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| 26 | |
| At seven the rain had stopped for a breathing spell, but the gutters were still flooded. On Santa Monica the water was level with the sidewalk and a thin film of it washed over the top of the curbing. A traffic cop in shining black rubber from boots to cap sloshed through the flood on his way from the shelter of a sodden awning. My rubber heels slithered on the sidewalk as I turned into the narrow lobby of the Fulwider Building. A single drop light burned far back, beyond an open, once gilt elevator. There was a tarnished and well-missed spittoon on a gnawed rubber mat. A case of false teeth hung on the mustard-colored wall like a fuse box in a screen porch. I shook the rain off my hat and looked at the building directory beside the case of teeth. Numbers with names and numbers without names. Plenty of vacancies or plenty of tenants who wished to remain anonymous. Painless dentists, shyster detective agencies, small sick businesses that had crawled there to die, mail order schools that would teach you how to become a railroad clerk or a radio technician or a screen writer—if the postal inspectors didn’t catch up with them first. A nasty building. | U sedam je kiša stala dok bi udahnuo zrak, ali su slivnici još bili poplavljeni. Na Santa Moniki voda je bila u razini s pločnikom i u tankom se filmu prelijevala preko vrha rubnika. Prometni cajoš u sjajnoj crnoj gumi od čizama do kape, bljuzgao je kroz povodanj bježeći do zaklona od promočene cerade. Gumene su mi se potpetice pokliza-vale na nogostupu dok sam skretao u uski atrij Fulwider Buildinga. Jedincata je svjetiljka na spuštanje gorjela daleko u pozadini, iza otvorenog, nekoć pozlaćenog dizala. Na ižvakanom je gumenom prostiraču bila izrđala pljuvačnica koja je pamtila mnoge promašaje. Vitrina umjetnih zubala visjela je na zidu boje senfa, nalik ormariću s osiguračima u požarnoj niši. Stresao sam kišu sa šešira i pogledao kućni adresar pokraj vitrine pune zubi. Brojevi s imenima i brojevi bez imena. Mnogo neiznajmljenog, ili mnogo stanara koji su željeli ostati anonimni. Bezbolni zubari, fiškalske detektivske agencije, bolesna mala privreda što se dovukla amo da crkne, dopisne škole koje će vas naučiti kako da postanete željeznički službenik, radio-tehničar ili pisac scenarija — ako ih prije ne ščepaju poštanski inspektori. Gnusna zgrada. |
| A building in which the smell of stale cigar butts would be the cleanest odor. An old man dozed in the elevator, on a ramshackle stool, with a burst out cushion under him. His mouth was open, his veined temples glistened in the weak light. He wore a blue uniform coat that fitted him the way a stall fits a horse. Under that gray trousers with frayed cuffs, white cotton socks and black kid shoes, one of which was slit across a bunion. On the stool he slept miserably, waiting for a customer. | Zgrada u kojoj bi zadah odstajalih čikova bio najčistiji miris. Neki je starac dremuckao u dizalu, na rasklimanoj stolici, s raznijetim jastukom pod sobom. Usta su mu bila otvorena, a žilicama prošarane sljepoočice prelijevale su se na slabašnom svjetlu. Nosio je modri uniformirani kaput koji mu je bio uz tijelo kao štala konju. Ispod toga sive hlače s ofucanim suvracima, bijele pamučne čarape i cipele od crnog antilopa, od kojih je jedna bila razrezana preko palca. Spavao je na stoličici ubogo, čekajući mušteriju. |
| I went past him softly, the clandestine air of the building prompting me, found the fire door and pulled it open. The fire stairs hadn’t been swept in a month. Bums had slept on them, eaten on them, left crusts and fragments of greasy newspaper, matches, a gutted imitation-leather pocketbook. In a shadowy angle against the scribbled wall a pouched ring of pale rubber had fallen and had not been disturbed. A very nice building. | Prošao sam nježno pokraj njega, potaknut tajnovitom atmosferom zgrade, pronašao požarna vrata i gurnuvši ih otvorio. Požarne stepenice nisu već mjesec dana bile ometene. Klatež je spavala na njima, jela na njima, ostavljala po njima krušne kore i oderotine masnih novina, šibice i rasporene lisnice od umjetne kože. U sjenovitom uglu pokraj išaranog zida pao je blijedi gumeni kolutić s džepom; odonda ga nitko nije uznemirio. Prekrasna zgrada. |
