Cain, James M. / Кейн, Джеймс - Собрание сочинений (36 произведений) [2010-2015, epub, ENG]

The Postman Always Rings Twice / Почтальон всегда звонит дважды 2010, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-0-307-77294-7, Vintage Crime/Black Lizard Three by Cain 2011, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-0-307-79179-5, Vintage Crime/Black Lizard Mildred Pierce / Милдред Пирс 2010, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4091-3239-4, Orion Past All Dishonor / Бесчестье 2013, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9166-5, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media Sinful Woman / Грешница 2013, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9164-1, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media The Moth / Мотылек 2012, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9162-7, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media Jealous Woman / Ревнивая женщина 2012, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9159-7, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media The Root of His Evil (= Shameless) / Виновница его мучений 2012, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9163-4, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media Galatea / Галатея 2013, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9153-5, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media Mignon / Миньон 2012, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9161-0, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media The Magician's Wife / Жена фокусника 2012, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9160-3, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media Rainbow's End / Край радуги 2012, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9154-2, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media The Institute / Институт 2013, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9157-3, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media Cloud Nine 2012, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9155-9, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media The Enchanted Isle 2013, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9156-6, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media The Cocktail Waitress / Официантка с коктейлями 2012, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-78116-035-0, Titan Books

The Complete Crime Stories 2015, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-1-4532-9362-1, MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media

Double Indemnity / Двойная страховка 2011, epub (retail), ISBN: 978-0-307-77842-0, Vintage Crime/Black Lizard

CHAPTER 1

They threw me off the hay truck about noon. I had swung on the night before, down at the border, and as soon as I got up there under the canvas, I went to sleep. I needed plenty of that, after three weeks in Tia Juana, and I was still getting it when they pulled off to one side to let the engine cool. Then they saw a foot sticking out and threw me off. I tried some comical stuff, but all I got was a dead pan, so that gag was out. They gave me a cigarette, though, and I hiked down the road to find something to eat. That was when I hit this Twin Oaks Tavern. It was nothing but a roadside sandwich joint, like a million others in California. There was a lunchroom part, and over that a house part, where they lived, and off to one side a filling station, and out back a half dozen shacks that they called an auto court. I blew in there in a hurry and began looking down the road. When the Greek showed, I asked if a guy had been by in a Cadillac. He was to pick me up here, I said, and we were to have lunch. Not today, said the Greek. He layed a place at one of the tables and asked me what I was going to have. I said orange juice, corn flakes, fried eggs and bacon, enchilada, flapjacks, and coffee. Pretty soon he came out with the orange juice and the corn flakes. “Hold on, now. One thing I got to tell you. If this guy don’t show up, you’ll have to trust me for it. This was to be on him, and I’m kind of short, myself.” “Hokay, fill’m up.” . . .

CHAPTER 1

I drove out to Glendale to put three new truck drivers on a brewery company bond, and then I remembered this renewal over in Hollywoodland. I decided to run over there. That was how I came to this House of Death, that you’ve been reading about in the papers. It didn’t look like a House of Death when I saw it. It was just a Spanish house, like all the rest of them in California, with white walls, red tile roof, and a patio out to one side. It was built cock-eyed. The garage was under the house, the first floor was over that, and the rest of it was spilled up the hill any way they could get it in. You climbed some stone steps to the front door, so I parked the car and went up there. A servant poked her head out. “Is Mr. Nirdlinger in?” “I don’t know, sir. Who wants to see him?” “Mr. Huff.” “And what’s the business?” “Personal.” . . .