent you away?' 1 asked. Stupid question.'Where d'you think I've been these last eight years?' He

looked quite pleased with himself 'Prison. Malloy's my name.Moose Malloy. The Great Bend bankjob - that was me. On myown, too. Forty thousand dollars.'

'You spending it now?' 1 asked,just trying to be políte.He looked at me sharply. 1 was lucky - just at that moment,

there was a noise behind usoIt was the big, hurt black man goingthrough another door at the other end of the room.

'Where do es that door go to?' Moose Malloy asked thefrightened barman.

'Boss's office, sir.''Maybe the boss knows where my little Velma is,' said Malloy,

and crossed the room to the door. It was locked but he shook itopen with one hand, went through and shut it behind him.There was silence for a minute or two. 1 drank my beer and thebarman watched me.

Then suddenly, there was a short, hard sound from behind thedoor. The barman froze, mouth open, eyes white in the dark.1 started moving towards the door, but it opened with abang before 1 got there. Moose Malloy carne through andstopped dead, a strange srnile on his face. He was holding agun.

He carne across to the bar. 'Your boss didn't know whereVelma is either. Tried to tell me - with this.' He waved the gun atus wildly. Then he started towards the door and we heard hissteps going down fast to the street.

1 went through the other door, to the boss's office. The bigblack man wasn't there any more, but the boss was. He was in atall chair behind a desk, with his head bent right back over theback of the chair and his nose poínting up at the ceiling. His

'No wlútcs in here, brother. Sorry. This place'sfor blacks only ,

5

neck was broken. It had been a bad idea to pull that gun outwhen he was taJking to Moose Malloy. There was a telephoneon the desk, so 1 callcd the police. By the time they arrivcd, thebarman had gone and I had the whole place to myself.

be looking for her, so if you find her, you'll find him. Try Velrna,Nulty, that's my advice.'

'You try her,' he said.1 Iaughed and started for the door.'Hey, wait a minute, Marlowe.' 1 stopped and Iooked back at

him. 'I mean, ifyou're not too busy, maybe you've got time tohave a Iook for the girl. I'd remember your help, too. You PI'saIways need a fiiend down here among us boys, and 1 wouldn'tforget it. Not ever.'

It was true. 1 wasri't at all busy. 1 hadn't had any real businessfor about a month. Even this job would make a change fromdoing nothing. No money in it, but a friend inside the policestation rnight be useful one day.

That's how, when I'd eaten some lunch and bought a bottle ofgood whisky, 1 found myself driving north again on Main Street,following an idea that was playing around in my head.

Chapter2 The Right Kind ofBottle

A detective named Nulry took the investigation. 1 went withhim to the 77th Street police station and we talked in a small,uncornfortable room which smelled of cheap cigars. Nulty's shirtwas old and his jacket was worn. He looked poor enough to behonest, but he didn't Iook as if he'd be able to face MooseMalloy and win.

He picked up my business card from the tabIe and read it.'Philip Marlowe, Private Investigator. One of those guys, huh?

So what were you doing while this Moose Malloy was breakingthe black guy's neck?'

'1 was in the bar. And he hadn't promised me he was going tobreak anybody's neck.'

'OK, fimny guy. Just tell me the story straight.' Nulty didri'tlike my jokes.

So 1 told him about Moose Malloy: the size of the man, whathe was wearing, why he was there and what happened in thatnightclub bar. 'But 1 don't think he went in there to kill any-body,' 1 finished. 'Not dressed like that. He just went there to tryto find his girl, this Velma who used to work at Florian's when itwas still a white place.'

The phone rang on his desk. He picked it up and listened,wrote something on a piece of paper and put it down again.

'That was lnformation. They'vc got all the details on Malloy,and a photo.'

'1 think you should start looking for the girl. Malloy's going to

•FIorian's was closed, of course. 1 parked round the comer andwent into a small hotel that was on the opposite side of the streetfrom the club. Aman with a very old tie, pinned in the rniddlewith a large green stone, was sleeping peacefully behind the desk.He opened one eye and saw the bottle of good whisky standingon the counter right in front ofhis nose. He was suddenly awake.He studied the bottle carefully and he studied me. He lookedsatisfied.

'You want information, brother, you've come to the rightplace with the right kind of bottle.' He took two small glassesout from under his desk, filled them both and drank one straightdown.

'Yes, sir. Certainly is the correct bottle.' He refilled his glass.'Now,how can 1 be ofhelp to you, brother? There's not a hole inthe road round here that 1 don't know by its first name.'

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1 told him what had happened at Florian's that moming. HeIooked at me without much surprise and just shook his head.

'What happened to the guy who owned Florian's about six or

eight years ago?' 1 asked him.'Mike Florian? Dead, brother. Went to meet Our Maker five,

maybe six years ago. Drank a bit too much, they said. Left a wife

named Jessie.''What happened to her?''Don't rightly know, brother. Try the phone book.'Clever guy, that. Why hadn't 1 thought of the phone book?

He pushed the book across the desk to me and 1 looked. Therewas a Jessie Florian who lived at 1644 West 54th Place. 1 wrotedown the address, shook hands with the man behind the desk,put the bottle back in the pocket of my jacket and went out tomy caro Finding Malloy looked so easy now. Too easy.

'Mrs Jessie Florían? Wtfr cif Míke Florian?'

Chapter 3 'AlwaysYours'

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1644 West 54th Place was a dry-looking brown house with somedry-Iooking brown grass in front ofit. Some half- washed clotheshung stiffiy on a line to one side of the house. The bell didn'twork so 1 knocked. A fat woman with a red face came to thedoor, blowing her nose. Her hair was grey and lifeless.

'Mrs Jessie Flarian? Wife of Mike Florian?' 1 asked.Her eyes opened in surprise. 'Why?' she asked. 'Mike's been

h d' ?'dead five years now. W o you say you were.Tm a detective,' 1 said. Td like some information.'She stared at me for a long minute, then pulled the door open

and turned back into the house. The front room was untidy anddirty. The only good piece of fumiture was a handsome radio,playing dance music quietly in one comer. It looked new. .

The woman sat down and 1 did toa. 1 sat on an empty whisky

bottle in the back comer of the chair. 1 wasn't too comfortablesitting on an empty bottle, so 1 pulled it out and put it on thefloor by my chair.

Tm trying to fiud a redhead, used to work at your husband'splace over on Main Street,' 1 said. 'Singer, named Velma. 1 don'tknow her last name. 1 thought you might be able to help me.'

1 brought out my nearly-full bottle of whisky and put it on thearm of my chair. Her eyes fixed immediately on the bottle in agreedy stare. 1 was right - a little whisky was going to help meagain here. She got up, went out to the kitchen and came backwith two dirty glasses. 1 poured her enough whisky to make herBy. She took it hungrily and put it down her throat like medi-cine. 1 poured her another. Her eyes were brighter already.

'Man, this stuff dies painlessly with me,' she said. 'Now, let me

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think. A redhead, you say? Yeah. Maybe 1 can help yOll. I've gotan idea.'

She got up with some difficulty and went out towards theback part of the house, The radio went on playing a love song tome. There were crashing noises from the room at the back - achair had fallen overo 1 got up and walked quierly over. 1 lookedround the edge of the open door. She was standing in front of alarge open box, full of old books and pictures and envelopes. Shetook one envelope, fatter than the others, and quickly hid itdown one side of the box. Then she picked up some others, shutthe box and started back to the front room. 1 was sitting listeningto the music by the time she got there.

She gave me a bright smile and handed me the old envelopes.Then she took the whisky bottle and went back to nurse it in herchair. 1opened the envelopes one by one and looked through theold, shiny black-and-white photographs of singers and dancersand old-time jokers that were in them. One or two of thernmight have had red hair; you couldn't tell from thephotographs.

'Why am 1 looking at these?' 1 asked her. She was having sometrouble pouring the whisky into the glass now.

'Looking for Velma, yon said. Could be one of those girls.'She was playing games with me, laughing at me while shefinished my whisky.

1 stood up, walked across the room and into the back roomwhere the box was. There was an angry shout behind me. 1

reached down the side of the box, pulled out the fatter envelopeand went back into the frout room. She was standing in therniddle of the floor, her eyes angry and dangerous.

'Sit down,' 1 said. 'You areri't playing games with MooseMalloy now. lt's not that easy this time.'

'Moose? What about Moose?' The name had frightened her.'He's out of prison and looking for his girl ... with a gun.

I took out an old picture if a pretty girl witk hair that might havebeen red.