| I came out at the fourth floor sniffing for air. The hallway had the same dirty spittoon and frayed mat, the same mustard walls, the same memories of low tide. I went down the line and turned a corner. The name: “L. D. Walgreen—Insurance,” showed on a dark pebbled glass door, on a second dark door, on a third behind which there was a light. One of the dark doors said: “Entrance.” | Izišao sam na trećem katu njuškajući u potrazi za zrakom. Predvorje je imalo istu prljavu pljuvačnicu i pohabani prostirač, iste zidove boje senfa i iste naplavljene uspomene na oseku. Sišao sam duž niza vrata i zakrenuo za ugao. Ime: »L. D. Walgreen — Osiguravajuće društvo« pokazalo se na tamnim vratima od zrnatog stakla, na trećima, iza kojih je bilo svjetlo. Na jednini je od tamnih vrata pisalo: »Ulaz.« |
| A glass transom was open above the lighted door. Through it the sharp birdlike voice of Harry Jones spoke, saying: | Iznad osvijetljenih vrata bila je otvorena staklena vi-djelica. Kroz nju je progovorio vrištavi ptičji glas Harrvja Jonesa: |
| “Canino?… Yeah, I’ve seen you around somewhere. Sure.” | — Canino? ... Daa, negdje sam vas vidio. Sigurno. |
| I froze. The other voice spoke. It had a heavy purr, like a small dynamo behind a brick wall. It said: “I thought you would.” There was a vaguely sinister note in that voice. | Smrznuo sam se. Progovorio je drugi glas. Teško je preo, kao mali dinamo iza zida od opeke. Rekao je: — Mislio sam da hoćeš. — U glasu je bio nejasno zlokobni prjc zvuk. |
| A chair scraped on linoleum, steps sounded, the transom above me squeaked shut. A shadow melted from behind the pebbled glass. | Stolica je zastrugala po linoleumu, začuli su se koraci, vidjelica je iznad mene zaskvičala i zatvorila se. Sjena se iza zrnatog stakla rasplinula. |
| I went back to the first of the three doors marked with the name Walgreen. I tried it cautiously. It was locked. It moved in a loose frame, an old door fitted many years past, made of half-seasoned wood and shrunken now. I reached my wallet out and slipped the thick hard window of celluloid from over my driver’s license. A burglar’s tool the law had forgotten to proscribe. I put my gloves on, leaned softly and lovingly against the door and pushed the knob hard away from the frame. I pushed the celluloid plate into the wide crack and felt for the slope of the spring lock. There was a dry click, like a small icicle breaking. I hung there motionless, like a lazy fish in the water. Nothing happened inside. I turned the knob and pushed the door back into darkness. I shut it behind me as carefully as I had opened it. | Vratio sam se do prvih od troja vrata označenih imenom Walgreen. Oprezno sam ih iskušao. Bila su zaključana. Micala su se u labavom dovratku; stara vrata namještana prije mnogo godina, napravljena od napol odležana drveta, u međuvremenu su se skupila. Posegnuo sam za lisnicom i skinuo debeli tvrdi celuloidni prozorčić s vozačke dozvole. Obijački alat koji je zakon zaboravio zabraniti. Navukao sam rukavice, naslonio se nježno i s ljubavlju na vrata, pa snažno povukao kvaku dalje od okvira. Ugurao sam celuloidnu foliju u široku pukotinu i napipao iskošeni jezičac brave. Začuo se suhi škljocaj, kao da puca mali ledeni mosurić. Ostao sam lebdjeti nepokretno, kao lijena riba u vodi. Unutra se ništa nije dogodilo. Okrenuo sam kvaku i gurnuo vrata u tamu. Zatvorio sam ih za sobom oprezno kao što sam ih i otvorio. |
