Дональд Уэстлейк - Collected Stories

Just the Lady We’re Looking For, Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , September 1964

K

Knife Fighter, Guilty Detective Story Magazine , November 1959

L

The Last Ghost, Mystery Digest , November-December 1959

Last-Minute Shopping, New York Times Book Review , 1993

The Ledge Bit, Mystery Digest , September/October 1959

The Letter, Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine , August 1965

Lock Your Door, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , August 1962

Look Before You Leap, Analog Science Fiction/Science Fact , May 1962

Love in the Lean Years, Playboy , February 1992

M

Man of Action, Analog Science Fiction/Science Fact , December 1960

Matin’s Place, Escapade , August 1958

Meteor Strike! Amazing Stories , November 1961

The Method, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , October 1965

The Mother of Invention Is Worth a Pound of Cure, Dapper , February 1966

The Mulligan Stew, Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , January 1979

My Father’s Chair, The Vincentian , May 1951

N

Nackles, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction , January 1964

Never Shake a Family Tree, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , March 1961

Now What? Playboy , December 1999

O

One on a Desert Island, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , June 1959

Or Give Me Death, Universe Science Fiction , November 1954

Ordo, Enough , 1977

P

Paid in Full, Swank , November 1965

Party Animal, Playboy , December 1992

The Perils of the Sky Rangers, Cavalier , May 1966

Q

The Question, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction , March 1963

R

Re Porter, Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , July 1982

Requiem for a Tramp! Two-Fisted Detective Stories , January 1960

The Risk Profession, Amazing Stories , March 1961

Rumble Bait, Off Beat Detective Stories , February 1959

S

Scramble My Brains! Off Beat Detective Stories , November 1959

Sinner or Saint, Mystery Digest , December 1958

The Sincerest of Flattery, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , October 1966

Skeeks, Playboy , June 1995

Sniff, The Saint Magazine , May 1967

The Sound of Murder, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , December 1962

Spectacles, Playboy , May 2001

The Spoils System, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine , December 1965

The Spy in the Elevator, Galaxy Science Fiction , October 1961

Stage Fright, The Saint Mystery Magazine , September 1965

The Sweetest Man in the World, Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine , March 1967

T

Take It Away, Mary Higgins Clark Mystery Magazine , Summer/Fall 1997

Teamwork, Shell Scott Mystery Magazine , February 1966

The Terror Queen! Two-Fisted Detective Stories , July 1959

Terror’s Sultry Sister! Web Detective Stories , July 1959

They Also Serve, Analog Science Fact & Fiction , September 1961

Too Many Crooks, Playboy , August 1989

Travelers Far and Wee, Science Fiction Stories , May 1960

U

The Ultimate Caper, New York Times Magazine , May 11, 1975

V

Veronica, The Vincentian , May 1951

W

Walking Around Money, Transgressions , 2005

The Winner, Nova 1 , 1970

The World’s a Stage, Playboy , July 1984

He could run but he couldn’t hide—

His name was William. He would have liked to be called Bill, or even Will. But he was one of those poor unfortunate boys with too many brains and too little muscle. In school work, he was superb; but in sports or fights he was somewhat less than terrible. This affliction cost him many bruises, both physical and mental. But the worst thing of all was his name. The others had tired of calling him “sissy” and “baby,” so they decided to give him a name that would fully express their scorn of his intelligence and lack of physical ability. Accordingly, he was dubbed, for all time, Veronica.

Veronica lived in constant fear. He always went to the school bus at a dead run, with shouting fiends chasing him with insensate glee. He always sat directly behind the bus driver and, when the bus stopped at his corner, was always out and away like a flushed quail. In school, he was always dodging guided missiles ranging from wads of paper to geography books. The noon recess was his worst enemy. During this time, lie avoided the playground as though it were Hades itself. He might even have preferred Hades.

Veronica’s worst tormenter was a charming boy variously called Peter by his mother; Mr. Austin by the teacher; and, for no known reason, Tinker by the other boys. Tinker’s favorite sport was to get on the school bus behind Veronica and, with a few well-placed shoves, punches, and kicks, force the unfortunate one to the back of the bus, where he was subjected to varied and ingenious tortures known to all and sundry as innocent fun or boys will be boys. By a strange, warped fate, Veronica and Tinker got off the bus at the same stop, along with four other young sadists.

On one particular day, when Veronica had received, among other things, a bloody nose, from his recreations in the back of the bus, he was given an extra indignity. He was forced to carry the other five boys’ books from the bus. His own were already out the window, so that the load was not too heavy. While the other boys stood behind him, to make sure lie didn’t balk. Tinker stepped out in front of him, gave him an elbow in the stomach, and said, “Wait’ll a man gets off, Veronica.” After which, he stepped grandly from the bus.

At that very moment, something snapped inside Veronica. With a healthy heave he sent the assorted books crashing down on Tinker’s grandiose head, and followed them personally, in a flapping nosedive. The two boys landed in a heap, and an enormous cloud of dust rose to cover the proceedings for a moment. No one on the entire bus moved. They were all so surprised at the suddenness and the identity of the attacker. Even the bus driver sat stock still, his mouth hanging open. Never in his entire career had he seen anyone leave the bus in this high-dive manner. He sat there, trying without success to figure out just how it had been done, and then finally got dazedly to his feet, and looked out the window at the fray. That was when he got his big surprise.

But if you think the onlooker’s surprise was great, imagine the surprise of friend Tinker for, as the dust rose gracefully from the combatants, there was Veronica, sitting astride the prostrate Tinker, pounding away with his left fist at Tinker’s face, which he kept exposed by the simple expedient of holding in his right hand most of Tinker’s hair.