Spade & Archer: the prequel to Dashiell Hammett's The maltese falcon

by Joe Gores

  Brigid O'Shaughmessy stood in an angle made by table and wall. One of her hands was flat on the table, the other to her breast. She pinched her lower hip between her teeth and glanced furtively at Spade whenever he was not looking at her. When he looked at her she looked at Cairo and the boy.

  Gutman's face had lost its troubled cast and was becoming rosy again. He had put his hands in his trousers-pockets. He stood facing Spade. watching him without curiosity.

  Spade, idly jingling his handful of pistols, nodded at Cairo's rounded back and asked Gutman: "It'll be all right with him?"

  "I don't know," the fat man replied placidly. "That part will have to be strictly up to you, sir."

  Spade's smile made his v-shaped chin more salient. He said: "Cairo."

  The Levantine screwed his dark anxious face around over his shoulder.

  Spade said: "Let him rest awhile. We're going to give him to the police. We ought to get the details fixed before he comes to."

  Cairo asked bitterly: "Don't you think you've done enough to him without thiat?"

  Spade said: "No."

  Cairo left the sofa and went close to the fat man. "Please don't do this thing, Mr. Gutman," he begged. "You must realize that--"

  Spade interrupted him: "That's settled. The question is, what are you going to do about it? Coming in? Or getting out?"

  Though Gutman's smile was a bit sad, even wistful in its way, he nodded his head. "I don't like it either," he told the Levantine, "but we can't help ourselves now. We really can't."

  Spade asked: "What are you doing, Cairo? In or out?"

  Cairo wet his lips and turned slowly to face Spade. "Suppose," he said, and swallowed. "Have I--? Can I choose?"

  "You can," Spade assured him seriously, "but you ought to know that if the answer is out we'll give you to the police with your boy-friend."

  "Oh, come, Mr. Spade," Gutman protested, "that is not--"

  "Like hell we'll let him walk out on us," Spade said. "He'll either come in or he'll go in. We can't have a lot of loose ends hanging around." He scowled at Gutman and burst out irritably: "Jesus God! is this the first thing you guys ever stoic? You're a fine lot of lollipops! What are you going to do next--get down and pray?" He directed his scowl at Cairo. "Well? Which?"

  "You give me no chioice." Cairo's narrow shoulders moved in a hopeless shrug. "I come in."

  "Good," Spade said and looked at Gutman and at Brigid O'Shaughnessy. "Sit down."

  The girl sat down gingerly on the end of the sofa by the unconscious boy's feet. Gutman returned to the padded rocking chair, and Cairo to the arnichair. Spade put his handful of pistols on the table and sat on the table-corner beside them. He looked at the watch on his wrist and said: "Two o'clock. I can't get the falcon till daylight, or maybe eight o'clock. We've got plenty of time to arrange everything."

  Gutman cleared his throat. "Where is it?" he asked and then added in haste: "I don't really care, sir. What I had in mind was that it would be best for all concerned if we did not get out of each other's sight until our business has been transacted." He looked at the sofa and at Spade again, sharply. "You have the envelope?"

  Spade shook his head, looking at the sofa and then at the girl. He smiled with his eyes and said: "Miss O'Shaughnessy has it."

  "Yes, I have it," she murmured, putting a hand inside her coat. "I picked it up

  "That's all right," Spade told her. "Hang on to it." He addressed Gutman: "We won't have to lose Sight of each other. I can have the falcon brought here."

  "That will be excellent," Gutman purred. "Then, sir, in exchange for the ten thousand dollars and Wilmer you will give us the falcon and an hour or two of grace--so we won't be in the city when you surrender him to the authorities."

  "You don't have to duck," Spade said. "It'll be air-tight."

  "That may be, sir, but nevertheless we'll feel safer well out of the city when Wilmer is being questioned by your District Attorney."

  "Suit yourself," Spade replied. "I can hold him here all day if you want." He began to roll a cigarette. "Let's get the details fixed. Why did he shoot Thursby? And why and where and how did he shoot Jacobi?"

  Gutman smiled indulgently, shaking his head and purring: "Now come, sir, you can't expect that. We've given you the money and Wilmer. That is our part of the agreement."

  "I do expect it," Spade said. He held his lighter to his cigarette. "A fail-guy is what I asked for, and he's not a fall-guy unless he's a cinch to take the fall. Well, to cinch that I've got to know what's what." He pulled his brows together. "What are you bellyaching about? You're not going to be sitting so damned pretty if you leave him with an out."

  Gutman leaned forward and wagged a fat finger at the pistols on the table beside Spade's legs. "There's ample evidence of his guilt, sir. Both men were shot with those weapons. It's a very simple matter for the police-department-experts to determine that the bullets that killed the men were fired from those weapons. You know that; you've mentioned it yourself. And that, it seems to me, is ample proof of his guilt."

  "Maybe," Spade agreed, "but the thing's snore complicated than that and I've got to know what happened so I can be sure the parts that won't fit in are covered up."