| The lighted oblong of an uncurtained window faced me, cut by the angle of a desk. On the desk a hooded typewriter took form, then the metal knob of a communicating door. This was unlocked. I passed into the second of the three offices. Rain rattled suddenly against the closed window. Under its noise I crossed the room. A tight fan of light spread from an inch opening of the door into the lighted office. Everything very convenient. I walked like a cat on a mantel and reached the hinged side of the door, put an eye to the crack and saw nothing but light against the angle of the wood. | Sučelice mi je bio osvijetljeni pravokutnik nezastrtog prozora, iz kojega je bio izrezan ugao pisaćeg stola. Zatim je stekla oblik pokrivena pisaća mašina, pa metalna kvaka na prolaznim vratima. Ta su bila otključana. Prešao sam u drugu od tri kancelarije. Kiša je naglo zaškrobotala po zatvorenom prozoru. Pokriven njezinim šumom prešao sam sobu. Uska se lepeza svjetla širila iz zazora vrata što su se otvarala iz osvijetljenog ureda. Sve kako treba. Pošao sam kao mačka po oluku i došao do šarki, stavio oko na pukotinu i ugledao ništa osim svjetla na drvenom utoru. |
| The purring voice was now saying quite pleasantly: “Sure, a guy could sit on his fanny and crab what another guy done if he knows what it’s all about. So you go to see this peeper. Well, that was your mistake. Eddie don’t like it. The peeper told Eddie some guy in a gray Plymouth was tailing him. Eddie naturally wants to know who and why, see.” | Predući je glas sada govorio sasvim Ijubezno: — Sigurno, čovjek može sjediti na starki i zanovijetati drugome što je učinio, samo ako zna oko čega sve to. I tako si otišao vidjeti to škicalo. Dakle, tu si se zeznuo. Eddiju se to ne dopada. Škicalo je reklo Eddiju da ga slijedi neki tip u sivom plvmouthu. Eddie prirodno želi znati tko i zašto, vidiš. |
| Harry Jones laughed lightly. “What makes it his business?” | Harry Jones se lagano nasmijao. — Po čemu se to njega tiče? |
| “That don’t get you no place.” | — To te neće odvesti nikamo. |
| “You know why I went to the peeper. I already told you. Account of Joe Brody’s girl. She has to blow and she’s shatting on her uppers. She figures the peeper can get her some dough. I don’t have any.” | — Znaš zašto sam otišao škicalu. Već sam ti rekao. Zbogzaradi Brodvjeve cure. Trebala je otpiriti, a strugala je po dnu kese. Računala je da bi joj škicalo moglo dati love. Ja nisam imao ništa. |
| The purring voice said gently: “Dough for what? Peepers don’t give that stuff out to punks.” | Predući glas je rekao blago: — Lovu za što? Škicala ne dijele tu stvar gologuscima. |
| “He could raise it. He knows rich people.” Harry Jones laughed, a brave little laugh. | — Mogao je skupiti. Poznaje bogati svijet. — Harry Jones se nasmijao, junačkim malim smijehom. |
| “Don’t fuss with me, little man.” The purring voice had an edge, like sand in the bearing. | — Nemoj se driblati sa mnom, mali. — Predući glas je imao oštar prizvuk, nalik na pijesak u ležajevima. |
| “Okay, okay. You know the dope on Brody’s bump-off. That screwy kid done it all right, but the night it happened this Marlowe was right there in the room.” | — Okej, okej. Znaš srž 3Brodyjeva riknuća. Onaj zavrnuti mali je to u redu učinio, no u noći kad se to dogodilo, taj Marlovve je bio ravno tamo u sobi. |
| “That’s known, little man. He told it to the law.” | — To je poznato, maljucni. To je rekao muriji. |
| “Yeah—here’s what isn’t. Brody was trying to peddle a nudist photo of the young Sternwood girl. Marlowe got wise to him. While they were arguing about it the young Sternwood girl dropped around herself—with a gat. She took a shot at Brody. She lets one fly and breaks a window. Only the peeper didn’t tell the coppers about that. And Agnes didn’t neither. She figures it’s railroad fare for her not to.” | — Jeee, ali evo što nije. Brody je pokušavao utrapiti nudističku fotografiju mlađe Stermvoodice. Marlovve je postao zločest prema njemu. Dok su se oni natezali, upala je glavom ta mlada Sternwoodica — s pljucom. Pripucala je na Brodyja. Pustila je jednu muhu i razbila prozor. Samo što škicalo nije o tome ništa rekao muriji. A nije ni Agnes. Računa da je za nju besplatan stan i hrana to što nije rekla. |
