"killerinthehouse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Blackmon Robert C)

patrons wouldn't stay at the pavilion dance all night. I had to clean up those murders and
get things running smoothly before they got back--or else.

Pushing Hammond's door open all the way, I slipped into the room, trying to look in
every direction at the same time. I didn't see anything but David Hammond's body on the bed.
It hadn't been moved, as far as I could tell.

I switched on the bedside light and got away from it in a hurry. Nothing happened, and
I didn't see anything. I went over to the bathroom, pushed the door open and switched on the
light. Every muscle in me was jumping. The bathroom was empty. That left the clothes closet.

My fingers were slippery with sweat as I twisted the knob of the closet door and jerked
the door wide open. There was nothing in it but a couple of suits and three suitcases. One
of the suitcases had been opened, and I saw a paper-taped package of green bank notes. The
denomination of the top bill was $100. My eyes all but dropped out of my head.

Then I heard the rumble of the elevator machinery. Johnny was coming up. He had heard
the scream.

Scrambling out of the closet, I ran out into tho main hallway, snapping off Hammond's
lights on the run. I left the door opened about an inch, as I had found it.

The elevator door clanged open almost as I finished, and Johnny charged out into the
seventh-floor hallway, his eyes very bright. His mouth was open to yell; then he saw me. He
saw James Ollis' body at about the same instant, and his mouth snapped shut. He started
whimpering a little, and his eyes got bigger than I'd ever seen them. He turned toward the
elevator.

"Hold it, Johnny," I told him quickly. I got to him and caught his arm. "Keep a stiff
upper lip, partner."

I knew I couldn't let him go. He'd drop to the lobby and start yelling murder all over
the place. Then the Sea View would be emptied, and my job would be gone. And I wouldn't be
the only one to lose out. Myrtle, Johnny, the bellhops--all of them would go. The season
would be shot.

I pulled Johnny away from tho body and along the hallway. My mind was working harder and
faster than it ever had worked, I got Johnny down to 708.

Beyond the locked door, Alfred Marsh was snoring even louder than he had been a few
minutes ago. Apparently, the scream hadn't reached him. Holding Johnny with one hand, I used
the passkey with the other and opened Marsh's door. I stuck my head in and said, keeping my
voice low:

"He's passed out, drunk. It couldn't have been him."

Then I eased the door almost shut, leaving it gaping about an inch.

Johnny was jerking in every muscle and nerve as I all but dragged him on down the
hallway to 706, Neal Carter's room. Behind the panels, Carter was still snoring loud enough