PAUL CAIN
Parlor Trick

WHO WAS THE hardest of the hard-boiled writers for Black Mask? Who wrote the sparest, starkest, toughest prose of them all?
The answer, without any doubt, is Paul Cain.
Cain's style, as pulp authority Ron Goulart wrote, at times "becomes as sparse and clipped as that of a McGuffey's Reader." In an afterword to a recent reprint edition of Cain's only novel, Fast One (1933), critic Irvin Faust says that Cain "hasn't the time or patience for excess baggage. He picks up his literary scalpel and scrapes away conjunctions as if they were bad merchandise . . . He digs into the page with a hard sentence: simple, declarative, exact."
"Parlor Trick" (July 1932), one of the few short-shorts to appear in Black Mask during Cap Shaw's editorship, was Cain's third published story. And, arguably, his best. In these few thousand words, there is more tension, menace, and raw realism than in most hard-boiled novels. It is a perfect portrait in microcosm of the way gangsters lived and loved and died in the last days of Prohibition. Given the same theme and plot elements, Hemingway could not have written it any better.
Not much in the way of specific information is known about the man who signed his fiction Paul Cain. His real name was Peter Ruric; he was a successful Hollywood screenwriter (The Night of January 16, Grand Central Murders, Mademoiselle Fifi); and he also wrote, of all things for the hardest of the hard-boiled writers, verbose and rather amusing articles on gourmet cooking. ("No one but a Spaniard can make a fried egg look so terrible and taste so good."—"Viva las Castanetas," Gourmet Magazine, June 1951.) He published seventeen stones in Black Mask in the early thirties, five of which were later bridged together to form Fast One, and one each in Star Detective and Detective Fiction Weekly. His only other book, a collection of seven Black Mask stories called Seven Slayers, was published in digest paperback farm in 1946 and later reprinted by Avon Books in 1950. A blurb on the back cover of the original edition describes Cain/Ruric as "slender, blond, bearded, 30-odd years old," and goes on to say, "He spent the bulk of these years in South and North America, Africa, the Near East, Europe. He was, intermittently, a bosun's-mate, a Dada painter, a gambler and a 'no' man in Hollywood. He writes as he has lived—at high speed, and with violence." Yes, indeed.

 I KNOCKED ON the door at the end of the hall. It was cold in the hall, almost dark. I knocked again, and Bella's voice said: "Come in," faintly; then she said: "Oh—it's locked." The key scratched in the lock and the door opened and I went into the room.
It was very hot in there. It was dark, with only a little light from a gas heater. There was a little more light that came through a short corridor from the kitchen, but it was pretty dark.
Bella closed the door and went over to the davenport and sat down. She was near the heater, and the yellow light flickered over the lower part of her face.
I took off my coat and put it on a chair. Bella kept scraping her teeth lightly over her lower lip. Her teeth were like a little animal's and she ran them over her soft lower lip rapidly, like an animal. The light from the heater was bright on the lower part of her face.
I went through the short corridor to the kitchen. The bathroom door was open; I glanced in as I passed and Gus Schaeffer turned his head and looked over his shoulder at me. He was standing at the basin with his back to the door and when he turned his head to look at me his face was awful. His skin was damp and gray and his eyes had something leaden and dying in them.
I said: "Hi, Gus," and went in to the kitchen.
There was a man sitting on one of the benches at one side of the narrow breakfast table. The table was set lengthwise into a niche, with a bench at each side, and the man on one of the benches was sitting with his back in the corner of the niche, his knees drawn up, his feet on the outside end of the bench. His head was back against the wall and his eyes and mouth were open. There was a thin knife-handle sticking out of one side of his throat.
Gus came out of the bathroom and stood behind me in the doorway.
There were several nearly empty glasses on the table. One had fallen to the floor, broken in to many glittering pieces.
I looked at the glass and I looked up at the man again. I think I said: " -----	" very softly.
"I did it. I did it and I didn't know it. I was blind ..." Gus was clawing at my arm.
Bella came through the corridor and stood behind him. She looked very scared, very beautiful.
She said huskily: "Gus was terribly drunk. Frank said something out of turn and Gus picked up the knife and stuck it in to his neck. He choked—I guess—"
She looked at the dead man, and then her eyes turned up white in their sockets and she fainted.
Gus turned around and almost fell down trying to catch her. He said: "Oh, baby—baby!" He took her up in his arms and carried her back into the living room.
