The Big Sleep Page #8

proposition. Take it or leave it.

One right guy to another.

You start waving cops at me.

You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

I am.

- Have you got the money?

- Where's Agnes?

You know Puss Walgreen's office?

Fulwider Building?

No, but I can find it.

Will you be in shape to meet

me there in an hour?

- I guess so.

- You bring the dough.

I'll take you to Agnes.

Who are you?

What do you want?

I wanted to see you.

Who are you?

I work for Eddie Mars.

My name is Canino.

Canino?

- Sure!

- I thought you would remember.

What do you want?

Why have you been following

that detective, Marlowe?

- Who says I've been?

- I do!

That was a mistake, your mistake.

Eddie Mars don't like it.

Sit down and quit stalling!

Why are you tailing Marlowe?

All right, there's no harm telling.

It was for Joe Brody's girl.

She's got to get out of town,

that takes dough.

She figured she could

get it through Marlowe.

Why would he pay?

You know about the night

the kid bumped Brody?

The young Sternwood girl was there.

Only Marlowe didn't tell the cops that.

Agnes figured it was railroad fare

as soon as she could get hold of him.

- You get it?

- Sure I get it.

- Where's this Agnes?

- What do you care?

What do you want with her?

What's she got...

What's the matter, Jones?

Ain't you ever seen a gun before?

Where's the girl?

You want me to count to three,

like a movie?

Where's Agnes?

You win.

She's in an apartment...

...at 28 Court Street.

Apartment 301.

I guess I'm yellow, all right.

You just got good sense.

I ain't going to hurt her.

Not if everything's like you say.

You're nervous, ain't you?

- I think maybe you need a drink.

- I don't think so...

You got a glass?

At the water cooler.

There you are, pal.

Drink her down.

Well, drink it!

What do you think it is, poison?

I bet that Agnes of yours

wouldn't turn it down.

No, I'll bet she wouldn't.

What's funny?

Nothing's funny.

So long, Jonesy.

Information, give me the phone number

of apartment 301, 28 Court Street.

Thank you. One moment, please.

Courtview Apartments.

Office, this is Police Identification

Bureau, Wallace speaking.

You got a girl living there

named Agnes Lowzier?

Nobody by that name here.

Have you got a brunette with

green eyes, kind of slanted...

...either alone or with a little guy,

weighs about 115 pounds...

...wears a gray hat and gray suit?

Sorry. Nothing like that.

Somebody just gave out

the wrong address.

Thanks.

You did all right, Jonesy.

But you left me high and dry.

Who is this?

- What did you say?

- I said, "Who is this?"

Hello, Agnes. This is Marlowe.

Marlowe, the man you want to see.

Is Harry there?

Yeah, he's here.

- Put him on, will you?

- He can't talk to you.

- Why?

- Because he's dead.

Your little man died to keep

you out of trouble.

I got your money for you.

Do you want it?

- Yeah, I want it.

- Have you got a car?

Where can I meet you?

Rampart and Oakwood.

I'll be there in half an hour.

What happened to Harry?

There's no use going into that.

You don't really care anyway.

Just put it down your little man

deserved something better.

Here you are. Here's your 200.

Joe and I were riding on Foothill

Boulevard a couple of weeks ago.

We passed a brown coupe and I saw

the girl who was driving.

She was Eddie Mars' wife.

- There was a fellow with her. Canino.

- I know him.

Some people you don't forget,

even if you've only seen them once.

We got curious and Joe tailed them.

Do you know where Realito is?

About 10 miles east,

there's a side road.

Off the highway, there's

a garage and paint shop...

...run by a guy named Art Huck.

Hot-car drop, likely.

And a frame house right behind it.

That's where Eddie Mars' wife

is holed up.

- You sure of that?

- Why should I lie?

Art Huck's, 10 miles east of Realito.

Is that right?

So long, copper. Wish me luck.

I got a raw deal.

Hey, your kind always does.

What do you want?

Open up. I got a flat

back here on the highway.

Sorry, mister.

We're closed for the night.

Better try Realito.

All right.

Come on in.

You'd scare off

a lot of trade with that.

You can get yourself hurt,

kicking on doors.

Cut it out, Art.

The guy's right.

You run a garage, don't you?

Go ahead. Give him a hand.

Thanks, mister.

I suppose you can fix flats?

Good as you can make them, but

I'm busy working on a spray job.

It's too damp for a

good spray job, Art.

You got time to fix his tires.

- But I don't...

- Get moving!

Sure.

Here's the key to the back.

Put the spare on.

That'll make it easier.

Yeah, I took a skid up at the corner.

A front tire went.

Lucky to find some help.

You live around here?

Just drove in from Reno

and Carson City.

Came the long way around, huh?

Business trip?

Partly.

Having your car painted?

Just a spray job.

Art's pretty slow.

He should've been finished by now.

All right, Art.

Take him in the house.

You'd be Mrs. Eddie Mars...

...the blonde Regan was

supposed to have run off with.

That's right.

Where is Shawn Regan?

I'd like to know that myself.

Hello, angel!

I thought I'd find you here.

But you don't seem to be

running in front today.

Remove that light, will you,

or move me?

I suppose we're in the house,

in back of the garage.

That's right.

The boys don't take

any chances, do they?

Where are they,

out digging a grave?

You had to go on with this,

didn't you?

- Where are they?

- They've gone to telephone.

To call up Eddie Mars, huh?

To find out what to do with me.

I could've told them that.

Why did you have to go on?

Too many people told me to stop.

Light me a cigarette,

will you, angel?

Why did you have to make trouble?

Eddie never did you any harm.

Besides, I was never in love with

Shawn. We were just good friends.

If I hadn't hidden here

when Shawn disappeared...

...the police would've been

certain he killed him.

Maybe he did kill him.

Eddie's not that kind.

You mean, Eddie Mars

never kills anybody?

- You really believe that, don't you?

- Yes, I do!

How do you suppose

I found out you were here?

How did you?

A little man named

Harry Jones told me.

A funny little guy, harmless.

I liked him.

He sold me the information

because he found out...

...I was working for General Sternwood.

How he found out's a long story.

Anyway, Canino, your husband's

hired man, got to him first...

...while I stood around like a sap.

I was in the next room.

Now that little man is dead.

- But Eddie Mars didn't do that.

- You're lying.

Eddie Mars never kills anybody.

He just hires it done.

You think he's just a gambler,

don't you?

I think he's a blackmailer,

a hot-car broker.

- Stop talking!

- A killer by remote control.

Anything with money pinned to it!

Anything rotten!

Ask him when you see him.

Well, that got rid of her.

She's okay. I like her.

You like too many people.

Never mind, angel.

The water feels good.

I wonder if you'd do

what she did for a man.

I was wondering that myself.

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