The Maltese falcon Read Online Free PDF Page B

which she did not lift her eyes to see, and said nothing.
    "That-that story I told you yesterday was all-a story," she stammered, and looked up at him now with miserable frightened eyes.
    "Oh, that," Spade said lightly. "We didn't exactly believe your story."
    "Then-?" Perplexity was added to the misery and fright in her eyes.
    "We believed your two hundred dollars."
    "You mean-?" She seemed to not know what he meant.
    "I mean that you paid us more than if you'd been telling the truth," he explained blandly, "and enough more to make it all right."
    Her eyes suddenly lighted up. She lifted herself a few inches from the settee, settled down again, smoothed her skirt, leaned forward, and spoke eagerly: "And even now you'd be willing to-?"
    Spade stopped her with a palm-up motion of one hand. The upper part of his face frowned. The lower part smiled. "That depends," he said. "The hell of it is, Miss- Is your name Wonderly or Leblanc?"
    She blushed and murmured: "It's really O'Shaughnessy-Brigid O'Shaughnessy."
    "The hell of it is, Miss O'Shaughnessy, that a couple of murders"- she winced-"coming together like this get everybody stirred up, make the police think they can go the limit, make everybody hard to handle and expensive. It's not-" He stopped talking because she had stopped listening and was waiting for him to finish.
    "Mr. Spade, tell me the truth." Her voice quivered on time verge of hysteria. Her face had become haggard around desperate eyes. "Am I to blame for-for last night?"
    Spade shook his head. "Not unless there are things I don't know about," he said. "You warned us that Thursby was dangerous. Cf course you lied to us about your sister and all, but that doesn't count: we didn't believe you." He shrugged his sloping shoulders. "I wouldn't say it was your fault."
    She said, "Thank you," very softly, and then moved her head from side to side. "But I'll always blanie myself." She put a hand to her throat. "Mr. Archer was so-so alive yesterday afternoon, so solid and hearty and-"
    "Stop it," Spade commanded. "He knew what he was doing. They're the chances we take."
    "Was-was he married?"
    "Yes, with ten thousand insurance, no children, and a wife who didn't like him."
    "Oh, please don't!" she whispered.
    Spade shrugged again. "That's the way it was." He glanced at his watch and moved from his chair to the settee beside her. "There's no time for worrying about that now." His voice was pleasant but firm. "Out there a flock of policemen and assistant district attorneys and reporters are running around with their noses to the ground. What do you want to do?"
    "I want you to save me from-from it all," she replied in a thin tremulous voice. She put a timid hand on his sleeve. "Mr. Spade, do they know about me?"
    "Not yet. I wanted to see you first."
    "What-what would they think if they knew about the way I came to you-with those lies?"
    "It would make them suspicious. That's why I've been stalling them till I could see you. I thought maybe we wouldn't have to let them know all of it. We ought to be able to fake a story that will rock them to sleep, if necessary."
    "You don't think I had anything to do with the-the murders-do you?"
    Spade grinned at her and said: "I forgot to ask you that. Did you?"
    "No."
    "That's good. Now what are we going to tell the police?"
    She squirmed on her end of the settee and her eyes wavered between heavy lashes, as if trying and failing to free their gaze from his. She seemed smaller, and very young and oppressed. "Must they know about me at all?" she asked. "I think I'd rather die than that, Mr. Spade. I can't explain now, but can't you somehow manage so that you can shield me from them, so I won't have to answer their questions? I don't think I could stand being questioned now. I think I would rather die. Can't you, Mr. Spade?"
    "Maybe," he said, "but I'll have to know what it's all about."
    She went down on her knees at his knees. She held her face up to him. Her face was wan, taut, and