"Pronzini, Bill - Nameless Detective 007 - Hoodwink" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pronzini Bill)

When I looked up Dancer said, "Well?Ф

"That's my line," I said. "Are you Rose Tyler Crawford?Ф

He made a snorting sound. "Christ, no. I wish I had been, though. Whoever she is or was, she probably made a potful.Ф

"Then what's the point of trying to extort money from you?Ф

"You tell me. That's why I want you to snoop around.Ф

"Maybe it's not extortion," I said. "Maybe it's somebody's idea of a practical joke.Ф

"I doubt that; I don't know anybody clever enough or smartass enough. It might be a publicity stunt for the convention, too, but I talked to Lloyd Underwood and a couple of others this morning, and they say they don't know anything about it.

I don't see that they'd lie if they did know.Ф

"Why did you think it might be a publicity stunt? There'd be no guarantee you'd make it public. And besides, one incident like this wouldn't be enough to attract attention to a pulp convention.Ф

"How about five incidents like this?Ф

"What?Ф

"I talked to the rest of the Pulpeteers, too," Dancer said. "Seems I'm just one of a crowd. Each of them also got photocopies of '' and extortion letters identical to mine.Ф

We spent another fifteen minutes kicking it around. It was screwy, all right.

Why would anybody accuse six different writers of plagiarizing the same manuscript and then try to extort money from each one? And why wait thirty years after the alleged plagiarism took place to make the accusations and the demands?

It could be some sort of mass extortion ploy,, but the only way one of those can work is if each of the potential victims thinks, first, that the extortionist really does have something incriminating against him, and second, that he's the only one being victimized. All six of the Pulpeteers could hardly be plagiarists. And the extortionist had to know, at least he did if he was sane, that one of the six would be sure to mention it to another, and pretty soon everybody would know everybody else had been approached. Nobody was going to pay off under those circumstances.

So what was the point of it all?

According to Dancer, none of the others had any more of an idea than he did. All of the envelopes, as far as he'd been able to determine, had been mailed in San Francisco, which meant that any one of several million people, including the convention organizers and a few dozen friends, relatives, and casual acquaintances of the six writers, might be guilty. The "" novelette had been unfamiliar to everyone, although they all remembered Evil by Gaslight; the movie still ran pretty often on TV. The author's style had also been unfamiliar, probably that of a beginner, they all agreed, rather than an established professional.

Most of the Pulpeteers were inclined to shrug the whole thing off as the work of a crank, but at the same time they were curious and maybe just a little uneasy.

Unusual or abnormal behavior, particularly by a party or parties unknown, always tends to make people nervous. So when Dancer had mentioned my name to them, the consensus was that it might not be a bad idea to have somebody around who was both a detective by profession and a knowledgeable pulp collector by avocation.

"Whoever's behind this might not even be at the convention, you know," I said.

"Chances are it's all some sort of hoax and you'll never hear from '' again.Ф

Dancer said, "But suppose one of us does hear from him?Ф

"Well, that's a bridge to cross if we come to it.Ф

"Then you'll snoop for us?Ф

"Sure, I'll do what I can. You've got me curious too, now. Just don't expect too much of me wandering around the convention. If I can do anything at all, it'll probably be through channels.Ф