  Cairo's eyes were round and hot. "Apparently you've forgotten that you assured us it would be a very simple affair," Cairo said. He turned his excited dark face to Gutman. "You see! I advised you not to do this. I don't think--"

  "It doesn't make a damned bit of difference what either of you think," Spade said bluntly. "It's too late for that now and you're in too deep. WThy did he kill Thurshy?"

  Gutman interlaced his fingers over his belly and rocked his chair. His voice, like his smile, was frankly rueful. "You are an uncommonly difficult person to get the best of," he said. "I begin to think that we made a mistake in not letting you alone from the very first. By Gad, I do, sir!"

  Spade moved his hand carelessly. "You haven't done so bad. You're staying out of jail and you're getting the falcon. What do you want?" He put his cigarette in a corner of his mouth and said around it: "An how you know where you stand now. Why did he kill Thursby?"

  Gutman stopped rocking. "Thursby was a notorious killer and Miss O'Shaughnessy's ally. We knew that removing him in just that manner would make her stop and think that perhaps it would be best to patch up her differences with us after all, besides leaving her without so violent a protector. You see, sir, I am being candid with you?"

  "Yes. Keep it up. You didn't think he might have the falcon?"

  Gutman shook his head so that his round checks wobbled. "We didn't think that for a minute," he replied. He smiled benevolently. "We had the advantage of knowing Miss O'Shaughnessv far too well for that and, while we didn't know then that she had given the falcon to Captain Jacobi in Hongkong to be brought over on the Paloma while they took a faster boat, still we didn't for a minute think that, if only one of them knew where it was, Thursby was the one."

  Spade nodded thoughtfully and asked: "You didn't try to make a deal with him before you gave him the works?"

  "Yes, sir, we certainly did. I talked to him myself that night. Wilmer had located him two days before and had been trying to follow him to wherever he was meeting Miss O'Shaughnessy, but Thursby was too crafty for that even if he didn't know he was being watched. So that night Wilmer went to his hotel, learned he wasn't in, and waited outside for him. I suppose Thursby returned immediately after killing your partner. Be that as it may, Wilmer brought him to see me. We could do nothing with him. He was quite determinedly loyal to Miss O'Shaughnessy. Well, sir, Wilmer followed him back to his hotel and did what he did."

  Spade thought for a moment. "That sounds all right. Now Jacobi."

  Gutman looked at Spade with grave eves and said: "Captain Jacobi's death was entirely Miss O'Shaughncssv's fault."

  The girl gasped, "Oh!" and put a hand to her mouth.

  Spade's voice was heavy and even. "Never mind that now. Tell me what happened."

  After a shrewd ho
ok at Spade, Gutman smiled. "Just as you say, sir," he said. "Well, Cairo, as you know, got in touch with me--I sent for him-- after he left police headquarters the night--or morning--he was up here. We recognized the mutual advantage of pooling forces." He directed his smile at the Levantine. "Mr. Cairo is a man of nice judgment. The Paloma was his thought. He saw the notice of its arrival in the papers that morning and remembered that he had heard in Hongkong that Jacobi and Miss O'Shaughnessy had been seen together. That was when he had been trying to find her there, and he thought at first that she had left on the Paloina, though later he learned that si-ic hadn't. Weih, sir, when he saw the notice of arrival in the paper he guessed just what had happened: si-ic had given the bird to Jacobi to bring here for her. Jacobi did not know what it was, of course. Miss O'Shaughnessv is too discreet for that."

  He beamed at the girl, rocked his chair twice, and went on: "Mr. Cairo and Wilmer and I went to call on Captain Jacobi and were fortunate enough to arrive while Miss O'Shaughnessy w'as there. In many ways it was a difficult conference, but finally, by midnight w'e had persuaded Miss O'Shaughnessy to come to terms, or so we thought. We then left the boat and set out for my hotel, where I was to pay Miss O'Shaughnessy and receive the bird. Well, sir, we mere men should have known better than to suppose ourselves capable of coping with her. En route, she and Captain Jacobi and the falcon slipped completely through our fingers." He laughed merrily. "By Gad, sir, it was neatly done."

  Spade looked at the girl. Her eyes, large and dark with pleading, met his. He asked Gutman: "You touched off the boat before you left?"

  "Not intentionally, no, sir," the fat n-ian replied, "though I dare say we--or Wilmer at least--were responsible for the fire. He had been out trying to find the falcon while the rest of us were talking in the cabin and no doubt was careless with matches."

  "That's fine," Spade said. "If any slip-up makes it necessary for us to try him for Jacobi's murder we can also hang an arson-rap on him. All right. Now about the shooting."

  "Well, sir, we dashed around town all day trying to find them and we found them late this afternoon. We weren't sure at first that we'd found them. All we were sure of was that we'd found Miss O'Shaughnessy's apartment. But when we listened at the door we heard them moving around inside, so we were pretty confident we had them and rang the bell. 'When she asked us who we were and we told her--through the door--we heard a window going up.

