Wherever I went, whatever I did, this was what I would come back to. A blank wall in a meaningless room in a meaningless house.
On a dance floor half a dozen couples were throwing themselves around with the reckless abandon of a night watchman with arthritis.
Don’t kid yourself. You’re a dirty low-down detective. Kiss me.
I guess you can snap her garter any time you want to, without much of a struggle. But there’s one thing you can be sure of – you’re a late comer to the show.
An alcoholic, a real alcoholic, is not the same man at all. You can’t predict anything about him for sure except that he will be someone you never met before. Light.
Uh-huh. Could be,′ I said. It was a spot for a paragraph of lucid prose. Henry Clarendon IV would have obliged. I didn’t have a damn thing more to say.
You’re a full portion of what I don’t like,’ she said. ‘Get out of my way.’ I didn’t move. She didn’t move. We were both sitting down – and not even close to each other.
You were lucky about that gun. All the people we know have been playing with it, wiping prints off and putting them on. I even put a set on myself just to be fashionable.
She was quite a doll. She wore a white belted raincoat, no hat, a well-cherished head of platinum hair, booties to match the raincoat, a folding plastic umbrella, a pair of blue-gray eyes that looked at me as if I had said a dirty word.
Do you like orchids?’ ‘Not particularly,’ I said. The General half closed his eyes. ‘They are nasty things. Their flesh is too much like the flesh of men. And their perfume has the rotten sweetness of a prostitute.’ I.
Anybody home, son?” “You ought to know.” “How would I know?” “Go – yourself.” “That’s how people get false teeth.” He showed me his in a tight grin.
Javonen smiled – very slightly. Call it a down payment on a smile.
Ich blickte den Revolver an, und der Revolver blickte mich an.
The muzzle of the Luger looked like the mouth of the Second Street tunnel, but I didn’t move. Not being bullet proof is an idea I had had to get used to.
A few locks of dry white hair clung to his scalp, like wild flowers fighting for life on a bare rock.
I didn’t ask to see you. You sent for me. I don’t mind your ritzing me or drinking your lunch out of a Scotch bottle. I don’t mind your showing me your legs. They’re very swell legs and it’s a pleasure to make their acquaintance. I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners. They’re pretty bad. I grieve over them during the long winter evenings. But don’t waste your time trying to cross-examine me.
Rain filled the gutters and splashed knee-high off the sidewalk. Big cops in slickers that shone like gun barrels had a lot of fun carrying giggling girls across the bad places. The rain drummed hard on the roof of the car and the burbank top began to leak. A pool of water formed on the floorboards for me to keep my feet in. It was too early in the fall for that kind of rain.
I got back on the runway and took all of it and some of the hedge and gave the front door the heavy shoulder. This was foolish. About the only part of a California house you can’t put your foot through is the front door. All it did was hurt my shoulder and make me mad.
Leave the gun out of it. I can always hear the sound of money.
The first time we met I told you I was a detective. Get it through your lovely head. I work at it, lady. I don’t play at it.