He's already killed one guy who didri't want to tell him whereVelma is.'

She went white, lifted [he bottle to her mouth and poured therest of the whisky straight down her throat. A lovely old woman.1 liked being with her,

1 opened the envelope in my hand and took out an old pictureof a pretty girl in a funny hat with luir that might have been red.It was signed 'Always yours - Velrna Valento.'

1held it u p in frout of the old wornan.'Why hide it?' 1 asked, 'Why is it different f1"0111the others?

Where is she?'

1 put the photograph back into the envelope and put theenvelope into my pocket.

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'She's dead. She was a good girl, Velma was. But she's dead.Now get out of here. I'm old and I'm sick. Get out.'

She suddenly lifted the empty bottle and threw it at me. Itwent off into a comer and banged against a wall. Then she satdown in her chair, closed her eyes and went to sleep. The radiowas still playing in the corner. 1 went out to my car and droveback to the 77th Street police station, to Nulry's sme11y littleoffice.

•Nulty was sitting there looking at a police photograph ofMooseMalloy. 1 told him about my visit to the hotel on Main Street andto Mrs Florian with my bottle ofwhisky. 1 told him about thedirty house and the new sixry-dollar radio in the front roomthere. And 1 showed him the photograph ofVelma Valento.

'Nice,' he said. 'But what's happened to her?''Dead. That's what the Plorian woman said. But then why did

she hide the photo? 1 think she's afraid of Moose. 1 think she'safraid that Moose thinks she's the person who told the policeabout his bank job and got him put away in prison for eightyears. Somebody toId them. Maybe he knows who it was. Maybehe wants to find that persono But it's your job to find out what'shappening here,' 1 said. 'I'm going home.'

'Hey! You aren't leaving me in this mess, are you?' he asked.'What's the hurry?'

'No hurry at all,' 1 said, 'but there's nothing more 1 can do.' 1walked to the door and out. Nulty didn't even say goodbye.

Chapter 4 Purissima Canyon

1 was back in my office at about four-thirty when the phonerango A cool voice said 'Philip Marlowe? The prívate detective?'

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1 said yes, maybe. The VOlCe introduced itself 'My name'sLindsay Marriott. 1 live at 4212 Cabrillo Street. I'd be veryhappy if you couId come and discuss something with me thisevening.'

'1'11be there,' 1 said. 1 needed a job. 'What time?'He said seven, so 1 watched the sunlight dancing on my desk

untiI alrnost seven, had a word or two with Nulty on the phonewhen he rang to see ifI had any new ideas - 1hadn't - and then Iwent out to Cabrillo Street. It was dark by the time I got there .Cabrillo Street was a dozen or so houses hanging onto the side ofa mountain by the beach, with the Pacific Ocean crashing inbelow them. There were two hundred and eighty steps up fromthe street to Marriott's house, so I had to sit down for a fewminutes at the top and try to start breathing quietly again before1knocked on the door.

It opened silently and 1 was looking at a ta11man with fair hair,wearing a white suit with a blue flower in its buttonhole.

'Yes?' he said.

'It's exactly seven and here 1 am,' 1 answered.'And you are ... ?' He'd forgotten all about me.'Philip Marlowe,' 1 said. 'Same as 1 was this afternoon.' 1 didn't

think 1 liked this guy.

'Ah yes. Quite right.' He stepped back and said coldly 'Come. ,In.

The carpet was so thick it almost swallowed my shoes on theway through to the living-room, where Marriott arranged him-self on a yellow sofa and lit a French cigarette. 1 lit a Camel andwaited.

'1 asked you to come because I have to pay some money totwo men tonight and 1 thought 1should have someone with me ',he said eventually. 'You carry a gun?'

'Sometimes,' 1 said. 'But 1 dori't often shoot people. Blackmail,is it?'

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1 didn 't like his smile. He was lyin<~ to me.

'Certainly noto l'rn simply buying something and 1'11 becarrying a lot of rnoney. Since I dori't know these rnen, 1thought ..

'But they know you, do they?''1- 1 dori't know. I'rn doing this for a friend, you see.''How much money - and what for?' 1 asked. 1 didri't like his

srnile. He was lying to me. 'Why dori't youjust tell me the wholestory, Mr Marriott? If I'rn going to hold your hand tonight, 1think I should know why.'

He didri't like that, bur in the end I got the full story. Threemen had stolen a valuable diamond ring frorn his friend withouta name a few nights before, when she was coming home from arestaurant in the city, and now they were selling it back for eightthousand dollars. He had spoken to one of the men on the phonetwo or three times, to help his friend, and now he was waiting foranother call, to te11 him where to meet them tonight with themoney.

'So why did you only ca11me this afiernoon, Mr Marriott?That worries me. And why did you choose me? Who told youabout me?'

He laughed. 'No one raid me about you. 1 picked your namefrom the phone book. And I only decided to take someone withme this afternoon - I hadri't thought of it before.'

'So what's the plan?' 1 asked. 'Do 1 hide in the back of thecar? And what do 1 do if these guys pull out a gun and shootyou or knock you on the head, take your eight thousandand run? Nothing 1 could do would stop them. These guysare robbers, Marriott. They're hard. I think 1 should walkaway frorn this job, Marriott. But I'rn stupid, so I wori't. I'llcome with yOll, but 1'11 drive the car and 1'11 carry themoney. And you do the hiding in the back of the car.OK?'

He shook his head and looked unhappy but in the end he

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agreed. Then the phone rango Marriott's face went white as hetook the calloHe listened. 1 could hear a voice talking at the otherend, but I couldn't hear the words.

'Purissima Canyon? ... 1 know it ... Right.' He put thephone down. 'You ready, Marlowe? Let's go.'

1 had never heard of Purissima Canyon, but Marriott said itwas quite near and that we had to be there in twelve minutes. Hegave me an envelope with a1l that money in it. I stuck it in mypocket and we left.

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felt underneath it - a bit soft and painful on one side, but stillworking well enough. Good old head, I' d had it a long time andI could still use it, well, a little at least. 1 turned to look for the car,but it was gone. The envelope with the eight thousand dollarswas gane too.

1 started to walk sIowly back along the dark road. Suddenly, Isaw the dark shape of the car in front of me, round a corner. Itwas silent, lightless, al! the doors shut. Iwent up to it, lit a matchand Iooked inside while the match was burning. Empty. NoMarriott, no blood, no bodies, nothing. Suddenly, I heard thesound of a car's engine. 1 didn't jump more than three feet in theair. Lights cut through the darkness, coming down the roadtowards me. The lights stopped for a minute just round the nextcorner, then they came on down the road. I hid behindMarriott's caro The lights carne on down the hill and stoppedright in front ofMarriott's car. There was a Iaugh, a girl's laugh, astrange sound in that place. Then a girl's voice said: 'All right. Ican see your feet. Come out with your hands nice and empty.I've got a gun on your ankIes.'

I came up slowly, hands up, and looked straight at the lightshining in my face.

'OK, dori't move. Who are you? Is that your car?' the voiceasked, but she sounded a bit frightened, like me.'

'Why did you stop up the road there?' I asked.'So you ask the questions, huh?' she said. 'Well, I was Iooking

at a rnan.'"Tall, with fair hair?'

'Not any more,' she said quietly. 'Might have had fair hair _once.'

Fog had come in from the ocean now, so Idrove Marriott's bigforeign car quite slowly. We found Purissima Canyon withoutdifficulty. It was a quiet, lonely place in the hills behind the city.No houses, no lights. It was as dark as a midnight church. Istopped at the end of the dirt road and switched off the engine.

'Stay there,' I whispered to Marriott, hidden in the back of thecaro 'Your friends may be waiting off the road here. I'll take alook.'

I got out and walked along a small path down the hill. Istopped suddenly and stood in the dark, listening. Not a sound.1 turned to go back to the car. Still nothing.

'No one here,' 1whispered into the back of the caro 'Could bea trick.'

He didn't answer. There was a quick movement just behindmy head, and afterwards, 1 thought 1 may have heard the sound ofthe stick in the air before it hit my head. Maybe you always thinkthat - afterwards.

• 1 didri't say anything for a momento Then 1 said: 'All right, let'sgo and look at him. I'm a private investigator. Marlowes thename. Philip Marlowe. My card's in my wallet. Shall 1 get it outand show you?'

1 opened my eyes and looked up at the stars. 1 was lying on myback. 1 felt sick. All 1 could hear was insects in the night. 1 stoodup carefuIIy. My hat was still on my head. 1 took it off and

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'No. You just walk in front of me and we'Il go and take a lookat what's left of 1'our friend.'

