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I put it down on the glass again。
〃It ain't any worse than lots of business personals；〃 Breeze said。 〃It don't seem to be aimed at the carriage trade。〃
Spangler said： 〃The girl in the office wrote it for him。 She said she could hardly keep from laughing； but George thought it was swell。 The Hollywood Boulevard office of the Chronicle。〃
〃You checked that fast；〃 I said。
〃We don't have any trouble getting information；〃 Breeze said。 〃Except maybe from you。〃
〃What about Hench？〃
〃Nothing about Hench。 Him and the girl were having a liquor party。 They would drink a little and sing a little and scrap a little and listen to the radio and go out to eat once in a while； when they thought of it。 I guess it had been going on for days。 Just as well we stopped it。 The girl has two bad eyes。 The next round Hench might have broken her neck。 The world is full of bums like Henchand his girl。〃
〃What about the gun Hench said wasn't his？〃
〃It's the right gun。 We don't have the slug yet； but we have the shell。 It was under George's body and it checks。 We had a couple more fired and parisoned the ejector marks and the firing pin dents。〃
〃You believe somebody planted it under Hench's pillow？〃
〃Sure。 Why would Hench shoot Phillips？ He didn't know him。〃
〃How do you know that？〃
〃I know it；〃 Breeze said； spreading his hands。 〃Look； there are things you know because you have them down in black and white。 And there are things you know because they are reasonable and have to be so。 You don't shoot somebody and then make a lot of racket calling attention to yourself； and all the time you have the gun under your pillow。 The girl was with Hench all day。 If Hench shot anybody； she would have some idea。 She doesn't have any such idea。 She would spill； if she had。 What is Hench to her？ A guy to play around with； no more。 Look； forget Hench。 The guy who did the shooting hears the loud radio and knows it will cover a shot。 But all the same he saps Phillips and drags him into the bathroom and shuts the door before he shoots him。 He's not drunk。 He's minding his own business； and careful。 He goes out； shuts the bathroom door； the radio stops； Hench and the girl go out to eat。 Just happens that way。〃
〃How do you know the radio stopped？〃
〃I was told；〃 Breeze said calmly。 〃Other people live in that dump。 Take it the radio stopped and they went out。 Not quiet。 The killer steps out of the apartment and Hench's door is open。 That must be because otherwise he wouldn't think anything about Hench's door。〃
〃People don't leave their doors open in apartment houses。 Especially in districts like that。〃
〃Drunks do。 Drunks are careless。 Their minds don't focus well。 And they only think of one thing at a time。 The door was openjust a little maybe； but open。 The killer went in and ditched his gun on the bed and found another gun there。 He took that away； just to make it look worse for Hench。〃
〃You can check the gun；〃 I said。
〃Hench's gun？ We'll try to； but Hench says he doesn't know the number。 If we find it； we might do something there。 I doubt it。 The gun we have we will try to check； but you know how those things are。 You get just so far along and you think it is going to open up for you； and then the trail dies out cold。 A dead end。 Anything else you can think of that we might know that might be a help to you in your business？〃
〃I'm getting tired；〃 I said。 〃My imagination isn't working very well。〃
〃You were doing fine a while back；〃 Breeze said。 〃On the Cassidy case。〃
I didn't say anything。 I filled my pipe up again but it was too hot to light。 I laid it on the edge of the table to cool off。
〃It's God's truth；〃 Breeze said slowly； 〃that I don't know what to make of you。 I can't see you deliberately covering up on any murder。 And neither can I see you knowing as little about all this as you pretend to know。〃
I didn't say anything； again。
Breeze leaned over to revolve his cigar butt in the tray until he had killed the fire。 He finished his drink； put on his hat and stood up。
〃How long you expect to stay dummied up？〃 he asked。
〃I don't know。〃
〃Let me help you out。 I give you till tomorrow noon； a little better than twelve hours。 I won't get my post mortem report before that anyway。 I give you till then to talk things over with your party and decide to e clean。〃
〃And after that？〃
〃After that I see the Captain of Detectives and tell him a private eye named Philip Marlowe is withholding information which I need in a murder investigation； or I'm pretty sure he is。 And what about it？ I figure he'll pull you in fast enough to singe your breeches。〃
