Shake a Crooked Town by Dan Marlowe

Author:Dan Marlowe
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: マイコンテンツ
Published: 2011-01-27T05:07:08.879000+00:00

He came instantly awake in bright sunshine at a knock at the door. “Telephone, Johnny,” Jingle Peterson's voice called.

He rolled out of bed and slid into his pants. He padded barefoot to the door, opened it, and thrust his head out. “Man or woman, Jingle?” he inquired.

“Woman. Like definitely, see?” She eyed his bare arms and shoulders. “"What big muscles you have, grandma,' Little Red Ridinghood said to the wolf.”

“You should see the ones in my head.” Johnny returned to the chair beside his bed for an undershirt, pulled it on and, not bothering with shoes, brushed past Jingle and ran downstairs. He expected to hear Jessamyn Burger's voice when he picked up the dangling receiver of the wall pay phone in the front hall. Micheline Thompson's surprised him.

“Is this Johnny Killain?”

“Yeah. Hey!” he exclaimed. “Where are you? I been tryin' to reach you.”

“I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you. I don't know what you're doing here. I think you'd better leave town.”

“Just answer 'yes' or 'no',” Johnny said rapidly. “Is someone standin' right beside you while you're reelin' that off?”

He counted to five before she replied. “No,” she said.

“Someone's listenin' in on an extension?”

Again the hesitation. “You're going to get yourself in a lot of trouble,” her voice said finally. It sounded flat, without emphasis. “You'd better listen to—”

“Micheline,” he broke in,“qu'est-ce que c'est que vous voulez dire? Quand —” The loud click of the broken connection in his ear cut him off. “Damn it all,” he said softly, and hung up the receiver. He stood looking blankly at the phone for an instant before turning to go back upstairs. Before he had taken three steps a sharp ring spun him around again. He had started for the telephone before he realized it was the front-door bell.

Tingle answered the door. There appeared to be no conversation as she was shunted aside by two uniformed police who barged right in. “Here!” Jingle said indignantly. “What do you think you're doing?”

They paid no attention. The leader stopped at sight of Johnny. “That him?” he asked his companion.

“Yeah.”

The front man addressed Johnny directly. “Let's take a little walk, pal.”

“Yeah? Whose invitation?” Through the small-paned window beside the front door Johnny could see the Black Maria at the curb and a third cop standing on the sidewalk.

“Our invitation. Let's go.”

“You got a warrant?” Johnny wished he had his shoes on. He wasn't going willingly in the police van, and a rough-house barefoot was like driving a racing car with a couple of cylinders missing.

The second man glanced at the wide-eyed Jingle taking it all in. “Take a walk, kid,” he said gruffly.

“This is my house!” the girl retorted. “Don't you try to tell me what to do in my own house!”

Johnny laughed. The second man looked at him. “We don't need a warrant for you to come along for a quiet little talk, now, do we?” he asked.

“You sure as hell do,” Johnny told him.

The leader spoke up again.

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