1 turned avvay from the light and went on up the dustyroad, round the comer. The girl with the gun was right behindme.

Chapter 5 'Don't Call Me Annie'

He wasn't pretty to look ato

She shone her light on the body. His fair hair was dark withblood now and more of it ran from the corner of his mouth. Hewasri't pretty to look ato 1 went through his pockets but therewas nothing very interesting. Just coins and keys, a sma11knife,sorneone's business card, that sort ofthing. 1put the business card111 m1' pocket - might be usefullater. The girl watched.

'You shouldri't do that,' she said. Then: 'Sornebody must havehated him, to do that to him.'

'Somebody, yeah, but ir wasn't me. So who was it?''1 didn't think it was you,' she replied.'Could have been you, couldn't it? 1 dori't know. What are

you doing out here alone at this time of night? And what's yourname?'

'M1' narne's Riordan. Anne.And don't call me Annie. Ijust goout for a drive sometimes at night. 1 like these hills at night;they're peaceful. Well, usually they are. 1 saw a light down hereand thought it was odd. So 1 came down to see.'

'You do take some chances, Miss Riordan. A young lady outin these hills alone at night, going down a dark valley toinvestigate. '

'1 had a gun. And what happened to your head?' She wasshining her light right at me now. 'You don't look too good, MrMarlowe.I think 1 should get you out ofhere.'

'I'd be grateful if you'd drive me to my car. It's at Cabrillo

19

Street, near the beach. He lived there.' 1 pointed down atMarriott's body.

'Sure. But shouldn't someone stay with him? And shouldn'twe can the police?' she asked.

'No,' 1said. 'Not yet. l' d like time to think about this first.'So we got into her littIe car and she drove me out ofthere. My

head hurtoWe didn't talk. Then she said: 'You need a drink. Come back

to my place and clean yourself up, have a drink and can thepolice from there. It's just over on West 25th, 819.'

'Thanks,' I said, 'but 1 should get back to my car.' 1 didn'twant her mixed up in this thing.

So she drove me back to the bottom of the steps up toMarriott's house, where 1 had left my car. 1 got out, said thanksand gave her my cardoThen, 1went over to the West Los Angelespolice station on my own, feeling cold and sick.

•

about Moose Malloy, but nothing about Lindsay Marriott. 1wasjust leaving when the phone rangoIt was Nulty and he soundedannoyed.

'Marlowe? What're you doing on Malloy?''Nothing. I've got a headache. You mean you haveri't got him

yet?'He hung up without answering. 1 drove over to my office,

opened the outside door and went in. Anne Riordan looked upfrom the magazine she was reading and srniled at me. In daylight,her hair was a rich red colour, she had grey eyes, a small cheekynose and a wide mouth. She had a nice smile. It was a face 1thought 1would like. Pretty, but not beautiful.

1 opened the inside door and she followed me through intomy office, sat down and took one of my cigarettes.

'You probably didn't think you'd see me again so soon. How'syour head?'

'I'lllive. ''Were the police nice to you?''Same as usual. 1left you out of my story. Don't know why.''Because they might be nasty to me and because 1 might be

useful to yOU.Do you want to know who Marriott's friend was- the lady who lost her valuable ring?'

1 froze. I hadn't said anything to her about the ringMarriottwas trying to get back for his friendo

'1 didn't say anything about a ring last night,' 1said slowly. 'Soyou'd better tell me what you know and how you know it.'

'My father was a police officer. He's dead now. But it was easyfor me to find out that Randall is investigating the Marriottmurder and 1 went over to see him. He toId me. Then 1 wentover to the best jeweller's shop in town and asked the managerthere. 1 told him I was a writer wanting to do a piece aboutfamous and expensive diamonds. He told me the name of thatdiamond and who it belongs to. Easy, you see. It belongs to a

•It was an hour and a halflater. They had taken Marriott's bodyaway and 1 had told my story three times to aman namedRandall. The back of my head was hurting. I sat there looking atthe cigarette between my fmgers and felt about eighty years old.

Randall said coldly: 'Your story sounds silly, Marlowe.'We went through the whole thing again, detail by detail and

Randall cameiup with sorne ideas about the murder which 1didn't like. They weren't right - I told him. He didn't like thateither, but in the end he let me go home. The fog had corn-pletely cleared now. 1wanted a drink badly but the bars were allclosed. 1drove home fasto

1 got up at nine the next morning, drank three cups of blackcoffee and read the morning papers. There was a short piece

20 21

'You have been bus}', haven't you?' Isaíd. She lookedserious and hurt.

very rich lady in Bay City, a Mrs Grayle. She's much yOl1nge1'than her husband and is very beautiful - she sometimes runsaround town with other rnen, Iike Lindsay Marriott. 1 found outthat last bit from a friend in one of thc newspapcrs. He gave me aphoto of Mrs Grayle, too. Look.'

She pushed a photograph of a young wornan across my desk.1 looked at it. Beautiful, about thirty years old - Mrs Grayle had

it all.'So 1 called Mrs Grayle and said 1was your secretary, She'll see

you this afternoon - she wants to get her diamond ring back, andshe might want you to help her do that.'

'You have been busy, haveri't you?' 1 said, She looked seriousand hurto Ves, 1 could certainly get to like that face a lot, 1thought. 1 smiled at her, 'Listen, Anne. Killing Marriott was astupid mistake. 1 don't think this gang meant to murder him atall. They wanted the money for the ring, that's all, and 1guess it'sall right if 1 try to help Mrs Grayle get the ring back, now thatthe gang have got their money for it.'

She nodded. 'You're wonderful,' she said sofily, 'but you'recrazy.'

The word hung in the air as she got up, went very quickly tothe door and out.

1 sat and thought about things. Then 1 took out that businesscard 1 had taken from Marriott's pocket last night and looked atit. Plain and expensive-looking, with the name '[ules Arnthor' 011

it, and under that, the word 'Psychiatrist'. No address. Just aStillwood Heights phone number. There was something aboutMr Amthor and his card, found in a dead mari's pocket, thatwasn't quite right. Could be interesting, 1thought, so 1picked upthe phone and tried the Stillwood Heights number.

22

Chapter 6 A Glass of Something Golden

A woman's voice answered, dry and foreign-sounding. No, shesaid 1couldn't speak to Mr Amthor, but she could take a messageand maybe Amthor could see me next week. 1 spelled out myname, address and phone number for her and then said 1wantedto see Amthor about Lindsay Marriott. 1spelled that for her too.I said 1wanted to see her boss soon - s-o-o-n. Fast. She under-stood. 1 hung up and poured myself a drink from the officebottle. Ten minutes later, she called back and said Amthor wouldsee me at six that evening, that he' d send a car to fetch me.

I was half-way to the lift, on my way to get some lunch, whenan idea hit me. I stopped and pushed my hat back on my headbefore going back into the office and calling aman 1 knew. 1wanted to find out who owned old Jessie Florian's house onWest 54th Place. He could help me. He called me back aboutthree minutes later with the answer.

'Man named LindsayMarriott,' he said.1think 1thanked him,put the phone down and sat staring at the wall for a couple ofminutes. Then 1went down to the coffee shop, ate lunch, got mycar out ofthe car-park and drove east again, to West 54th Place. 1didn't have a bottle with me this time.

•1 went first to the house next door where an old woman livedand watched everything in the street from her windows. Shewould have some answers. I asked her if a big man had been intoMrs Plorian's house the day before, and she described MooseMalloy to me exactly.She also saidMrs Florian alwaysreceived aletter by special delivery on the first day of every month.Tomorrow was the first of April- April Fool's Day.* 1asked her

* April Fool's Day: J day when people play tricks on their friends and family.

24

to be sure to notice ifthe specialletter came as usual, thanked herand walked across to the house next door.

No one answered when 1knocked and rango1 tried again.Noanswer. The door was open, so I went inside. The radio wasturned off but Mrs Florian was there, in the bedroom, in bed. Sheopened her eyes slowly and looked at me.

'Good afternoon, Mrs Plorian,' I said. 'Are you sick?''You get him?' she answered.'Who? The Moose? No, not yet, but we will. Why? You

frightened of him?' No answer to that. 1 put a Camel in mymouth and waited.

'One thing,' 1 said after a minute or two, '1 found out whoowns this house. LindsayMarriott.'

