Raymond Chandler: Poodle Springs

"But this, $100,000 to a man like Lipshultz." She shook her head as if she couldn't continue, or saw no need to. "We talked, I said that it was time for him to become responsible, to grow a bit more worldly. I hoped, frankly, to snap him out of his childishness in this regard. I said he would have to liquidate this debt himself."

I finished my cigarette and stubbed it out in a polished abalone shell that sat on the end table in the middle of the desert. I looked at the photographs of young women on the wall. I wondered how many sensitivities Les had to be indulged in.

"Does he work out of his home?" I said.

The bilious hooch she was drinking was beginning to work. She shifted her hips restlessly as she stood by the sideboard. Her thighs beneath the black silk lounging slacks were full of energy. There was a smudge of red along the high cheekbones on the schoolmarm face.

"Like a part-time plumber? Hardly. He has an office in Los Angeles."

"Do you have the address, Mrs. Valentine?"

"Certainly not. Les comes and goes as he will. Our marriage is perfectly founded on trust. I don't need to know his office address."

I let my eyes run over the glamour photos mounted on the wall. Several of the women were famous, two movie stars, one a model who'd been on the cover of Life . All were signed in the lower right corner in gold in the distinctive small hand.

Mrs. Valentine was watching me. Her glass was nearly full again.

"You think I fear those women, Mr. Marlowe? You think I can't keep him at home?"

She put her drink on the sideboard and half turned so I could see her in partial profile and ran her hands over her breasts and down along her body, smoothing the fabric on her thighs.

"Zowie," I said.

She stared at me, holding the pose, the dark rose color spreading across her cheeks. Then she chuckled, a nasty, bubbly little sound.

"The $100,000 is a matter between you and Les and that dreadful Mr. Lipshultz. If you want to play your little boy games, go ahead. I will await the…" she made a gentle hiccup "… outcome." She sipped her drink.

"What is that stuff?" I said. "It smells like plant food."

"Good-bye, Mr. Marlowe."

I stood, put on my hat and went out of there. She was still posing with her chest stuck out. There was a big potted palm tree on the front porch. I looked at it as I went by.

"Maybe she'll give you some," I said.

Tino was at the door when I pulled the Olds in beside Linda's Fleetwood.

"Mrs. Marlowe is by the pool, sir."

"Thank you, Tino, how does she look?"

"Very lovely, sir."

"That's correct, Tino."

Tino smiled widely. I went through the make-believe living room and out onto the patio by the pool. Linda was on a pale blue chaise, wearing a one-piece white bathing suit and a pale blue wide-brimmed hat that matched the chaise. On the low white table next to the chaise a tall narrow glass contained something with fruit in it. Linda looked up from her book.

"Darling, have you had a hard day talking with Mr. Lipshultz?"

I took off my coat and loosened my tie. I sat in the pale blue chair beside the chaise. Linda ran one fingernail along the crease of my pants.

"Did my big detective get all worn out working all day?"

Tino appeared at the patio door.

"May I bring you something, sir?"

I smiled gratefully.

"A gimlet," I said. "Make it a double."

Tino nodded and disappeared.

"I talked to Lipshultz," I said. "I also talked to Mrs. Les Valentine."

Linda raised her eyebrows. "Muffy Blackstone?"

"Woman maybe forty-five," I said. "Looks like someone pasted the head of a schoolteacher on the body of a Varga girl."

"That's Muffy. Though I'm not sure I like you noticing the body."

"Just doing my job," I said.

"She's Clayton Blackstone's daughter. He's a friend of Daddy's. Very wealthy. At forty she married for the first time, a nobody. The Springs was in an uproar."

"What do you know about Les?"

"Very little. No money, no distinction. It is assumed he married her for her money. Clayton Blackstone is perhaps wealthier than Daddy."

"Heavens," I said.

"He seems quite a drab little man," Linda said.

"Yeah," I said. "Probably has a run-down office someplace, over a garage."

"Oh, darling," Linda said. "Don't be such a bastard."

Tino appeared with a large square glass set on a squat stem. He took it carefully off the tray and set it down on a napkin by my elbow. He looked at Linda's glass, noticed it was nearly full and went silently away.

"What does Clayton Blackstone do?" I said.

"He is wealthy," she said. "That's what he does."

"Like your daddy," I said.

Linda smiled brightly. I sipped some of the gimlet. It was clean and cold and slid down through the desert parch like a fresh rain.

"Hard to make all that money," I said, "without getting your hands a little dirty."

"Daddy never said that."

"No, I'll bet he didn't."

"Why do you say that? What are you doing talking to Muffy Blackstone?"

"Valentine."

"Muffy Valentine."

I drank another swallow of the gimlet. The pool glistened blue and still beside me.

"Her husband is into Lippy for a hundred g's."

"Into?"

"Lippy took his marker. Mrs. Valentine had always bailed him out before. This time she won't. Says he's got to grow up, and settle this debt himself."

"Well, good for her. I'm sure he's been a dreadful trial."

"She seems a little trying herself," I said.

"Yes, I suppose she is," Linda said. A beautiful frown wrinkle appeared briefly between her eyebrows. I leaned over and kissed it. "She was single all that time and devoted to Daddy, and all… She drinks a little too much, too."

"Anyway. Guy Lippy works for is unhappy about getting stuck for a hundred g's, told Lippy he had thirty days to get it back. Lippy can't find Les. Mrs. Valentine says he's off doing still work on a picture set. Lippy says if he doesn't get it back his boss will send a couple of hard boys out to see him. So Lippy hired me to find Les and talk him into giving Lippy his hundred thousand."

"Well, if anyone can do it, I'm sure you can. Look how you've been able to talk me right out of my clothes," Linda said.

"As I recall I don't get the chance to," I said. I looked at the pool. "Have you ever…?"

"In a pool?" Linda said. "Darling, you are a beast. Besides, what about Tino?"

"I don't care if Tino's ever done anything in a pool," I said.

We each drank a little bit of our drink. The desert evening was already cooling, and the desert sounds were starting to dwindle. I listened to it for a while, looking at the arch of Linda's foot. Linda listened too.

"Funny thing," I said after a while, "the big boss, guy was going to put the heat on Lippy. His name was Blackstone."

"Clayton Blackstone?"

"I don't know. Probably a different Blackstone."

"Oh, I'm sure," Linda said.

Tino came in a little while with two more drinks on a tray. He took away the empty glasses and was gone as silently as he'd come. Except when he served you it was as if he didn't exist. High up a prairie hawk moved in slow circles, riding the wind's currents, its spread wings nearly motionless.

"Why would you do this, darling? Work for this man Lipshultz?"

"It's my profession," I said.

"Even though you don't need the money?"

I sighed. "You don't need the money. I do. I don't have any put aside."

"But a man like Lipshultz?"

"In my business you don't get all well-bred upper-class people who have good manners and live in safe neighborhoods," I said. "In my kind of work Lipshultz is well above average."

"Then why not get into another business?" Linda said.

"I like my work," I said.