Raymond Chandler Fullscreen Deep sleep (1939)

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"Brandy, Norris.

How do you like your brandy, sir?"

"Any way at all," I said.

The butler went away among the abominable plants.

The General spoke again, slowly, using his strength as carefully as an out-of-work show-girl uses her last good pair of stockings.

"I used to like mine with champagne.

The champagne as cold as Valley Forge and about a third of a glass of brandy beneath it.

You may take your coat off, sir.

It's too hot in here for a man with blood in his veins."

I stood up and peeled off my coat and got a handkerchief out and mopped my face and neck and the backs of my wrists. St. Louis in August had nothing on that place.

I sat down again and I felt automatically for a cigarette and then stopped.

The old man caught the gesture and smiled faintly.

"You may smoke, sir.

I like the smell of tobacco."

I lit the cigarette and blew a lungful at him and he sniffed at it like a terrier at a rathole. The faint smile pulled at the shadowed corners of his mouth.

"A nice state of affairs when a man has to indulge his vices by proxy," he said dryly. "You are looking at a very dull survival of a rather gaudy life, a cripple paralyzed in both legs and with only half of his lower belly.

There's very little that I can eat and my sleep is so close to waking that it is hardly worth the name.

I seem to exist largely on heat, like a newborn spider, and the orchids are an excuse for the heat.

Do you like orchids?"

"Not particularly," I said.

The General half-closed his eyes. "They are nasty things.

Their flesh is too much like the flesh of men. And their perfume has the rotten sweetness of a prostitute."

I stared at him with my mouth open.

The soft wet heat was like a pall around us.

The old man nodded, as if his neck was afraid of the weight of his head.

Then the butler came pushing back through the jungle with a teawagon, mixed me a brandy and soda, swathed the copper ice bucket with a damp napkin, and went away softly among the orchids.

A door opened and shut behind the jungle.

I sipped the drink.

The old man licked his lips watching me, over and over again, drawing one lip slowly across the other with a funereal absorption, like an undertaker dry-washing his hands.

"Tell me about yourself, Mr. Marlowe.

I suppose I have a right to ask?"

"Sure, but there's very little to tell.

I'm thirty-three years old, went to college once and can still speak English if there's any demand for it.

There isn't much in my trade.

I worked for Mr. Wilde, the District Attorney, as an investigator once.

His chief investigator, a man named Bernie Ohls, called me and told me you wanted to see me.

I'm unmarried because I don't like policemen's wives." "And a little bit of a cynic," the old man smiled. "You didn't like working for Wilde?"

"I was fired.

For insubordination.

I test very high on insubordination, General."

"I always did myself, sir.

I'm glad to hear it.

What do you know about my family?"

"I'm told you are a widower and have two young daughters, both pretty and both wild.

One of them has been married three times, the last time to an ex-bootlogger who went in the trade by the name of Rusty Regan.

That's all I heard, General."

"Did any of it strike you as peculiar?"

"The Rusty Regan part, maybe.

But I always got along with bootleggers myself."

He smiled his faint economical smile.