| “This ain’t got anything to do with Eddie?” | — Ne bi to imalo nikakve veze s Eddijem? |
| “Show me how.” | — Reci mi kako. |
| “Where’s this Agnes at?” | — Gdje je sada ta Agnes? |
| “Nothing doing.” | — Ne bi bilo. |
| “You tell me, little man. Here, or in the back room where the boys pitch dimes against the wall.” | — Reći ćeš mi, maljucni. Sada, ili otraga u sobu gdje momci lijepe sitniš po zidovima. |
| “She’s my girl now, Canino. I don’t put my girl in the middle for anybody.” | — Sada je ona moja cura, Canino. Neću staviti svoju curu na metu za nikoga. |
| A silence followed. I listened to the rain lashing the windows. The smell of cigarette smoke came through the crack of the door. I wanted to cough. I bit hard on a handkerchief. | Uslijedila je tišina. Slušao sam kišu kako šiba prozore. Miris je cigaretnog dima prodro kroz pukotinu vrata. Došlo mi je da zakašljem. Čvrsto sam zagrizao u maramicu. |
| The purring voice said, still gentle: “From what I hear this blonde broad was just a shill for Geiger. I’ll talk it over with Eddie. How much you tap the peeper for?” | Predući glas je rekao, još uvijek blago: — Po svemu što sam čuo, ta je plava treba bila Geigeru samo mamac za mušterije. Sve ću prepričati Eddiju. Koliko si htio iscrpsti iz škicala? |
| “Two centuries.” | — Dva stoljeća. |
| “Get it?” | — Dobio? |
| Harry Jones laughed again. “I’m seeing him tomorrow. I have hopes.” | Harry Jones se ponovno nasmijao. — Vidim ga sutra. Ima nade. |
| “Where’s Agnes?” | — Gdje je Agnes? |
| “Listen—” | — Čuj... |
| “Where’s Agnes?” Silence. | — Gdje je Agnes? Tišina. |
| “Look at it, little man.” | — Vidi ovo, maljucni. |
| I didn’t move. I wasn’t wearing a gun. I didn’t have to see through the crack of the door to know that a gun was what the purring voice was inviting Harry Jones to look at. But I didn’t think Mr. Canino would do anything with his gun beyond showing it. I waited. | Nisam se pokrenuo. Nisam ponio pištolj. Nisam morao pogledati kroz pukotinu vrata da bih doznao što je predući glas predložio Harrvju Jonesu da pogleda. Ali nisam mislio da će mister Canino išta učiniti sa svojom pljucom, osim što će je pokazati. Čekao sam. |
| “I’m looking at it,” Harry Jones said, his voice squeezed tight as if it could hardly get past his teeth. “And I don’t see anything I didn’t see before. Go ahead and blast and see what it gets you.” | — Vidim ga — rekao je Harry Jones glasom tako čvrsto stisnutim, kao da mu se jedva provlačio između zubi. — I ne vidim ništa što već prije nisam vidio. Samo naprijed, gruni i vidi što ćeš time dobiti. |
| “A Chicago overcoat is what it would get you, little man.” | Cikaški kaput, eto što ćeš time dobiti ti, maljucni. |
| Silence. | Tišina. |
| “Where’s Agnes?” | — Gdje je Agnes? |
| Harry Jones sighed. “Okay,” he said wearily. “She’s in an apartment house at 28 Court Street, up on Bunker Hill. Apartment 301. I guess I’m yellow all right. Why should I front for that twist?” | Harry Jones je uzdahntio. — Okej — rekao je umorno. — Ona je u najamnoj kući u Court Street 28, gore na Bunker Hillu. Apartman 301. U redu, mislim da sam trtaroš. Što me čeka za ovo zezanje? |
| “No reason. You got good sense. You and me’ll go out and talk to her. All I want is to find out is she dummying up on you, kid. If it’s the way you say it is, everything is jakeloo. You can put the bite on the peeper and be on your way. No hard feelings?” | — Nema frke. Došao si k pameti. Ti i ja idemo van da popričamo s njom. Sve što želim naći, to je priča li ti priče, klinjo. Ako je sve kako si rekao da je, sve je picikato. Možeš opelješiti to zrikalo, i put pod noge. Bez zamjerke? |