Her body went stiffunder the bedclothes, like wood. Her eyesfroze. Suddenly, she threw back the covers and sat up with hereyes flaming and pointed a little gun at me. But 1 was too quickfor her; 1stepped backwards through the door and out.

'Think about it, Mrs Florian,' 1 shouted back over my shoul-der. 1 went out of the house fast, but nothing happened. Sheprobably couldn't walk straight enough to follow me and shootme in the back. 1drove away.

•1went to see Nulry at the 77th Street police station.

'You,' he said as 1 came in the door. '1 thought you weren'thelping me with the Malloy investigation any more.'

'You still got that picture of Velma Valento? It's really mineand I'd like to keep it,' I said.

He found it under some papers and gave it to me. I put it inmy pocket and left Nulty looking hopeless and helpless behindhis desk.

The phone was ringing as 1walked back into my office.It wasthe rich and beautiful Mrs Grayle,Marriott's friend who had lost

25

•

ber diamond ring so carelessly, and she wanted to see me as soonas possible. She gavc me her address:Astcr Drive, Bay City. 1 wasthere almost before she had said goodbye.

Aster Drive was fu11of nice big houses near the ocean. The rnanat the gate of the Grayles' place was ugly and unfriendly, but helet me in eventually and 1 parked next to the five or six cars inthe driveway. The house itself wasn't mucho Smaller than Buck-ingham Palace. * 1 rang the doorbell. A manservant opened ir andshowed me into a large expensive room. The three people inthere stopped talking when 1 carne in. One of them was AnneRiordan, holding a glass of something golden in one hand.Another was an older man with asad face and the third was MrsGrayle. She was better than her photograph - perfect, a dream, infact. And she was giving me an interesting smile.

'Nice of you to come, Mr Marlowe,' she said. "This IS myhusband.'

1 shook hands with Mr Grayle and smiled at Anne Riordan,wondering what she was doing there. Mr Grayle poured me awhisky and then left. Anne Riordan said she had to be going too.She left too, without another look at me.

'Do you think you can help me?' Mrs Grayle asked. 'I'd be sohappy if yon could help. 1 was so shocked to hear about LinMarriott. Poor Lin.'

'Who knew the true value ofthat diamond ring?' 1 asked. 'Didhe?'

Tve wondered about that,' she replied, her face getting a hardlook on ir. 'He was with me that night, so he knew 1 was wearingthe diamond on my hand aU evening.'

'And what happened out there? How did these guys take ir offyou?' 'Nicc t?lyol/ (o come, Mr Marlowe, ' she said.

* 13l1ckil1gham Palace: the London palace of the king or queen ofEngland.

26

'They must have followed us from the Trocadero, where wehad dinner. Lin was driving. We were in a dark street whensuddenly a car passed us fast and just hit the side of our car, thenstopped in front of USo A ta11,thin man in a coat, with his hat lowover his face, got out and pulled a gun on USo Another man cameup on the other side of our car and took m.y jewellery and myhandbag. They gave my bag back after going through it. Thenthey lefi and we went home. The next day 1 got a call from oneof them and Lin agreed to talk to them for me. 1 think you know

the rest of it.''Yeah. All except the blackmail. Marriott was a blackmailer,

wasn't he? He was blackmailing you, wasn't he? You don't haveto tell me why.'

She stopped to think. 'Ves, he was,' she said slowly. 'He livedfrom blackmailing rich women, like me.'

1 had some of the story, but she wanted to meet me later thatevening at a club in town. There was more to tell me.

•1 drove out of the gate, waving to the ugly man there, andstoppedjust outside when 1 saw Anne Riordan's car standing atthe side of the street. She gave me a nice smile.

'Who told you Marriott pIayed his lady-friends for money?' 1

asked her.'Just a guess,' she said. 'You probabIy want me to stay out of

this business, don't you? But 1 thought 1 was helping a little.Sorry ifI wasn't. It was nice to know you anyway.'

And she started her car and drove away fast down the street. 1

watched her go.It was nearly six when 1 reached my office again. 1 lit a

cigarette and sat down to wait.

28

Chapter7 The House on the Hill

The man smelled. 1 could smell him from the other side of myoffice wben be came in. Mr jules Arnthor's driver. He gave meone ofMr Amtbor's cards, but 1had seen one before - in a moreinteresting place. He also gave me a hundred dollars, from MrAmthor. Tbat was interesting.

1 locked the offiee and the man drove me over to StillwoodHeights, getting green lights all the way. Some guys are luekylike that.

We drove up a long driveway with bright red flowers downthe sides and stopped in front of a large lonely house right 00 topof the hill. The man opened the door for me and 1 got out. Heled me into the house, into a lift where his smell was even worsethan before, and up. There was a desk with a woman behind itwhen we stopped and tbe doors opened. She was the owner ofthe voiee 00 the telephone. 1 gave her the hundred dollars.

'Sorry, it was a niee thought but 1 can't take this. 1 have toknow what the job is before 1 take any money for it.'

She nodded, stood IIp and pressed a button on the wall. Ahidden door opened noiselessly and closed again after 1had gonethrough it without her. There was nobody in the dark room 1was now in. 1stood for thirry seconds wondering if someone waswatching me.

Then another door opened quietly 00 the other side of theroom, and a tall, thin, straight rnan in a black suit walked inquickly and sat down on a chair by a table in the middle of theroom,

'How can 1help you?' be asked. His eyes, deep and very black,seemed to look at me without seeing me, without feelinganything.

'You seern to forget why r came,' 1 said. 'By the way, 1 gavethat hundred dollars back to yom secretary. 1 wanted to know

29

why your card was found in the pocket of a dead man last night.'His face didn't change. "There are things I do not know,' he

said after a second or two, 'and this is one of them. Anybody cantake one of my cards.'

I almost believed him. Almost, but not quite. 'Then why didyou send me a hundred dollars?' I asked.

'M Y dear Mr Marlowe,' he said coldly, '1 am not a fool. 1 am ina difficuIt business, always in danger from doctors who do notbelieve in my work as a psychiatrist. I like to know why peopleare asking questions about me.'

So I toId him the whole story of my meeting with Marriottand about Marriott's murder. Nothing changed in his face.

Then 1 had another idea. 1 asked: 'Do you know a Mrs GrayIetoo, by any chance?'

He did. She had seen him about some probIem once. That'swhat I liked about this job - everyone knew everyone. Marriott,Grayle and now Amthor. I was sitting there feeling pleased withmyself when suddenly all the lights went out. The room was asdark as death.

1 kicked my chair back and stood up, but ir was no good. 1 wastoo slow. 1 sme11ed the man behind me just before he took me bythe throat and lifted me into the air. I stopped breathing. Theonly good thing about that was that I couldn't sme11 him anymore.

A voice said softly: 'Let him breathe - a little.'The fingers round my throat loosened and I fought my way

free from them just in time for something hard to hit me on themouth. I tasted blood. The voice said: 'Get him on his feet,

Stupid mano I think he can stand on his own now,'

The lights went on again and the arms dropped away. 1 stood,shaking my head, trying to think straight. Then 1 went for thesmile on Amthor's face with everything 1 had in my right armo Itwasn't too bad. 1 hit the smile straight in the rniddle. Amthor

30

looked surprised, very angry, and hurto Suddenly there was a gunin his hand.

'Sit down, fool,' he said, pointing it at me. Blood was comingout ofhis nose, 1 sat down near the table,

Suddenly, everything in my head went black. Maybe 1 went tosleep just like that, with the nasty thin man in the black suitpointing his gun at me. 1 wasn't too sure when 1 thought about itlater.

•When 1 woke up, 1 was in a small room with white walls and nowindow. My throat felt as if someone had jumped on it and 1couldri't see clearly. It was as if there was smoke in front of myeyes, fi11ing the room. I was in a bed. I began to remember things:Amthor and the man who sme11ed, breaking Amthor's nose.That made me feel better. But then they must have given mesome sort of drug to knock me out, or to make me taIk, and now1 was having a hard time coming out of it.

I sat up on the bed and put my feet on the floor, I started towalk across the little room. It wasri't easy. It was as in had drunktoo mucho But slowIy the smoke started to clear from in front ofmy eyes. I walked and walked and walked round the room, withmy knees shaking but my head getting clearer a11the time.