I followed him in and switched on the lights. He put Bella on the davenport. I watched him bend over her and flick ice water across her face with his fingers, from a pitcher; he rubbed her hands and wrists, and tried to force a little whiskey between her clenched pale lips. He kept saying: "Oh baby—baby," over and over. I sat down.
He sat on the edge of the davenport and looked at me while he rubbed and patted Bella's hands.
"You better telephone," he said. Then he looked at Bella a long time. "I did it—see—I did it; only I didn't know about it. I was cockeyed—"
I nodded. I said: "Sure, Gus," and I leaned forward and picked up the telephone.
Gus was looking at Bella's white beautiful face. He bobbed his head up and down mechanically.
I said: "What's the best play—self-defense?"
He turned suddenly. "I don't care—no play at all." He dropped her hand and stood up. "Only I did it myself. She didn't have anything to do with it. She was in here. ..." He came towards me, shaking his finger at me, speaking very earnestly.
I said: "Maybe I can get Neilan. The longer we let it go, the worse it'll be."
I dialed a number.
Neilan was a short chubby man with a strangely long face, a high bony forehead. He and Frank had been partners in a string of distilleries for almost five years. He said: "When did you get here, Red?"
"Bella called me up and told me something had happened—I live around the corner."
I was sitting near the door that led in to the kitchen. Bella was sitting in the middle of the davenport, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, staring vacantly into the brightness of the heater. Gus was sitting in a straight-backed chair in the middle of the room.
Neilan had been walking around looking at the pictures on the walls. He sat down straddling an arm of the davenport.
"So you were so drunk you don't remember?" Neilan was looking at Gus.
Gus nodded. Bella looked up at him for a moment and nodded a little and then looked back into the fire.
There was a light tap at the door and it opened and a big man came in quietly and closed the door behind him. He wore glasses and his soft black hat was tilted over the back of his head, I think his name was McNulty, or McNutt—something like that. He said: "Ed's downstairs with a couple of the boys."
"They can wait downstairs." Neilan turned his head a little and looked at Bella out of the corners of his eyes. "So Gus was so drunk he don't remember?"
Gus stood up. He said: "	damn it! Pat—I was so drunk I didn't know any better, but I wasn't so drunk I don't know it was me. Lay off Bella—she was in here. ..."
"She didn't say so."
Bella said: "I was nearly asleep and I could hear Gus and Frank talking in the kitchen and then they didn't talk any more. After a while I got up and went out in the kitchen—Frank was like he is now, and Gus was out—with his head on the table."
Her chin was in her hands, and her head bobbed up and down when she talked. Gus was sitting down again, on the edge of the chair.
Neilan grinned at McNulty. He said: "What do you think, Mac?"
McNulty went over to Bella and reached down and put one big finger under her chin and jerked her head back.
"I think she's a liar," he said.
Gus stood up.
McNulty turned as if that had been what he wanted. He hit Gus very hard in the face, twice. Gus fell down and rolled over on his side. He pulled his knees up and moaned a little.
McNulty took off his coat and folded it carefully and put it on a chair. He went to Gus and kicked him hard in the chest and then kicked his head several times. Gus tried to protect himself with his arms. He didn't make any more noise but put his arms up and tried to protect himself. He tried to get up once and McNulty kicked him in the stomach and he fell down and lay quietly. In a little while, McNulty stopped kicking him and sat down. He was panting. He took off his hat and took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face.
I looked at Neilan. "I called you," I said, "because I thought you'd give Gus a break. ..."
He said: "You ought to of called the police. They'd be after giving Gus a break, and your lady friend here"—he jerked his head at Bella—"with a length of hose."
Bella was leaning back on the davenport with her hands up to her face. She stared at Gus and tried to look at McNulty.
McNulty smiled, said: "Sure—why don't you call a cop? Frankie had everybody from the Chief down on his payroll—they'll have to go back to working for the city." He was out of breath, spoke unevenly.
Bella stood up and started to go towards the door, and Neilan stood up too, and put one hand over her mouth and one on her back. He held her like that for a minute and then he pushed her back down on the davenport.
McNulty got up then and stooped over and took hold of the back of Gus' shirt collar and pulled him up a little way.
McNulty said: "Come on, boy—we'll get some air."
Gus' shirt collar started to tear and McNulty cupped his other hand around the back of Gus' neck and jerked him up on his feet. Gus couldn't stand by himself; McNulty stood there holding him with his arm around his shoulders. Gus' face was in pretty bad shape.
McNulty said: "Come on, boy," again and started guiding Gus towards the door.
Neilan said: "Wait a minute, Mac."