| “No,” Harry Jones said. “No hard feelings, Canino.” | — Bez — odgovorio je Harry Jones. — Bez zamjerke, Canino. |
| “Fine. Let’s dip the bill. Got a glass?” The purring voice was now as false as an usherette’s eyelashes and as slippery as a watermelon seed. A drawer was pulled open. Something jarred on wood. A chair squeaked. A scuffing sound on the floor. “This is bond stuff,” the purring voice said. | — Fino. Da zalijemo posao. Imaš čašu? — Predući je glas sad bio lažan kao trepavice kino-razvodnice i sklizak kao koštica od lubenice. Čulo se izvlačenje ladice. Nešto je zaštropotalo po drvetu. Stolica je škripnula. Struganje nogu po podu. — To je četiri godine ležalo — rekao je predući glas, |
| There was a gurgling sound. “Moths in your ermine, as the ladies say.” | Uslijedio je grgljavi zvuk. — Došli ti moljci u hermelin, što bi dame rekle. |
| Harry Jones said softly: “Success.” | Harry Jones je rekao meko: — Živio. |
| I heard a sharp cough. Then a violent retching. There was a small thud on the floor, as if a thick glass had fallen. My fingers curled against my raincoat. | Začuo sam oštar kašalj. Zatim divlje podrigivanje. Uslijedio je lagani udarac o pod, kao da je pala debela čaša. Prsti su mi se zgrčili na kišnom kaputu. |
| The purring voice said gently: “You ain’t sick from just one drink, are you, pal?” | Preduči glas je rekao nježno: — Nisi se razbolio od jednoga pića, zar ne, pajdo? |
| Harry Jones didn’t answer. There was labored breathing for a short moment. Then thick silence folded down. Then a chair scraped. | Harry Jones nije odgovorio. Na kratki se trenutak čulo naporno disanje. Zatim je sve zastrla gusta tišina. Stolica je zastrugala. |
| “So long, little man,” said Mr. Canino. Steps, a click, the wedge of light died at my feet, a door opened and closed quietly. The steps faded, leisurely and assured. | — Zbogom, maleni — rekao je mister Canino. Koraci, škljocaj, klin svjetla što mi je zamro pokraj nogu, vrata što se tiho otvaraju i zatvaraju. Koraci su zamrli, ležerni i sigurni. |
| I stirred around the edge of the door and pulled it wide and looked into blackness relieved by the dim shine of a window. The corner of a desk glittered faintly. A hunched shape took form in a chair behind it. In the close air there was a heavy clogged smell, almost a perfume. I went across to the corridor door and listened. I heard the distant clang of the elevator. | Pomakao sam se oko ruba vratiju, širom ih otvorio i pogledao u crninu pomognut tamnim odsjajem prozora. Ugao je stola slabašno zasvjetlucao. Zgrbljena masa u stolici kraj njega polako je poprimala oblik. U zagušljivu zraku bio je teški ljepljivi miris, gotovo nalik parfemu. Prešao sam preko sobe do vrata prema hodniku i poslušao. Čuo sam udaljeni zveket lifta. |
| I found the light switch and light glowed in a dusty glass bowl hanging from the ceiling by three brass chains. Harry Jones looked at me across the desk, his eyes wide open, his face frozen in a tight spasm, the skin bluish. His small dark head was tilted to one side. He sat upright against the back of the chair. | Pronašao sam prekidač i svjetlo se zakrijesilo u prašnjavoj staklenoj kugli što je visjela sa stropa na tri mjedena lanca. Harry Jones me gledao preko stola, s očima širom otvorenim, licem smrznutim u čvrstom grču, plavičastom kožom. Mala mu je tamna glava bila nagnuta na stranu. Sjedio je uspravno uz naslon stolice. |
| A street-car bell clanged at an almost infinite distance and the sound came buffeted by innumerable walls. A brown half pint of whiskey stood on the desk with the cap off. Harry Jones’ glass glinted against a castor of the desk. The second glass was gone. | Tramvajsko je zvono zveknulo u gotovo beskonačnoj udaljenosti i zvuk je dopro izudaran bezbrojnim zidovima. Na stolu je stajalo četvrt litre smeđeg viskija, sa skinutom kapicom. Čaša Harryja Jonesa ljeskala se na smećkastosi-voj boji stola. Druga je čaša nestala. |
