Shooting Star & Spiderweb by Bloch Robert

Author:Bloch, Robert [Bloch, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Hard Case Crime
Publisher: Random House Inc Clients
Published: 2011-04-20T04:00:00+00:00

For

GUSTAV MARX

who gave so much of his time to this book

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

One

The door was of blonde wood, highly waxed. Across its surface, in angular script, was lettered:

LARRY RICKERT

AND

ASSOCIATES

I snapped the brim of my hat, turned the doorknob, and walked into the office. A set of chimes made background music.

The walls of the small reception room were of glass brick. Torcheres gave off a soft, discreet light. There was an end table bearing the usual copies of Variety and Billboard. Two chairs and a sofa, overstuffed by a firm of reliable over-stuffers, completed the ensemble. It made me sick to look at the joint.

I headed for the ticket-window opening in the wall ahead, where a receptionist’s ponytail bobbed behind a panel of glass.

When I rapped, the ponytail switched around until I got a look at a long, thin face with about three dollars’ worth of fancy makeup on it.

The panel opened and the makeup cracked into a smile. “Oh, it’s you, Mr. Haines.”

Well, that was something. At least she recognized me, even if she didn’t exactly swoon in my arms at the sight of my smiling face.

“Is Mr. Rickert in?” I asked.

“Have you an appointment?”

“No. Not exactly. But I only want to see him for a minute or two.”

She nodded, closed the panel, and manipulated the intercom system, or the TV set, or whatever they used to convey trivial messages around here. After a brief pause for station identification she opened the panel again.

“Mr. Rickert will see you in a moment. Won’t you be seated, please?”

I tipped my hat, smiled roguishly and hit bottom on the overstuffed sofa. The sliding panel closed again. I waited to see if she would put up a Sold Out sign, but nothing happened.

There were exactly three cigarettes left in my package. I lit one and watched my hand tremble. Inhaling, I leaned back and forced myself to breathe deeply and slowly. Gradually I calmed down. It was going to be all right as long as I kept a grip on myself. Sure, I was perfectly relaxed now.

I only jumped about two feet when the outer door opened and Peter Lorre came in.

It wasn’t Peter Lorre, of course. Rickert didn’t handle any movie talent. But the little guy in the black hat bore a fleeting resemblance to the star. He walked over to the reception window and mumbled something about an appointment. I avoided watching or listening too closely, and presently he took his place on the chair set at right angles to my sofa. Something began to burn inside my forehead. He was staring at me.

Right away, my jumpy feeling came back. It was silly, of course. Let him stare. What did he know about me? What could he know?

I was putting up a good front. Sitting down with my legs tucked back this way, it was hard to tell that the shine was on the seat of my pants and not on my shoes.

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