McNulty turned and stared vacantly at Neilan for a minute and then pushed Gus down in a big chair. He sat down on the arm of the chair and took out his handkerchief and wiped Gus' face.
Neilan went out into the kitchen. He was out there two or three minutes without making any noise, then he snapped off the light and came back. He turned off the lights in the living room too, and it was dark except for the faint yellow light from the heater.
Neilan went back and sat down at the end of the davenport, out of the light. The light rippled over Bella's face, and after a while, when my eyes were used to the darkness, I could make out dark shapes where McNulty and Gus sat—and Neilan.
It was so dark and quiet except for the sharp sound of Gus' breathing. There wasn't anything to look at except Bella and she was leaning back with her eyes closed and her face very still.
It got on my nerves after several minutes and I said: "What's it all about, Pat?"
Neilan didn't answer, so I leaned forward in my chair, but I didn't get up. I sat there with all my muscles tight.
Then I heard something moving out in the kitchen. I don't know whether anybody else heard it, but I know there was sound out there like something moving across the floor.
I stood up and I couldn't speak. I didn't hear the sound again but I stood there without moving, and then Bella started talking. She talked in a conversational tone, with her head back, her eyes closed:
"Frank came here to see me. He's been coming to see me every night for four nights. He brought along a lot of lousy whiskey and got Gus drunk, and he got drunk too. He wouldn't give up."
She stopped talking a moment and the light beat up and down on her face. She was very beautiful then.
"He made a crack tonight while Gus was in the bathroom about telling Gus about Red and me. ..."
She opened her eyes and looked towards me in the darkness a minute, and then closed her eyes and went on:
"I was scared. I called Red while they were raising hell in the kitchen and he came over and I let him in. We listened to them for a few minutes from in here in the dark, and then when Frank got to talking about what a great guy Red was, and started getting dirty about it, Red went in there very quickly and killed him. I guess Gus was too far gone to see it or know anything about it."
She stopped talking again and it was quiet.
"Then Red beat it and I stayed in here a while and then I went out like I told you and woke up Gus. He thought I did it, I guess. I called Red again. ..."
Neilan got up and went over and switched on the lights.
McNulty got up too and stood there blinking, staring stupidly at Bella.
I went over and got my hat and coat and put them on. I stood looking at Bella for a while after I had put on my coat. She was still leaning back with her eyes closed. She was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.
Neilan opened the door and McNulty and I went out into the hall. It was very cold there after the intense heat of the room. Then Neilan closed the door and the three of us went downstairs.
There was a small touring car at the curb, with the side-curtains on. There were two men whom I had never seen before in the front seat, and another man on the sidewalk. The engine was running.
McNulty opened the door and got in the back seat, and then I got in, and then Neilan. There wasn't anything else to do. I sat between them, and Neilan said: "Let's go."
We went down the street slowly. The man who had been standing on the sidewalk didn't get into the car; he stood there looking after us. I turned around a little and looked at him through the rear window; as we turned the corner, he went on back up the street, the other way.
When we got out of town a ways we went faster. It was very cold.
I said: "Hurry up."
Neilan turned and grinned at me. I could see his face a little as we passed a street light. He said: "Hurry up—what?"
"Hurry up." The cold was beginning to get in to the pit of my stomach, and my legs. I wanted to be able to stand up. I wanted it standing up, if I could.
Neilan glanced out the rear window. He said: "I think our tail light's out."
The car slowed, stopped. We were pretty well out in the country by that time and the road was dark.
Neilan said: "See if we've got a tail light, Mac."
McNulty grunted and reached up and opened the door and heaved himself up into the door. He stooped and put one foot out on the runningboard, and then Neilan reached in front of me very quickly. There was a gun in his hand and he put it close to McNulty's back and shot him three times. The explosions were very close together. McNulty's knees crumpled up and he fell out of the car-on his face.
The car started again and the man who sat next to the driver reached back and slammed the door shut hard.
Neilan cleared his throat. He said: "Frank's number has been up a long time. He's been tipping our big deliveries, South; we haven't got a truck through for two months."
I could feel the blood getting back into my arms and legs. I wasn't so cold and I could breathe without pain.
"McNulty was in it with him. McNulty was in the outfit down-state. We found out about that last night."
We rode on for a little while and nobody said anything.
"If the dame sticks to her beef," Neilan went on, "the scarcer you are, the better. If she doesn't, Gus'll stand it. You can't do yourself any good around here any more anyway."
Pretty soon we stopped at a little interurban station where I could get a car in to the city.
I had to wait a while. I sat in the station where it was warm, and thought about Bella. After a while the car came.