There was a bottle of whisky on a small table in one comerbut it smelled funny, more drugs in it maybe, so 1 didn't take adrink. But 1 couId use it another way. 1 picked it up, went over tothe door and shouted 'Fire! Fire!' Steps carne running, a key waspushed into the lock and the doorjumped open. 1was flat againstthe wall to one side and I hit him with the bottle as he carne in-a small, square, strong man in a white coat. Another friendIypsychiatrist, maybe. He was out cold on the floor, with funny-smelling whisky and pieces ofbroken bottle all over him. I wentthrough his pockets and took his keys, then I tied hirn to the bed

31

'Sit down.íool,' he said, pointing his gun at me.

with his white coat. One ofhis keys opened the cupboard in thecomer of the room and all my clothes were in there. So was mygun, but someone had kindly taken all the bullets out of it.

1 locked the man in the room and went quietly across thecarpet, listening to the silence of the house and holding theempty gun in front of me. There was an open door, with a lighton in the room,just in front of me. 1 heard aman cough. Verycarefully 1 looked into the room. He was reading a newspaper.1 could only see the side of his face - he needed a shave. ButMr MooseMalloy was having a nice comfortable time hidingin this place, wherever it was. It was time for me to get out,though, to go far away, fast, so 1 left him there and movedquietly on.

•1 walked on quietly through the empty house, past rooms withwhite walls and medicine bottles and metal tables with instru-ments on them. 1 saw a dock which told me it was almostmidnight but 1didri't meet any ofthe Iovely people who workedin the place. At last, 1 came to the front door. It wasn't locked. 1walked out into the night.

It was a cool night, no moon. The house was on the comer ofa street. The sign said Descanso Street. 1started to walk as fast as 1could, listening for the scream of police cars coming to take meback there, but nothing happened.

1 knew 1 was somewhere near the address Anne Riordan hadtold me for her apartrnent, at 819 25th Street. 1 worked my wayacross the streets towards it, and then realized 1 was still holdingmy gun in my hand. 1put it away fast and kept on walking. Thefresh air helped; 1 started to feel a bit better.

The light was still on at number 819, so 1rang the belloA voicefrom behind the door said: 'Who is it?'

'Marlowe.'

33

._-- -~---_._-- .---- _ .._._- ----_._-~._._------ -~_.~--------_. -------

'My God!' she críed. 'You look like a ghost.'

The door opened and Anne Riordan stood there looking atme. Her eyes went wide and frightened.

'My God!' she cried. 'You look like a ghost.'

Chapter 8 Brains Behind the Business

1 was half-sitting and half-Iying in a deep chair in her comfort-able living-room with its pleasant furniture and curtains. Annesat opposite, her eyes dark and full of worry. She had made methree cups of black coffee and two eggs with some toast and 1had told her some of the story, but not all of it. I had not told herthe bit about Moose Malloy.

'Amthor's a nasty, hard guy,' 1 said. 'But I dori't think he'sclever enough to be the brains of a jewel gang. Perhaps I'm

34

wrong, but my guess is that I wouldn't have got out ofhis littlehospital if he was boss of a gang like that. I' d be dead.'

'But he's frightened of something, isn't he? He doesn't likethe questions you're asking.'

I nodded. '1 think Marriott carried Arnthor's card in hispocket that night exactly because he wanted it to be found ifanything happened to him. So we know that the jewel robberyhad something to do with Marriott's murder and I'm beginningto think Amthor had something to do with the jewel robbery.But 1 don't think he 's the top man.'

Her smile was warm but as sharp as a razor at the same time. '1forgot you were such a great detective. You get blood ail overyour face, you get yourself locked up in a hospital for two days,shot fuil of drugs, and after ail that you arrive at the most obviousanswer. Wonderful!'

1 stood up. 'Yeah. I'm a little slow and tired tonight. Wouldyou be kind enough to drive me to a taxi stand? I need a goodnight's sleep so that I can think out a better answer. And 1 don'twant to stay anywhere too near those guys in that hospital.People round there don't seem to like me too much.'

She went quieto 'Yo u could stay here and .. .''Yo u promise you'lllock your doar?'She went red and stood up. 'Sometimes 1 think you're the

greatest thing I've ever seen and sometimes 1 think you'rethe worst, the lowest - you're sick.'

She walked out of the room fast and came back with her coaton, her red hair looking as angry as her face. She drove me allthe way home, silent and angry, and when she dropped me at thedoor of my apartment she said goodbye in a frozen voice. Shedrove away before 1 had my keys out of my pocket.

•In the morning, 1 felt a lot better. My head still hurt and my

35

tongue stilI felt dry and sticky inside my mouth, but 1had knownworse mornings. My left foot felt fine. It didri't hurt at all. So 1kicked the corner of the bed with it on my way to the bathroom.1was just calling myself some very rude names when there was aloud knock on the door.

Police Detective Randall stood there - brown suit, hat, veryclean and tidy, and a nasty look in his eye. He pushed the doorand 1 stood back. He carne in and looked around.

'Where've you been, Marlowe? Wanted to talk to you.''I've been sick. In a hospital.' I lit a cigarette. 'And I haveri't

had my morning coffee yet. I'rn not feeling too friendly.''1 thought 1 told you to keep out of this investigation, leave it

alone, didn't 1? 1 could make trouble for you, but I haveri't. Youknowwhy?'

'Yeah. You couldn't find me.'Very slowly he took a packet of cigarettes from his pocket,

trying to control himself. His hand was shaking when he lit hismatch. 1went out to the kitchen to make some coffee. He didn'tlike that either but he folIowed me out.

'This jewel gang has been around Hollywood for the last tenyears,' he said. "This time they went too faroKilIed aman. 1 think1know why.'

1 got the cream from the refrigerator, poured two cups ofcoffee and we sat down.

'Was that ajoke about being in hospital?' he asked.'No. 1 ran into some trouble over at Stillwood Heights and

some kind people put me in a hospitaljust over the line, in BayCity. Place for drink and drugs problems. Nice little place. Shotme full of drugs and kept me there for two days until 1woke upand walked out to see a friend.'

'Bay City?' he said. 'Man named Jules Amthor? Why did youtake that card, Marlowe? You should have told me about it. Yousee, your friend over in Bay City, the redhead, she told me. She

36

likes you. She was hoping to help you out of a tight corner withme. Her father was a police officer, rernember.'

'Ah, h ell! Trying to help me. Nice girl. N ot my type, though. 'He smiled his first smile of the day. He probably only let

himself have four smiles a day. 1 could see he didri't believe me,so 1went on: "This is what 1 think, if it's any use to you, Randall.1 think Marriott was a b1ackmai1er of rich women. Mrs Grayletold me so. But 1 think he was a1so the finger man for the jewelgang, the boy who could point them in the right direction, tellthem where the really expensive pieces were and exactly whenand where to move in on his lady- friends when he took themout to dinner. You see, in this Grayle robbery, Marríott had takenMrs Grayle to the Trocadero and he was driving the car on theírway home. He could choose the streets they took and the gangcould follow. 1 think they killed Marriott because people werestarting to put two and two together about him, and the answerwas four. He wasri't useful to them any more, so this was his lastjob for them. But Marriott guessed something was going wrongand got frightened. He asked me to go along with him and hehad the little trick of Amthor's card in his pocket. He was tryingto show us who the real brains behind the business were - a guyquite nasty enough and elever enough, and also a guy who couldget information about rich women when they came to talk tohim about their prob1ems. A very friendly psychiatrist. AndMarriott's trick with Amthor's card worked, too, didn't it?'

'1 think your ideas about Marriott may be right,' he said. 'Butyou haven'r told me the whole story, everything you know, haveyou, Marlowe? Marriott had twenty-three thousand dollars inthe bank. That's a 10t of money. But there's also the little matterof that nice house he owned up on West 54th Place. Number1644. That interest you at all?' He picked up a spoon and startedto turn it in his hand. 1 didn't answer; just looked at him. Hewent on: 'You see, 1 can put two and two together as well,

1I

37

Marlowe. And that brings a large ex-prisoricr called MooseMalloy into the picture, doesn't it?'

'I'm listening,' 1 said.'So 1 called up Detective Nulty, who 1 hear is investigating

that one, and he told me you were trying to find a girl calledVelma something, Malloy's girl. He said you'd be en to see awoman by the name of Jessie Florian. And her address was -guess where? - 1644 West 54th Place. The place Marriottowned. So here 1 am, early this sunny morning, asking you a fewquestions and you're not helping me much.'