I said： 〃Uh…huh。 Did you go through Phillips' desk？〃
〃Sure。 A very neat young feller。 Nothing in it at all； except a little kind of diary。 Nothing in that either； except about how he went to the beach or took some girl to the pictures and she didn't warm up much。 Or how he sat in the office and no business e in。 One time he got a little sore about his laundry and wrote a whole page。 Mostly it was just three or four lines。 There was only one thing about it。 It was all done in a kind of printing。〃
I said： 〃Printing？〃
〃Yeah； printing in pen and ink。 Not big block caps like people trying to disguise things。 Just neat fast little printing as if the guy could write that way as fast and easy as any way。〃
〃He didn't write like that on the card he gave me；〃 I said。
Breeze thought about that for a moment。 Then he nodded。 〃True。 Maybe it was this way。 There wasn't any name in the diary either； in the front。 Maybe the printing was just a little game he played with himself。〃
〃Like Pepys' shorthand；〃 I said。
〃What was that？〃
〃A diary a man wrote in a private shorthand； a long time ago。〃
Breeze looked at Spangler； who was standing up in front of his chair； tipping the last few drops of his glass。
〃We better beat it；〃 Breeze said。 〃This guy is warming up for another Cassidy case。〃
Spangler put his glass down and they both went over to the door。 Breeze shuffled a foot and looked at me sideways； with his hand on the doorknob。
〃You know any tall blonds？〃
〃I'd have to think；〃 I said。 〃I hope so。 How tall？〃
〃Just tall。 I don't know how tall that is。 Except that it would be tall to a guy who is tall himself。 A wop named Palermo owns that apartment house on Court Street。 We went across to see him in his funeral parlors。 He owns them too。 He says he saw a tall blond e out of the apartment house about three…thirty。 The manager； Passmore； don't place anybody in the joint that he would call a tall blond。 The wop says she was a looker。 I give some weight to what he says because he give us a good description of you。 He didn't see this tall blond go in； just saw her e out。 She was wearing slacks and a sports jacket and a wrap…around。 But she had light blond hair and plenty of it under the wrap…around。〃
〃Nothing es to me；〃 I said。 〃But I just remembered something else。 I wrote the license number of Phillips' car down on the back of an envelope。 That will give you his former address； probably。 I'll get it。〃
They stood there while I went to get it out of my coat in the bedroom。 I handed the piece of envelope to Breeze and he read what was on it and tucked it into his billfold。
〃So you just thought of this； huh？〃
〃That's right。〃
〃Well； well；〃 he said。 〃Well； well。〃
The two of them went along the hallway towards the elevator； shaking their heads。
I shut the door and went back to my almost untasted second drink。 It was flat。 I carried it to the kitchen and hardened it up from the bottle and stood there holding it and looking out of the window at the eucalyptus trees tossing their limber tops against the bluish dark sky。 The wind seemed to have risen again。 It thumped at the north window and there was a heavy slow pounding noise on the wall of the building； like a thick wire banging the stucco between insulators。
I tasted my drink and wished I hadn't wasted the fresh whiskey on it。 I poured it down the sink and got a fresh glass and drank some ice water。
Twelve hours to tie up a situation which I didn't even begin to understand。 Either that or turn up a client and let the cops go to work on her and her whole family。 Hire Marlowe and get your house full of law。 Why worry？ Why be doubtful and confused？ Why be gnawed by suspicion？ Consult cockeyed； careless； clubfooted； dissipated investigator。 Philip Marlowe； Glenview 7537。 See me and you meet the best cops in town。 Why despair？ Why be lonely？ Call Marlowe and watch the wagon e。
This didn't get me anywhere either。 I went back to the living room and put a match to the pipe that had cooled off now on the edge of the chess table。 I drew the smoke in slowly； but it still tasted like the smell of hot rubber。 I put it away and stood in the middle of the floor pulling my lower lip out and letting it snap back against my teeth。
The telephone rang。 I picked it up and growled into it。
〃Marlowe？〃
The voice was a harsh low whisper。 It was a harsh low whisper I had heard before。
〃All right；〃 I said。 〃Talk it up whoever you are。 Whose pocket have I got my hand in now？〃
〃Maybe you're a smart guy；〃 the harsh whisper said。 〃Maybe