Farewell, My Lovely by Raymond Chandler Page A

suspect Marriott of having socked me--other things being equal. Although I didn't suspect him after he was killed."
    "The way you were socked fits best of all," Randall said. "You didn't tell Marriott you had a gun, but he may have seen the bulge under your arm or at least suspected you had a gun. In that case he would want to hit you when you suspected nothing. And you wouldn't suspect anything from the back of the car."
    "Okey," I said. "You win. It's a good theory, always supposing the money was not Marriott's and that he wanted to steal it and that he had an accomplice. So his plan is that we both wake up with bumps on our heads and the money is gone and we say so sorry and I go home and forget all about it. Is that how it ends? I mean is that how he expected it to end? It had to look good to him too, didn't it?"
    Randall smiled wryly. "I don't like it myself. I was just trying it out. It fits the facts--as far as I know them, which is not far."
    "We don't know enough to even start theorizing," I said. "Why not assume he was telling the truth and that he perhaps recognized one of the stick-up men?"
    "You say you heard no struggle, no cry?"
    "No. But he could have been grabbed quickly, by the throat. Or he could have been too scared to cry out when they jumped him. Say they were watching from the bushes and saw me go down the hill. I went some distance, you know. A good hundred feet. They go over to look into the car and see Marriott. Somebody sticks a gun in his face and makes him get out--quietly. Then he's sapped down. But something he says, or some way he looks, makes them think he has recognized somebody."
    "In the dark?"
    "Yes," I said. "It must have been something like that. Some voices stay in your mind. Even in the dark people are recognized."
    Randall shook his head. "If this was an organized gang of jewel thieves, they wouldn't kill without a lot of provocation." He stopped suddenly and his eyes got a glazed look. He closed his mouth very slowly, very tight. He had an idea. "Hijack," he said.
    I nodded. "I think that's an idea."
    "There's another thing," he said. "How did you get here?"
    "I drove my car."
    "Where was your car?"
    "Down at Montemar Vista, in the parking lot by the sidewalk cafe."
    He looked at me very thoughtfully. The dicks behind him looked at me suspiciously. The drunk in the cells tried to yodel, but his voice cracked and that discouraged him. He began to cry.
    "I walked back to the highway," I said. "I flagged a car. A girl was driving it alone. She stopped and took me down.".
    "Some girl," Randall said. "It was late at night, on a lonely road, and she stopped."
    "Yeah. Some of them will do that. I didn't get to know her, but she seemed nice." I stared at them, knowing they didn't believe me and wondering why I was lying about it.
    "It was a small car," I said. "A Chevvy coupe. I didn't get the license number."
    "Haw, he didn't get the license number," one of the dicks said and spat into the wastebasket again.
    Randall leaned forward and stared at me carefully. "If you're holding anything back with the idea of working on this case yourself to make yourself a little publicity, I'd forget it, Marlowe. I don't like all the points in your story and I'm going to give you the night to think it over. Tomorrow I'll probably ask you for a sworn statement. In the meantime let me give you a tip. This is a murder and a police job and we wouldn't want your help, even if it was good. All we want from you is facts. Get me?"
    "Sure. Can I go home now? I don't feel any too well."
    "You can go home now." His eyes were icy.
    I got up and started towards the door in a dead silence. When I had gone four steps Randall cleared his throat and said carelessly:
    "Oh, one small point. Did you notice what kind of cigarettes Marriott smoked?"
    I turned. "Yes. Brown ones. South American, in a French enamel case."
    He leaned forward and pushed the embroidered silk case out of the pile of junk on the table and then pulled it