  "We knew what that meant, of course; so Wilmer hurried downstairs as fast as he could and around to the rear of the building to cover the fire-escape. And when he turned into the alley he ran right plumb smack into Captain Jacobi running away with the falcon under his arm. That was a difficult situation to handle, but Wilmer did every bit as well as he could. He shot Jacobi--more than once--but Jacobi was too tough to either fall or drop the falcon, and he was too close for Wilmer to keep out of his way. He knocked Wilmer down and ran on. And this was in broad daylight, you understand, in the afternoon. When Wilmer got up he could see a policeman coming up from the block below. So he had to give it up. He dodged into the open back door of the building next the Coronet, through into the street, and then up to join us--and very fortunate he was, sir, to make it without being seen.

  "Well, sir, there we were--stumped again. Miss O'Shaughnessy had opened the door for Mr. Cairo and me after she had shut the window behind Jacobi, and she--" He broke off to smile at a memory. "We persuaded--that is the word, sir--her to tell us that she had told Jacobi to take the falcon to you. It seemed very unlikely that he'd live to go that far, even if the police didn't pick him up, but that was the only chance we had, sir. And so, once more, we persuaded Miss O'Shaughnessy to give us a little assistance. We--well--persuaded her to phone your office in an attempt to draw you away before Jacobi got there, and we sent Wilmer after him. Unfortunately it had taken us too long to decide and to persuade Miss O'Shaughnessy to--"

  The boy on the sofa groaned and roiled over on his side. His eyes opened and closed several times. The girl stood up and moved into the angle of table and wall again.

  "--cooperate with us," Gutman concluded hurriedly, "and so you had the falcon before we could reach you."

  The boy put one foot on the floor, raised himself on an elbow, opened his eyes wide, put the other foot down, sat up, and looked around. When his eyes focused on Spade bewilderment went out of them.

  Cairo left his armchair and went over to the boy. He put his arm on the boy's shoulders and started to say something. The boy rose quickly to his feet, shaking Cairo's arm off. He glanced around the room once and then fixed his eyes on Spade again. His face was set hard and he held his body so tense that it seemed drawn in and shrunken.

  Spade, sitting on the corner of the table, swinging his legs carelessly, said: "Now listen, kid. If you come over here and start cutting up I'm going to kick you in the face. Sit down and shut up and behave and you'll last longer."

  The boy looked at Gutman.

  Gutman smiled benignly at him and said: "Well, Wilmer, I'm sorry indeed to lose you, and I want you to know that I couldn't be any fonder of you if you were my own son; but--well, by Gad!--if you lose a son it's possible to get another--and there's only one Maltese falcon."

  Spade laughed.

  Cairo moved over and whispered in the boy's ear. The boy, keeping his cold hazel eyes on Gutman's face, sat down on the sofa again. The Levantine sat beside him.

  Gutman's sigh did not affect the benignity of his smile. He said to Spade: "When you're young you simply don't understand things."

  Cairo had an arm around the boy's shoulders again and was whispering to him. Spade grinned at Gutman and addressed Brigid O'Shaughnessy: "I think it'd be swell if you'd see what you can find us to eat in the kitchen, with plenty of coffee. Will you? I don't like to leave my guests."

  "Surely," she said and started towards the door.

  Gutman stopped rocking. "Just a moment, my dear." He held up a thick hand. "Hadn't you better leave the envelope in here? You don't want to get grease-spots on it."

  The girl's eyes questioned Spade. He said in an indifferent tone: "It's still his."

  She put her hand inside her coat, took out the envelope, and gave it to Spade. Spade tossed it into Gutman's lap, saying: "Sit dn it if you're afraid of losing it."

  "You misunderstand me," Gutman replied suavely. "It's not that at all, but business should be transacted in a business-like manner." He opened the flap of the envelope, took out the thousand-dollar bills, counted them, and chuckled so that his belly bounced. "For instance there are only nine bills here now." He spread them out on his fat knees and thighs. "There were ten when I handed it to you, as you very well know." His smile was broad and jovial and triumphant.

  Spade looked at Brigid O'Shaughnessy and asked: "Well?"

  She shook her head sidewise with emphasis. She did not say anything, though her lips moved slightly, as if she had tried to. Her face was frightened.

  Spade held his hand out to Gutman and the fat man put the money into it. Spade counted the money--nine thousand-dollar bills--and returned it to Gutman. Then Spade stood up and his face was dull and placid. He picked up the three pistols on the table. He spoke in a matterof-fact voice. "I want to know about this. We"--he nodded at the girl, but without hooking at her--"are going in the bathroom. The door will be open and I'll be facing it. Unless you want a three-story drop there's no way out of here except past the bathroom door. Don't try to make it."

  "Really, sir," Gutman protested, "it's not necessary, and certainly not very courteous of you, to threaten us in this manner. You must know that we've not the least desire to leave."

  "I'll know a lot when I'm through." Spade was patient but resolute. "This trick upsets things. I've got to find the answer. It won't take long." He touched the girl's elbow. "Come on."