| I breathed shallowly, from the top of my lungs, and bent above the bottle. Behind the charred smell of the bourbon another odor lurked, faintly, the odor of bitter almonds. Harry Jones dying had vomited on his coat. That made it cyanide. | Disao sam plitko, vršcima pluća, i nadvio se nad bocu. Iza dimljivog mirisa burbona provirivao je drugi, slabašni, miris gorkih badema. Umirući, Harrv Jones je povratio na kaput. Znači cijanid. |
| I walked around him carefully and lifted a phone book from a hook on the wooden frame of the window. I let it fall again, reached the telephone as far as it would go from the little dead man. I dialed information. The voice answered. | Pažljivo sam ga obišao i podigao telefonsku knjigu s vješalice na drvenom prozorskom okviru. Ispustio sam je, uzeo telefon i maknuo ga koliko se god moglo daleko od maloga mrtvaca. Okrenuo sam informacije. Javio se glas. |
| “Can you give me the phone number of Apartment 301, 28 Court Street?” | — Možete li mi dati telefonski broj apartmana 301, Court Street 28? |
| “One moment, please.” The voice came to me borne on the smell of bitter almonds. A silence. “The number is Wentworth 2528. It is listed under Glendower Apartments.” | — Samo trenutak, molim. — Glas što je dopirao do mene sadržavao je miris gorkih badema. Tišina. — Broj je Wentworth 2528. Unesen je pod Glendowerovim apartmanima. |
| I thanked the voice and dialed the number. The bell rang three times, then the line opened. A radio blared along the wire and was muted. A burly male voice said: “Hello.” | Zahvalio sam glasu i zavrtio broj. Zvono je triput zazvonilo, i tada se linija otvorila. Radio je zakreštao duž žice i zatim bio ušutkan. Krupni je muški glas progovorio: — Halo. |
| “Is Agnes there?” | — Je l' tamo Agnes? |
| “No Agnes here, buddy. What number you want?” | — Nema Agneze ovdje, prijane. Koji broj zoveš? |
| “Wentworth two-five-two-eight.” | — Wentworth dva-pet-dva-osam. |
| “Right number, wrong gal. Ain’t that a shame?” The voice cackled. | — Dobar broj, krivo curče. Da nije sramota? — Glas se cernuo. |
| I hung up and reached for the phone book again and looked up the Wentworth Apartments. I dialed the manager’s number. I had a blurred vision of Mr. Canino driving fast through rain to another appointment with death. | Spustio sam slušalicu, ponovno posegnuo za telefonskom knjigom i pogledao Wentworth, apartmane. Okrenuo sam nadstojnikov broj. Imao sam zamagljenu viziju mistera Canina kako jezdi kroz kišu na još jedan sastanak sa smrću. |
| “Glendower Apartments. Mr. Schiff speaking.” | — Glendovverovi apartmani, govori mister Schiff. |
| “This is Wallis, Police Identification Bureau. Is there a girl named Agnes Lozelle registered in your place?” | — Ovdje Wallis, policijski ured za identifikaciju. Je li djevojka imenom Agnes Lozelle registrirana kod vas? |
| “Who did you say you were?” I told him again. | — Što rekoste, tko ste? Rekao sam mu ponovno. |
| “If you give me your number, Ill—” | — Ako mi date broj, ja ću... |
| “Cut the comedy,” I said sharply, “I’m in a hurry. Is there or isn’t there?” | — Prekinite komediju — rekao sam oštro. — U žurbi sam. Je li tamo ili nije? |
| “No. There isn’t.” The voice was as stiff as a breadstick. | — Ne. Nije. — Glas mu je bio ukrućen poput grisina. |
| “Is there a tall blonde with green eyes registered in the flop?” | — Je li kakva visoka plavuša sa zelenim očima registrirana u tom kokošinjcu? |
| “Say, this isn’t any flop—” | — Recimo, nije ovo nikakav kokošinjac... |
| “Oh, can it, can it!” I rapped at him in a police voice. “You want me to send the vice squad over there and shake the joint down? I know all about Bunker Hill apartment houses, mister. Especially the ones that have phone numbers listed for each apartment.” | — O, začepite, začepite! — zatutnjao sam na nj policijskim glasom. — Želite da vam pošaljem odred za ćudoređe pa da vam rastepu tu rupu? Znam ja sve o najamnim kućama na Bunker Hillu, mister. Posebno o onima koje imaju ispisane telefonske brojeve za svaki apartman. |