1 went over to my jacket, hanging on the back of a chair. 1wondered if they' d taken my two photos out at the hospitalplace, but they were both still there: the one of Velma Valentofrom Mrs Florian's box and the one ofMrs Grayle, which AnneRiordan had given me. 1 gave the one ofVelma to Randall first.He studied it carefully. Then 1 put the one of Mrs Grayle next

to it.He looked at it and nodded. 'For twenty million I' d marry her

myself,' he said.'There's another thing 1 ought to tell you,' 1 said. 'This

hospital 1 was in, clown on Descanso in Bay City. They'rerunning a hiding place for gangsters there too. 1 saw MooseMalloy there last night. In a room.'

Randall sat very still, watching me. 'Sure?' he asked.'1 didn't make a mistake,' 1 said. 'Even though 1 was full of

drugs. It was him all right.'He stood up. 'Let's go and see this Mrs Plorian together, you

and me.'1 told him everything 1 knew about this business while we

were on our way.

38

Chapter 9 The Montecito

The old woman in the house next door was still watching every-thing that moved in the street and her eyes were just as sharp asever. She didn't have anything new to tell us so we walked acrossto the next house. The same washing was still hanging stiffiy onthe washing line at the side of the house. There was no answerwhen we rang the bell and none when we knocked at the door.The door was locked this time. We went round to the back door,That was locked too but Randall kicked it open and we walkedpast a row of empty whisky bottles in the kitchen, into theliving-room. The place smelled horrible. The radio was off.

'Nice radio,' said Randall.Mrs Florian was in the bedroom. She hadn't been dead for

very long. Long enough to be completely dead, though. Randalllooked at her.

'This was done the quiet way,' he said. 'Just one large pair ofhands round her neck. Enorrnous hands. Look at the marks onher neck.'

'You look at them,' I said and turned away, feeling ill again.

+

We went back to Randall's office at the police station, andRandall made me make a full report on the story 1 had told himin the car and on the murder we had found at West 54th Place.I signed four copies.

'Now let me tell you something, Marlowe,' he said, sittingback in his chair. 'Her neck was broken first and then the mur-derer started to hit her. Why did he hit her when she was alreadydead? Answer: he was angry with her, A thousand dollars waspaid to the person who gave Malloy's name to the police afterthe Great Bend bankjob eight years ago, and 1 think the Floriansgot some of that money. Malloy may have thought the same

39

She hadn't been deadfor very long Long enough lo becompletely dead, thou,~h.

thing. Maybe he was just trying to make her tell him who gavethe police his name. It was Malloy who killed her all right, even ifit was a mistake. Perhaps he's just too strong.'

'Perhaps,' I answered.'Now here's sorne advice for you, Marlowe, from a friend.' He

used another one ofhis four smiles for the day on me. 'Go homeand forget this whole investigation completely. Leave it alone. Ifyou don't, you'll find yourself deep in trouble you won't be ableto climb out of. Understand?'

I said 1 understood. He looked at me for ten seconds, then hesmiled again. He was doing a lot of smiling that day. Enough fora whole week.

1 stood up and said goodbye, went home to get my car and atesome lunch in Hollywood before 1 drove over to Bay City. It wasa beautiful afternoon, sunny but cool,

•I went to see the Chief of Police, a fat man named John Wax,who sat doing nothing in a big office marked 'Prívate'. 1 told him1 was working for Mrs Grayle and that 1 was trying to find outmore about Jules Amthor, the psychiatrist, and about the oddhospital for drink and drugs problems right there under his nosein Bay Ciry. Could he help? It was the name Grayle which madehim sit up straight in his chair, He asked me to go and lock thedoor, pulled out a bottle from somewhere in his desk and pouredtwo drinks. He looked hurt as he drank his drink but in the endhe agreed to help me in any way he could,

He sent aman down with me to look at the hospital onDescanso Street. It was a pleasant place by daylight, with a gardenfull of flowers of all sorts. It was quiet and still in the earlyafternoon sun, Outside, two men were studying a tall tree, as ifthey were wondering how to move it, and another was sitting ina car down the street reading a newspaper. My friendly Bay City

41

policeman just drove straight past the house. He wasn't smiling.'Los Angeles police. What the hell are they doing down here?

This is our part of town, our side of the line. The Chief won't bepleased.'

He drove round the next comer and stopped.'Who are the big guys in crime down here in Bay City?' I

asked him. 'What kind of problenis do you face down here?'He didn't answer straight away. Then he said very quietIy, so

that 1 could onIy just hear: 'Man named Laird Brunette runs thistown. Runs all the crime in Bay City. Owns those two gamblingships out in the ocean there, too,just beyond where we can reachthem. We can't touch his gambling business or any other businessout there ... ' He stopped. He' d said enough. His eyes started toworry that he'd said too mucho

'Thanks,' I said and gave him my hand. He had given me mynext idea.

•I found a hotel room down by the waterfront in Bay City andwaited until it was dark. I could hear people talking together andcars passing along the street outside. I thought about the wholestory of Malloy and Velma, Marriott and the beautiful MrsGrayle, the attractive Miss Anne Riordan, the slow and stupidNulty, the fat and lazy John Wax and the clever and deadlyDetective Randall. I thought of psychiatrists and jewel gangs andhard men who took me by the throat and tried to stop mebreathing. 1 thought about a lot of things. It got darker. 1 neededa drink, I needed a holiday in the sun, I needed ahome in thecountry and I needed a friend, but all I had was a coat and a hatand a gun. I got up, washed my face and got ready for the night'swork in front of me.

Outside, 1 walked slowly along the seafront and back again,watching the faces in the crowd and the lights of the twogambling ships out there on the dark ocean. A hamburger seller

42

was shouting 'Get hungry, friends, get hungry! Nice fathamburgers here. Get hungry!' I stopped and asked him thenames of the two ships.

'Montecíto and Royal Crown,' he said, looking at me withcareful eyes. 'Why are you interested?' .

I laughed and waited while he served a young couple withhamburgers. Then he carne close and said quietIy: 'You want tohide out there? It'd cost you a lot, friendo Not less than fifty totake you out there. The Montecito is the one you' d want.'

1 left him wondering why 1 had asked him at all and walkedfurther along the seafront, found a place to have dinner and satdown with a drink. The dinner tasted like a postmari's sack andthe waiter looked as if he' d cut my throat for a dollar. But thedrink was good.

•1 took a water-taxi out to the Montecíto for a quarter of a dollar. Itwas a long way out over the dark sea. 1 stared at the orange lightsofBay City getting further and further away, disappearing nowand then as the boat rode down between two waves. When wearrived, a dark-eyed young man in a blue jacket stepped in frontof me as I went up the steps.

'Sorry, mis ter. No guns on the boat.''It's part of my clothes,' I told him. 'I'rn here to see Mr

Brunette on business.'"Neverheard ofhim,' he said, with a face like stone. 'Get back

in the taxi and get on your way - fastoWe're not in Bay City now.We're not even in California, so move.'

1 got back in the boat. Blue Jacket watched me with a silentsmile. The taximan didn't saya word the whole way back. As Igot off at the waterfront, he handed me a quarter- dollar. 'Someother night, maybe,' he said in a tired voice.

There was a very big guy with red hair, dirty shoes and tornsailor's trousers in the crowd waiting for the next taxi. He didn't

43

'Get back in the taxi and gel on your way - fasto )

flt in at all. As I went past him, he took my elbow. I stopped.'What's the matter with you?' I asked. I wasn't feeling polite,

even though he was three inches taller than me and heavier too.'Couldn't get onto the ship?' he asked between his teeth.

'Trouble getting on with that gun under your coat, huh?' Helooked up and down the waterfront. 'I can help, maybe. Can bedone, you know. Fifty dollars.' I started to walk away but he kepthold of my elbow.

'OK. Twenry-five.for a friend.''I dori't have any friends,' 1 said, and walked away. He didn't

try to stop me. He followed me slowly along the waterfront,through the crowds. I stopped to watch some people playingbingo and he came up next to me - a handsome guy with blueeyes, as big as Moose Malloy but he looked younger and faster onhis feet.

He said into my ear: 'What's your business? Private investiga-tion? 1 was on the police here once. 1 can recognize guys likeyou.' He smiled.

'Know aman named Brunette, then?' I asked. The smilestayed on his face.

'I can borrow a very quiet boat, friend, and there's a placealong there, with no lights, where we can leave and come inagain without anyone seeing us.' He pointed along the water-front with his chino '1 know where there's a delivery door on theMontecito which you can open and get in, too.'

1 got my wallet out and gave him rwenry-five in new notes.He disappeared quietly among the crowd, with a smile. 'Give meten minutes. My narne's Red,' was all he said.

