The Adventures Of Sam Spade - Hammett Dashiell (лучшие бесплатные книги TXT) 📗

He patted her shoulder and squeezed her to him. He was looking questioningly at Spade and Dundy.

“Your brother died this afternoon,” Dundy said. “He was murdered.”

Mrs. Bliss caught her breath. Bliss's arm tightened around his niece with a little jerk, but there was not yet any change in his face. “Murdered?” he repeated uncompre-hendingly.

“Yes.” Dundy put his hands in his coat pockets. “You were here this afternoon.”

Theodore Bliss paled a little under his sunburn, but said, “I was,” steadily enough.

“How long?”

“About an hour. I got here about half past two and—“ He turned to his wife. “It was almost half past three when I phoned you, wasn't it?”

She said, “Yes.”

“Well, I left right after that.”

“Did you have a date with him?” Dundy asked.

“No. I phoned his office”—he nodded at his wife—“and was told he'd left for home, so I came on up. I wanted to see him before Elise and I left, of course, and I wanted him to come to the wedding, but he couldn't. He said he was expecting somebody. We sat here and talked longer than I had intended, so I had to phone Elise to meet me at the Municipal Building.”

After a thoughtful pause, Dundy asked, “What time?”

“That we met there?” Bliss looked inquiringly at his wife, who said, “It was just quarter to four.” She laughed a little. “I got there first and I kept looking at my watch.”

Bliss said very deliberately, “It was a few minutes after four that we were married. We had to wait for Judge Whitefield—about ten minutes, and it was a few more before we got started—to get through with the case he was hearing. You can check it up—Superior Court, Part Two, I think.”

Spade whirled around and pointed at Tom. “Maybe you'd better check it up.”

Tom said, “Oke,” and went away from the door.

“If that's so, you're all right, Mr. Bliss,” Dundy said, “but I have to ask you these things. Now, did your brother say who he was expecting?”

“No.”

“Did he say anything about having been threatened?”

“No. He never talked much about his affairs to anybody, not even to me. Had he been threatened?”

Dundy's lips tightened a little. “Were you and he on intimate terms?”

“Friendly, if that's what you mean.”

“Are you sure?” Dundy asked. “Are you sure neither of you held any grudge against the other?”

Theodore Bliss took his arm free from around his niece. Increasing pallor made his sunburned face yellowish. He said, “Everybody here knows about my having been in

San Quentin. You can speak out, if that's what you're getting at.”

“It is,” Dundy said, and then, after a pause, “Well?”

Bliss stood up. “Well, what?” he asked impatiently. “Did I hold a grudge against him for that? No. Why should I? We were both in it. He could get out; I couldn't. I was sure of being convicted whether he was or not. Having him sent over with me wasn't going to make it any better for me. We talked it over and decided I'd go it alone, leaving him outside to pull things together. And he did. If you look up his bank account you'll see he gave me a check for twenty-five thousand dollars two days after I was discharged from San Quentin, and the registrar of the National Steel Corporation can tell you a thousand shares of stock have been transferred from his name to mine since then.”

He smiled apologetically and sat down on the bed again. “I'm sorry. I know you have to ask things.”

Dundy ignored the apology. “Do you know Daniel Tal-bot?” he asked.

Bliss said, “No.”

His wife said, “I do; that is, I've seen him. He was in the office yesterday.”

Dundy looked her up and down carefully before asking, “What office?”

“I am—I was Mr. Bliss's secretary, and—”

“Max Bliss's?”

“Yes, and a Daniel Talbot came in to see him yesterday afternoon, if it's the same one.”

“What happened?”

She looked at her husband, who said, “If you know anything, for heaven's sake tell them.”

She said, “But nothing really happened. I thought they were angry with each other at first, but when they left together they were laughing and talking, and before they went Mr. Bliss rang for me and told me to have Trapper—he's the bookkeeper—make out a check to Mr. Tal-bot's order.”

“Did he?”

“Oh, yes. I took it in to him. It was for seventy-five hundred and some dollars.”

“What was it for?”

She shook her head. “I don't know.”

“If you were Bliss's secretary,” Dundy insisted, “you must have some idea of what his business with Talbot was.”

“But I haven't,” she said. “I'd never even heard of him before.”

Dundy looked at Spade. Spade's face was wooden. Dundy glowered at him, then put a question to the man on the bed: “What kind of necktie was your brother wearing when you saw him last?”

Bliss blinked, then stared distantly past Dundy, and finally shut his eyes. When he opened them he said, “It was green with—I'd know it if I saw it. Why?”

Mrs. Bliss said, “Narrow diagonal stripes of different shades of green. That's the one he had on at the office this morning.”

“Where does he keep his neckties?” Dundy asked the housekeeper.

She rose, saying, “In a closet in his bedroom. I'll show you.”

Dundy and the newly married Blisses followed her out.

Spade put his hat on the dressing table and asked Miriam Bliss, “What time did you go out?” He sat on the foot of her bed.

“Today? About one o'clock. I had a luncheon engagement for one and I was a little late, and then I went shopping, and then —” She broke off with a shudder.

“And then you came home at what time?” His voice was friendly, matter-of-fact.

“Some time after four, I guess.”

“And what happened?”

“I f-found Father lying there and I phoned—I don't know whether I phoned downstairs or the police, and then I don't know what I did. I fainted or had hysterics or something, and the first thing I remember is coming to and finding those men here and Mrs. Hooper.” She looked him full in the face now.

“You didn't phone a doctor?”

She lowered her eyes again. “No, I don't think so.”

“Of course you wouldn't, if you knew he was dead,” he said casually.

She was silent.

“You knew he was dead?” he asked.

She raised her eyes and looked blankly at him. “But he was dead,” she said.

He smiled. “Of course; but what I'm getting at is, did you make sure before you phoned?”

She put a hand to her throat. “I don't remember what I did,” she said earnestly. “I think I just knew he was dead.”

He nodded understandingly. “And if you phoned the police it was because you knew he had been murdered.”

She worked her hands together and looked at them and said, “I suppose so. It was awful. I don't know what I thought or did.”

Spade leaned forward and made his voice low and persuasive. “I'm not a police detective, Miss Bliss. I was engaged by your father—a few minutes too late to save him. I am, in a way, working for you now, so if there is anything I can do—maybe something the police wouldn't—“ He broke off as Dundy, followed by the Blisses and the housekeeper, returned to the room. “What luck?”

Dundy said, “The green tie's not there.” His suspicious gaze darted from Spade to the girl. “Mrs. Hooper says the blue tie we found is one of half a dozen he just got from England.”

Bliss asked, “What's the importance of the tie?”

Dundy scowled at him. “He was partly undressed when we found him. The tie with his clothes had never been worn.”

“Couldn't he have been changing clothes when whoever killed him came, and was killed before he had finished dressing?”

Dundy's scowl deepened. “Yes, but what did he do with the green tie? Eat it?”

Spade said, “He wasn't changing clothes. If you'll look at the shirt collar you'll see he must've had it on when he was choked.”

Tom came to the door. “Checks all right,” he told Dundy. “The judge and a bailiff named Kittredge say they were there from about a quarter to four till five or ten minutes after. I told Kittredge to come over and take a look at them to make sure they're the same ones.”