| “Hey, take it easy, officer. I’ll co-operate. There’s a couple of blondes here, sure. Where isn’t there? I hadn’t noticed their eyes much. Would yours be alone?” | — Hej, primirite sa malo, druže. Već surađujem. Tu je par blondina, sigurno. Nisam im mnogo opažao oči. Bi li vaša bila sama? |
| “Alone, or with a little chap about five feet three, a hundred and ten, sharp black eyes, wears a double-breasted dark gray suit and Irish tweed overcoat, gray hat. My information is Apartment 301, but all I get there is the big razzoo.” | — Sama, ili s malim čilcem, oko metar šezdeset, i oko pedeset, oštre crne oči, nosi tamnosivo odijelo s dva reda dugmadi i kaput od tvida, sivi šešir. Moja informacija veli apartman 301, ali sve što sam dobio tamo bio je neki veliki razbacanko. |
| “Oh, she ain’t there. There’s a couple of car salesmen living in three-o-one.” | — O, ona nije tamo. Tamo je par auto-trgovaca, žive u tri-nula-jedan. |
| “Thanks, I’ll drop around.” | — Hvala, s vrati t ću. |
| “Make it quiet, won’t you? Come to my place, direct?” | — Ali budite tihi, može li? Dolazite ovamo, direktno? |
| “Much obliged, Mr. Schiff.” I hung up. | — Mnogo ste me zadužili, mister Schiff. — Objesio sam slušalicu. |
| I wiped sweat off my face. I walked to the far corner of the office and stood with my face to the wall, patted it with a hand. I turned around slowly and looked across at little Harry Jones grimacing in his chair. | Obrisao sam znoj s lica. Odšetao sam do najdaljega kuta ureda, okrenuo se licem prema zidu i potapšao ga rukom. Polako sam se okrenuo i bacio pogled na malog Harrvja Jo-nesa koji je pravio grimase u stolici. |
| “Well, you fooled him, Harry,” I said out loud, in a voice that sounded queer to me. “You lied to him and you drank your cyanide like a little gentleman. You died like a poisoned rat, Harry, but you’re no rat to me.” | — Dakle, zeznuo si ga, Harry — izrekao sam glasno, glasom koji mi je čudno zazvučao. — Lagao si mu i popio svoj cijanid kao pravi mali gentleman. Umro si kao o tro vani štakor, Harry, ali štakor nisi bio za mene. |
| I had to search him. It was a nasty job. His pockets yielded nothing about Agnes, nothing that I wanted at all. I didn’t think they would, but I had to be sure. Mr. Canino might be back. Mr. Canino would be the kind of self-confident gentleman who would not mind returning to the scene of his crime. | Morao sam ga pretražiti. Bio je to gnusan posao. Džepovi mu nisu urodili ničim što bi imalo veze s Agnes, ničim što bi me uopće zanimalo. Nisam ni mislio da hoće, ali sam morao biti siguran. Mister Canino se mogao vratiti. Mister Canino je od one vrste samouvjerenih gentlemana koji se ne libe vratiti na mjesto zločina. |
| I put the light out and started to open the door. The phone bell rang jarringly down on the baseboard. I listened to it, my jaw muscles drawn into a knot, aching. Then I shut the door and put the light on again and went across to it. | Isključio sam svjetlo i počeo otvarati vrata. Telefonsko je zvonce kreštavo zazvonilo dolje kod podne rubne obloge. Slušao sam ga, s čeljusnim mišićima zavezanim u čvor, do bola. Tad sam zatvorio vrata, ponovno upalio svjetlo i prešao sobu do njega. |
| “Yeah?” | — Daa? |
| A woman’s voice. Her voice. “Is Harry around?” | Ženski glas. Njen. — Je F Harry tu negdje? |
| “Not for a minute, Agnes.” | — Ne ovog časa, Agnes. |
| She waited a while on that. Then she said slowly: “Who’s talking?” | Na ovo je na trenutak zastala. Tad je polako izrekla: — S kim govorim? |
| “Marlowe, the guy that’s trouble to you.” | Mariowe, momak koji je pokora za tebe. |
| “Where is he?” sharply. | — Gdje je on? — oštro. |