The noise of the bars and crowds died away behind me, and 1found the nice dark place along the waterfront ten minutes laterwitb no trouble. Tbere were some steps down to tbe sea. 1 wentdown thern as carefully as a cat and a big black sbape suddenlyappeared out of the darkness next to me. He pointed down to a

45

boat riding 00 the sea with its eogine going almost noiselesslyand said: 'OK. Get in.'

We moved out into the blackness of the sea and the wavesagain. It was not the happiest mornent of my life. As we went outacross the dark water, 1 told this big frieodly giant why 1 wasthere, that 1 wanted to talk to aman called Laird Brunette, that 1wanted to fmd an ex-prisoner and murderer ca11ed MooseMalloy who might be hiding out on the Montecito. 1 told himmore than 1meant to, but he listened and thought a bit and thensaid: 'Yeah. Brunette runs all the gambling, the drugs and thewomen in this town. Maybe he runs that hospital they put youin, too. But 1 just don't think Brunette would be behind thatjewel robbery you were talking about. He's big time, and that'stoo small. 1 don't think he had anything to do with that. And 1don't think Brunette would hide aman like Malloy,' he said,'unless there's something other than money behind it which isworrying him.' He moved his hands on the wheel of the boatand said: '1 don't like these guys at a11.1 rea11yhate them, in fact.'

So 1 had a friendo We moved quietly in towards the enormousblack side of the Montecito. There were two big iron doors in theside of the ship,just higher than our little boato We stopped nearthem and rode up and down on the waves, listening. Everythingwas quiet except the sound of water and the music IIp above us.

A voicc next to my ear said quietly: 'Frorn here we go straightup through the engine-room. There'11 probably be one uuy inothere. Might have a guo, but that's 00 problem. Then I'I1 showyou the way up to the gambling rooms. Tbat's where you'regoing to find Brunette. 1'11wait for you in the engine-room. Youmay need some help up there.'

'You got family on this ship or something?' 1 asked, but he wasalready in front of me, the rats running away from his enormousfeer in the darkness. The man in the engine-roorn was noproblem, as Red had promised. He hit him hard, once, andcaught him as he fell. Then he showed me the stairs up to themusic and the people.

'How long wi11you be?' he asked.'Dori't know. An hour or less, 1 guess. But don't wait for me.

Get out now. I'rn going to make some trouble on this ship.' And1 went away up the steps.

Chapter 10 'My Little Velma'

Red threw a rope up over the side of the Montecíto and pulledhimself up quietly to the two iron doors. There was a sound ofmetal over my head and then 1 started up the rope. It, was thelongestjourney I've ever made. Ir finished inside the oily, bitter-smelling darkness of the ship with rats running across the boxesand ropes on the floor. He hit him hard, once, and caucht him as he feZ/.

46 47

b

•1 carne out on an open walkway on the ocean side of the ship.There was aman with a small machine-gun in the shadows there.1went up behind him silently and put my gun in his back.

'1 have a very loud gun,' 1 said. 'But it doesri't have to go off.All 1 want is to talk to Brunette. Now why dori't you show me

the way nice and peacefully?'He took a moment or two to think about all that. Then he

said: 'OK. Follow me across to that door. We're going down tothe offices past the gambling tables.'

We went into the bright lights inside the ship and through thegambling rooms, where sixty or seventy people were trying notto lose their shirts.l put my gun away under my coat as we went.

Two quiet men in black dinner jackets carne through a dooron the other side of a bar and came towards uso

'People round here don't seem to follow their orders,' the

short one said.'You're Brunette,' I said suddenly.'Of course.' He turned and opened a door behind him. 'In

here. We can talk more easily.'I followed him through into a cornfortable small office with

photographs on the tables and a small private bar in one comer.

He sat down.'He has a gun,' Brunette said.A hand took the gun away from me and put it down on

Brunette's desk.'Anything more, boss?' a voice asked.'Not now.' He turned to me and said: 'Who are you and what

do you want?''My name's Marlowe. I'rn a private detective and 1 want to

talk to aman called Moose Malloy. I'rn investigating a murder,the murder of aman named Marriott. That murder hassomething to do with anothcr one - of an old woman - which

48

was done by Malloy. Malloy was staying at a hospital for drugproblems over in Bay City, hiding from the law, and now he'sdisappeared. 1 think he could he hiding here on your nicegambling boat.'

'You're simple,' Brunette said. 'Why should I hide gangstershere? I'm in another business. Sorry, but 1 can't do anything foryou. But l' d like to know how you got onto my ship.'

'1just can't remember.''You do take some terrible chances, Mr Marlowe.' He smiled

a nasty, cold smile.'Just give this to Malloy first,' I said, and I reached across his

desk, took a card and wrote five words on it. 'lt'll mean sorne-thing important to him.'

'OK,' he said. 'If I can get this to Malloy, 1 will. I don't knowwhy I'rn doing it for you.' He pushed my gun back across thedesk to me and stood up. 'But 1 promise nothing, Marlowe.' Heput out his hand and I shook it. I went back to Bay City theordinary way, in a water-taxi. There was already a new man atthe top of the steps - Blue Jacket was gone. 1wondered ifhe wasalready dead or working down in the engine-room for Iettingme get onto his boss's ship with my gun.

Back on the waterfront 1 found Red.'Get your man?' he asked.'No. But I think Brunette wiU find a way to get a message to

him for me. Could take hours; could take days. 1might never findhim - alive.'

•1 drove back to my apartment in Hollywood and called theGrayle number. Mrs Grayle agreed to come over to my apart-rncnt and go out somewhere for a drink. Then 1!ay down on mybed and tried not to go to sleep. I failed, though. 1 could haveslept for a week,

1 woke up slowly and stared at the light of the lamp on the

49

ceiling. Something moved gently in the room. Moose Malloy,with a gun in his hand and his hat pushed back on his head. Hesaw me open my eyes.

'Glad you came over,' 1 said.'Your door wasn't locked so 1 carne on in. You waiting for

visitors?''A lady. She may not come.But I'd prefer to talk to you.'A smile touched the corners ofhis mouth.'I'd like to talk about the killing of a woman.Jessie Florian. 1

think that was abad rnistake. You didn't mean to kill her; you justwanted her to tell you something. That's a11,isri't it? You wantedher to tell you where Velma was, but she didn't even know.Velma was too clever for her. '

The srnile had gone from his mouth. He kept quietoThere was a knock on the door. 1 got up from the bed and

went through to the living-room to open it. Ma110ystayed in thebedroom, in the dark. She stood there half-srniling, beautiful, in ahigh-necked white evening dress with deep, red stones circlingthe creamy white of her neck. Her smile died when she saw mein my old work suit and her eyes went cold. 1 stood to one sideand held the door open. She walked in past me and then turnedquickly, annoyed.

'Have a drink,' 1 said. 'Then let's talk. Not about stolendiamond rings, but about murder.'

1went through to the kitchen and rnixed some drinks, leavingher staring at my back. When 1 came back, she was sitting coo11yin my best chair, blowing smoke from her cigarette up at theceiling.

'Persona11y, 1 don't believe that Lindsay Marriott was thefinger man for ajewel gang, though that's what the police seemto think,' 1began. 'And 1 don't think he was a blackmailer either.Funny, isri't it, Mrs Grayle? And 1 don't think he was killed byany gang, or that he was going to Purissima Canyon that night to

50

buy back a diarnond ring for you, 1 don't think a diamond ringwas ever stolen, in fact. 1 think he thought he was going thereto help someone with a murder, but in fact he was going there todie. Someone wanted Lin Marriott dead.'

Her smile was like broken glass now. Suddenly she wasn'tbeautiful any more; she was wild and very dangerous. All she saidwas: 'And who did he think he was going to help murder, MrMarlowe?'

'Me. Philip Marlowe. And 1'11te11you why. Simply because 1was trying to find a girl who used to sing at a nightclub over onMain Street, a place called Florian's. Her boyfriend was lookingfor her too - an ex-prisoner named Moose Malloy. Perhaps 1washelping Malloy find this girl, and 1 was starting to ask all thewrong questions, so he was told 1 had to die.'

She nodded and said, 'Very interesting, if 1 knew what youwere talking about.'

'And you do,' 1 said.We stared at each other, She had her right hand inside her

little white handbag now. 1 knew what she held in it but shewasn't ready yet. These things take time.

