Klick, the Dick. Milam Smith. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Milam Smith
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781619331167
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the guys seemed in awe of Chan. They had listened to him reverently while casting squinty looks at me. Chan was well-known, especially after what he did the last time Reagan had visited the city.

      That wasn’t the only reason they ended up cutting us some slack. Chan had used Thomas Shinn’s name. He was a close friend, and a Loo’tenant on the force. And then there’s the Chief of Police’s policy. Cooperate with private detectives whenever possible. He looked at it like having free help. Of course, us dicks weren’t mentioned in the reports. That was the trade-off. They got the credit for the busts. P.I.s don’t like a lot of attention anyway. Chan wasn’t really a private dick, although I was.

      Finally they had dismissed us, after getting Chan’s autograph.

      I yawned dramatically after Chan told me the time. I gave him a mean white-boy look and told him I had a noon movie to catch. Then I asked him where he got the badge, since he wasn’t a cop anymore.

      “Shinn.”

      “Oh.” That still didn’t tell me much. Chan wasn’t elaborating, though. Sometimes he’s like that. Playing the oriental stereotype, even though he was a fifth-generation Texan.

      The cops left, and the ambulance had long ago left. I had given Chan back his shotgun. I didn’t own a shotgun, but if I did it wouldn’t have been loaded with salt. Twelve one-ounce pellets would be more my style.

      “What movie?” Chan wanted to know.

      “It’s a case I’m working on.”

      “A private investigator hired to watch movies?” Chan snickered. “Maybe I’m in the wrong line of work.”

      “It’s on Main Street.”

      He analyzed that in a few seconds. Then he smiled. “I get it,” he said.

      “Only in your sleep,” I said to him over my shoulder as I walked away.

      2

      Rivkin hadn’t heard anything quite like this the five years he’d been practicing psychiatry. He felt nauseous, and for a moment he thought he was going to toss his lunch. Then he remembered the $400 suit he was wearing. Maybe if he just talked. Concentrate.

      “How did you feel after shooting that man? You seem almost flip about it.”

      “Would that be so bad? He shot first. It ain’t like he was Jesus Christ, either.”

      “But if your friend had not put rock salt in the weapon, you would have blown the man’s head off.”

      “Oh yeah? Well, that same friend nearly blew the other guy’s leg off. Besides, is it better one man’s blind rather than dead? Wonder how he feels about it.”

      “Yes, I see. How do you think he feels about it?”

      “Doc, I’m here for me, not him.”

      “Yes, but you began to reason how that man might feel about losing his eyesight.”

      “Well, he didn’t, but that was later I found that out. I don’t know. I’ve always been a bit empathetic. I mean, there’s two sides to every coin, it’s been said. So I’ve always—”

      “Stood in the middle so you could see both sides?”

      “Well…. That’s weird, Doc. How do you do that? I just call it being fair.”

      “But you reacted instinctively.”

      “No, everything seemed to flash in my head a split second, way down deep. The upshot was, the guy fired first, and would’ve fired again. So…. Look, Doc. I doubt myself enough now as it is. That’s why I’m here. Somehow now, looking back at everything in my life, I feel I must be making the wrong decisions or my life wouldn’t crash around me. You’re just making me wonder more about whether or not I’m right or wrong.”

      “Ah.”

      “Ah what?”

      “Does it always have to be right or wrong? Never an in-between?”

      “Is the sun hot?”

      “What? I don’t see—”

      “Ah!”

      “Ah what?”

      “The sun is hot, that’s all it can be. See, everything is something or it’s something else.”

      “Mr. Klick, this will be an expensive philosophy course if this keeps up. Let’s go on to what happened next, after the incident in the warehouse.”

      “The incident in the warehouse? Look, you sound like a book. Anyway, see, what happened next was Life twisted the blade a bit. I didn’t know the blade was there. Like a delayed reaction.”

      “What exactly are you getting at, Mr. Klick?”

      “Well, I believe there’s a true love for everyone, you know? And what happened next was I met mine.”

      “But Mr. Klick, you said you were already married.”

      “Yeah, that’s what I was telling you. Life was wiggling its toes after sticking its foot up my…well… you know…”

      The Movies

      “Oh yes, yes,” the one lady said with exaggerated feeling.

      “Oh baby, yeah. Oh baby, yeah,” one guy responded, sounding more into it.

      “Love it, baby, love it,” the other guy said, although he was looking at the other couple.

      “Mmmff, mmmff,” said the second girl. I assumed she was saying either ‘love it’ or ‘yes yes,’ but I wouldn’t swear to it.

      The snappy dialogue, accompanied by slurping sound-effects, was coming from the four naked bodies squirming around up on the small movie screen. I shifted in my seat. It was not exactly my favorite flick, although I’d been here twelve o’clock sharp the last three days.

      The theater was so dark I wondered if a projector was being used. Two rows in front of me were two heads just visible above the seats. One head was dark-haired and the other one blond. The woman married to the man with black hair was not blond. In fact, she had hired me. Every now and then the two heads would merge—accompanied by slurping sound-effects better than on the screen. At least once during the movie one head or the other would dip from view. More slurping and groaning. Didn’t leave much to the imagination considering the locale.

      A man in a red dress sidled down my aisle, sat down next to me and put his hand on my leg. I turned and stared at him. He seemed about to say something but after seeing my face in a flare of film-light he thought better of it and got the hell away from me. Being ugly comes in handy sometimes.

      I turned my attention back to the two heads. Black-hair was gone, and Blondie was moaning something fierce.

      On the screen there was a symphony of keening sexual release. The bodies momentarily put on their clothes and got back to the plot; one of those plots involving international intrigue, a chauffeur and a man walking a poodle. The poodle was central to the plot.

      I joined the rush to the lobby. Popcorn time. There were about fifty seats in the theater, I guessed, split into three sections. Besides me and the two heads and the man in a red dress there were about fifteen people attending the—ahem—movie.

      The lobby was a glaring relief. Sunlight was forcing its way through the huge, darkly-tinted lobby windows that looked out on Fort Worth’s Main Street. The light had a cleansing effect. Then I looked at the refreshment counter. Next to the popcorn bin there were various sex-aids for sell. I was careful not to order a hot dog. On the shelf behind the topless lady taking my order for a drink there were boxes of porno videos for sale. Chains and whips hung decoratively on the wall.

      I took one sip from my Seven-Up, remembered where I was, and then deposited