| “I came over to give him two hundred bucks in return for certain information. The offer holds. I have the money. Where are you?” | — Došao sam ovamo da mu dam dvije stotine baksi u zamjenu za izvjesnu informaciju. Ponuda važi. Imam novac. Gdje ste vi? |
| “Didn’t he tell you?” | — Nije vam rekao? |
| “No.” | — Ne. |
| “Perhaps you’d better ask him. Where is he?” | — Možda je bolje da pitate njega. Gdje je on? |
| “I can’t ask him. Do you know a man named Canino?” | — Ne mogu ga pitati. Znate li čovjeka imenom Cani-no? |
| Her gasp came as clearly as though she had been beside me. | Gutanje je zraka doprlo tako bistro kao da je tik uz mene. |
| “Do you want the two C’s or not?” I asked. | — Želite li dvije stoje ili ne? — upitah. |
| “I—I want it pretty bad, mister.” | — Ja ... želim ih vrlo gadno, mister. |
| “All right then. Tell me where to bring it.” | — U redu onda. Recite mi kamo da ih donesem. |
| “I—I” Her voice trailed off and came back with a panic rush. “Where’s Harry?” | — Ja... ja... — Glas joj se otkotrljao, a zatim se vratio u paničnom naletu. — Gdje je Harry? |
| “Got scared and blew. Meet me somewhere—anywhere at all—I have the money.” | — Uhvatila ga fufka pa otpirio. Da se vidimo negdje, bilo gdje; imam novac. |
| “I don’t believe you—about Harry. It’s a trap.” | — Ne vjerujem vam u vezi Harrvja. To je stupica. |
| “Oh stuff. I could have had Harry hauled in long ago. There isn’t anything to make a trap for. Canino got a line on Harry somehow and he blew. I want quiet, you want quiet, Harry wants quiet.” Harry already had it. Nobody could take it away from him. “You don’t think I’d stooge for Eddie Mars, do you, angel?” | — Ah, svašta. Mogao sam srediti da ga odvuku još o-davno. Nema tu ničega zbog čega bi trebala zamka. Canino je nekako nanjušio Harrvja i ovaj je otpirio. Ja želim tišinu, vi želite tišinu, Harry želi tišinu. — Harry ju je već imao. Nitko mu je nije mogao oduzeti. — Ne mislite da bih ja komedijao za Eddija Marsa, zar ne, anđele? |
| “No-o, I guess not. Not that. I’ll meet you in half an hour. Beside Bullocks Wilshire, the east entrance to the parking lot.” | — Ne-e, mislim da ne. Ne tako. Čekam vas za pola sata. Kraj Bullocks Wilshirea, istočni ulaz u parkiralište. |
| “Right,” I said. | — Bravo — rekoh. |
| I dropped the phone in its cradle. The wave of almond odor flooded me again, and the sour smell of vomit. The little dead man sat silent in his chair, beyond fear, beyond change. | Spustio sam slušalicu na vilicu. Ponovno me preplavio val bademovog mirisa i kiseli zadah bljuvotine. Mali je mrtvac tiho sjedio u stolici, izvan svakog straha, izvan svake promjene. |
| I left the office. Nothing moved in the dingy corridor. No pebbled glass door had light behind it. I went down the fire stairs to the second floor and from there looked down at the lighted roof of the elevator cage. I pressed the button. Slowly the car lurched into motion. I ran down the stairs again. The car was above me when I walked out of the building. | Napustio sam ured. Ništa se nije pomaklo u prljavom hodniku. Iza ni jednih vrata od zrnatog stakla nije bilo svjetla. Sišao sam niz požarne stube do prvoga kata i odanle spustio pogled na osvijetljeni krov kabine dizala. Pritisnuo sam dugme. Polako se, zateturavši, pokrenula. Po- novno sam potrčao niz stepenice. Kabina je bila iznad mene kad sam izlazio iz zgrade. * |
| It was raining hard again. I walked into it with the heavy drops slapping my face. When one of them touched my tongue I knew that my mouth was open and the ache at the side of my jaws told me it was open wide and strained back, mimicking the rictus of death carved upon the face of Harry Jones. | Ponovno je žestoko pljuštalo. Zakoračio sam u kišu, dok su me teške kapi pljuskale po licu. Kad mi je jedna dodirnula jezik shvatio sam da su mi usta otvorena, a bol mi je na kraju čeljusti rekla da su otvorena širom i povučena unazad, oponašajući riktus što ga je smrt isklesala na licu Harrvja Jonesa. |