'Let's stop playing games, shall we, Mrs Grayle? A girl whocame up the hard way eventually married a very, very rich manand went to live with him at his place near the ocean. AsterDrive. But one day, an old woman recognized her and this oldwoman started to blackmail our beautiful young lady. The oldwoman had to be kept quieto Marriott helped his beautiful friendby paying some money to the old woman on the first of everymonth, special delivery, but he and the old woman were the onlytwo people who knew the secreto Some day, the young woman'sboyfriend was going to get out of prison and come looking forhis girlfriend, and she didri't want him to find her. So when thisprivate investigator started pushing his nose in and askingquestions, Marriott had to die, even though he thought he was

51

'You sent me away.fi:n eight years. My little Velma.' She shot himJive times.

going to help murder me. He knew too mucho He was the realdanger, not me. So you killed him, didri't you, Mrs Grayle?'

Her gun came out then. She pointed it at me and smiled. 1 didnothing. But Moose Malloy stepped through the door of thebedroom with a larger gun in his hand. He didri't look at me atall. He spoke softly: 'Thought 1 knew the voice. 1 tried toremember that voice for eight years while 1 was away. 1 likedyour hair better when it was red, though. Hello, baby.'

She turned the gun on him.'Get away from me,' she said.'And 1just realized in there who it was that gave my name to

the police after the Great Bend bank job. You. Little Velma. Yousent me away for eight years. My little Velma.'

She shot him five times. He stayed standing, then he fell facedown. She ran to the door and out. 1 didn't try to stop her. 1turned Malloy over carefully and put a pillow un del' his head, butafter five shots in the body even Moose Malloy wasri't going tolive very long. Then I called Randall at his home and told himwhat had happened.

The police cars were there with a doctor a couple of minuteslater and the doctor said he had a chanceo 1 knew he wouldn'twant it. He didn't. He died in the night .

•It took three months to find Velma. Randa11 told me the details.She was hiding in the most obvious place. One night, a detectivewith a good memory walked into a nightclub in New York andheard a singer he liked there. But something about her face madehim go back and look at the 'Wanted' photographs on the wallofhis office. She was there, a11right, so he went back to the cluband showed her her name and picture on the listoBut he was toocareless. She pulled a gun out ofher bag when he was taking herin, and shot him three times. Then she used her last two bulletson herself. Velma was tired of running away .

•

ACTIVITIES

Chapters 1-2

Before you read1 Philip Marlowe is a famous fictional detective. What other famous

detectives from films or books can you think of? In your opinion,what qualities does a successful private detective need?

2 Find these words in your dictionary. They are all in the first two

chapters:bang guy investigation whiskya AII of these words are nouns. Which one can also be used as a

verb?b Which word describes:

(i) a drink? (ii) a detective's work? (iii) aman? (iv) a noise?e What adjective and verb can be made from

investigation?

After you read3 What do you know about these characters? Match the names on

the left with the correct description on the right.a Philip Marlowe is a poor policernan.b Moose Malloy used to own a nightclub.e Jessie Florian used to sing in a nightclub.d Mike Florian breaks a man's neck.e Detective Nulty isn't very busy.f Velma Valento lost her husband six years ago.

4 Are these sentences true or false? Correct the false ones.a Moose Malloy has been in prison for eight years.b Velma sometimes visited Moose in prison.e Malloy had planned to kill the boss of the nightclub.d Marlowe agrees to look for Velma because he needs the

money.e The man who works opposite the nightclub tells Marlowe where

to find Jessie Florian.

54

Chapters 3-4

Before you read5 What is b/ackmai/? Check the word in your dictionary.6 At the end of Chapter 2, Marlowe goes out to his car.

Who is he going to visit, and why?

After you read7 What is unusual about Jessie Florian's tront room? Why do you

think this interests Marlowe?8 How does Jessie feel when Marlowe te lis her that Moose is out of

prison? Why?

9 On page 15, Lindsay Marriott says: 'Since 1 don't know these men,I thought .. .' but he doesn't finish the sentence. What do you thinkhe is going to say before Marlowe interrupts him?

10 According to Marriott, why does he have to give these men$8,000?

11 How does Marlowe meet the girl with the gun? What does shewant to show him?

Chapters 5-6

Before you read12 What is a psychiatrist? Find the word in your dictionary.

Practise the pronunciation.13 Look at the picture on page 18. Who is the dead body? If you were

Marlowe, what would you do now?

After you read14 What is the connection between Lindsay Marriott and:

a Mrs Grayle?b Moose Malloy?e Jules Amthor?

15 Work in pairs. Act out the conversation between Marlowe andRandall on page 20.

55

Student A: You are Randal!. You have to solve Marriott's murder.Ask Marlowe to tell you everything he knows. You thinkthat the story is silly, and that Marlowe is hiding some-thing, so check his story carefully. Try to find out whatinformation Marlowe is hiding from you.

Student 8: You are Marlowe. Tell Randall the truth about whathappened with you and Marriott, but don't say anythingabout Anne Riordan.

16 What information does Anne Riordan find out? How does shediscover this?

17 Why does Mrs Grayle want to see Marlowe? What informationdoes she try to hide from him?

bingo gambling rope waterfrontWhich of these words would be important toa a sailor?b a mountain-climber?e someone who enjoys games of luck?d someone who wants to win a lot of money?

23 Look at the picture on page 40. Who is dead, do you think? Whoare the two men, and what might they be thinking?

Befare you read18 At the end of Chapter 6, Marlowe sits down to wait.

What is he waiting for, do you think?

After you read

24 How are the following things important to the story?a $1,000 e a white handbagb The Montecito f a pillow

e $25 9 a photograph on a walld a card

25 How are the following new characters important to the story?a John Wax?b Laird Brunette?e Red?

26 Marlowe discovers a lot of secrets in the last chapter.What secrets does he discover abouta Lindsay Marriott?b Jessie Florian?e Mrs Grayle?

27 What does Moose Malloy suddenly realize just before he dies?28 At the end of the story, which of the criminals does Marlowe feel

most sorry for, do you think? How does he show this? Do youagree with Marlowe?

Chapters 7-8

After you read19 Why does Marlowe think that

a Jules Amthor isn't the top man in the jewel gang?b Marriott carried Amthor's card in his pocket?e Marriott helped the gang to steal Mrs Grayle's diamond?d the gang killed Marriott?e Marriott asked him (Marlowe) to go with him to meet the gang at

Purissima Canyon?f Jules Amthor ís connected to the criminal world?

20 What new information does Detective Randall give Marlowe aboutLindsay Marriott?

21 Detective Randall tells Marlowe that Anne Riordan likes him. Whatdoes Marlowe say about Anne? Do you believe him?

Chapters 9-10

Writing

29 You are Philip Marlowe. Write a report for the Bay City Police aboutthese people. Who killed them, why, where and when?a Lindsay Marriottb Jessie Floriane Moose Malloy

Before you read22 Find these words in your dictionary:

56 57

30 Read the first paragraph on page 1 again and lines 10-14 onpage 53. Think about Moose Malloy's real feelings. Write his story.Begin like this: 'Eight years ago I .. .' Put his thoughts and feelings,as well as his actions, into the story.

31 You are Philip Marlowe. You haven't seen Anne Riordan since shedrove you home (page 35). She was angry when she said goodbyeto you. Write a letter to her, telling her what happened after you lefther. Thank her for all the help she gave you, apologize for makingher angry, and tell her that you would really like to see her again.

32 You are the Bay City Chief of Police, John Wax. You decide to bringin Laird Brunette and Jules Amthor. Write your reports on thesetwo men. Talk about their criminal activity in general, and theirimportance in the Velma Valento/Moose Malloy case.

33 Many crimes are committed in this story: blackmail, murder,robbery, kidnap. Write about crime in your country. Which crimesare the most common, and which are the most serious? Howare criminals punished for these crimes? Do you think thatpunishment in your country is too light or too heavy?

34 Red is having a drink with a friend in a waterfront bar, waiting forMarlowe to return from the Montecito. This is the beginning oftheir conversation:Friend: What's the matter, Red? You look nervous tonight. What's

the problem?Red: I've had a really strange adventure tonight. You'lI never

believe me.Friend: Tell me about it.Write the res! of the conversation be!ween them. Red tells hisfriend everything that has happened so far, what he hopesMarlowe is doing on the ship, and what he will do if Marlowedoesn't come back soon.

Answers for Ihe Aclivilies in Ihis book are published in our free resource packs forleachers, Ihe Penguin Readers Faclsheels, or avaifable on a separale sheet. Pleasewrile lo your local Pearson Educalion office or lo: Markeling Deparlmenl. PenguinLongman Publishing. 5 Bentinck Slreel, London W1 M 5RN.