"Bradley, Marion Zimmer - Claire Moffatt 01 - Dark Satanic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bradley Marion Zimmer)

"Very well. Call me if there is any change, Nurse." The doctor went away; the nurse stood for a moment writing on her chart, then took another chair near the door. There was no sound in the room but the soft hiss of the oxygen and the strangled sound of Jock's breathing. Jamie wished he could go out for a cigarette, but he didn't like to leave Jock alone in case the older man should call for him again or recover consciousness.
Minutes ticked by slowly. Then Jock stirred again. "Jamie! Jamie!" he muttered restlessly. "I can't see you. Come here."
Jamie glanced uneasily at the nurse. She said almost soundlessly, her lips just moving, "Go to him. Try to reassure him."
"I'm here, Jock. Bess will be here in a little while. Barbara's bringing her."
"The bookЕ you mustn'tЧЧЧ"
"Never mind that now, old fellow. Just rest."
"Damn it," Jock gasped, "Listen to me. I'm dying and I know it. They got meЕ they'll get you, too. I tried to fight something bigger than I was, something nobody can fight alone. Go after them, Jamie, but don't publish it until they're all gone."
"Jock, you mustn't talk," Jamie protested. "Just relax."
"Promise you'll get them! Damn it, don't treat me like a child. I may not be able to talk much more! I
wrote too muchЕ chapter fiveЕ Father Mansell... Houston Street. They may have killed Lucille, too." His eyes fluttered shut, twitched open again. "Promise! Promise me, Jamie. Don't let them kill anyone else."
Helplessly, with a sick feeling of humoring a madman, Jamie said, "Of course I promise. You'll be better when Bess comes."
The nurse said softly from the door, "Mrs. Cannon is here, Mr. Melford."
Behind him the soft, gentle voice of Bess Cannon said, "Should I disturb him now, Nurse?"
The nurse looked straight at her. She said, "I don't think it makes any difference now, Mrs. Cannon. You'd better go to him."
Jamie turned. "Bess." He held out Ms hand and led her to the bed.
"Jock, dear," she said, very softly.
His eyes rested briefly on her. He smiled and lay still, and Jamie, thankfully, withdrew toward the door.
He had seen Bess Cannon less than half a dozen times and had spoken to her less than a hundred words. She was a short, soft, sandy-haired little woman, rounded, round-cheeked, verging on middle age, and somehow gently blurred in appearance, peaceful and plain. Now she looked tired and as if she had been crying, but she was composed, and Jamie was grateful: he had been almost prepared for hysterics.
She turned her head and said in a gentle undertone, "Don't think you have to go, Jamie. But perhaps you'd better bring the priestЕ I spoke to the doctor."
But Jock isn't a Catholic, Jamie thought. Then he remembered that Jock in his delirium had mentioned a
Father Mansell. People in serious illness were likely to revert to former patterns. He said, "Of course, Bess," and went quietly out down the hall to the nursing station. He said, "Mr. Cannon wants to see Father Mansell."
The nurse blinked slightly. "Father Mansell? He wants his own priest? We'll be glad to call him, if you'll give us the number, but perhaps, if he's very ill, I should call our own chaplain? Father Masters would be glad to come, I'm sure, and he could be here in six or seven minutes. The rectory is right down the block at Our Lady of Perfect Peace."
"Yes, yes, of course."
"And then Mrs. Cannon can call her own parish priest later, if she wishes. I'll call the Father right away," the nurse said, picking up a telephone, and Jamie started back toward Jock's room. Barbara stepped out of the waiting room and beckoned to him. "How is he, Jamie?"
"Not very good, Barbara, I'm afraid. They've sent for the priest. He was delirious; they had to put him in restraints," Jamie said, forcing his mind away from Jock's words. Madness, yes, but frighteningly coherent.
Damn it, could a bunch of crackpots kill a man, in this day and age, with their witch-doctor lunaciesЕ even if he subconsciously feared them and half believed in their power?
No. Vicious suggestion was possible, yes: anyone who would try to do that to a manЧhanging was too good for them. But that would be coincidence, perhaps aggravating the strain in Jock Cannon's heart, but not causing it. No.
If I believed that, life would be insane, chaotic. Impossible.
"Tired, Barbara? You can take a cab home if you want to. I'll stay with Bess in case ..'." His voice trailed off. Not till now had he found himself realizing that Jock was going to die,
"You'd better go back and see if she needs anything."
A sudden cry split the hospital corridors, a ghastly, throat-searing scream. Jamie gasped, "Bess!" and hurried toward the door, but as he entered the hospital room he saw that Bess stood quietly, holding the hand of Jock, who had struggled upright.
Jock screamed again, a cry of agony, terror, and fear. "Devils! No, no, not my soul. The knifeЕ the knifeЕ they've killed me! They're going to kill me! I see themЕ the knifeЕ ah!"
He fell back limp on the pillow. The doctor hurried forward and bent over the bed, rudely thrusting Bess away. Then he straightened up, no longer in a hurry.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cannon," he said, softly, "but you must have been expecting this. His heartЧhad he been ill very long?"
Bess stared at Mm, her face slowly melting and coagulating in a different shape. She said, swallowing, "Doctor, are you crazy? He was never sick a day in his life. He had a complete physical checkup two weeks agoЧfor some insurance, he said. The doctor told MmЧI was there, I heard himЧthat he had the heart of a man thirty years younger. IЧI simply can't believe it"
Neither could Jamie, Ms head spinning. No wonder
Jock hardly listened when I suggested he have a physical checkup, he thought numbly. But if two weeks ago his heart was perfectly soundЕ
Bess said, "He was afraid. Doctor, is there any way anyone could have done this?"
"No. No!, it was Ms heart, Mrs. Cannon," the doctor said soothingly.
"But it couldn'tЧthey've killed him," Bess said wildly. "He was afraid. He kept saying they'd get him sooner or laterЕ"
A soft, masculine voice asked from the door, "Can I help?" and Bess turned to see an oldish man in a Roman collar, carrying a small briefcase. He set it down and shook Ms head. Bess said numbly, "He's dead, Father. He diedЧjust a minute ago."
The priest moved to the bedside, made the sign of the cross. He murmured softly in Latin, closed the dead man's eyes, and signed Ms brow with the cross. Then he turned' back to them. He said, "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Cannon. I came as soon as they called me."
"He wasn't a Catholic," Bess said numbly. "I always hopedЕ Father, Father, they killed himЧwith Black MagicЧthey killed Jock! They killed him." Her voice began to rise, high and shrill, and the priest stepped forward quickly and took her arm.
"Come, come, you must not say such blasphemous things in the presence of the dead," he said sternly, and Bess subsided, breathing hard. She went to Jock's side. He lay peaceful, Ms face empty, and she crossed herself, her face quiet, and turned away. Her mouth worked, but she said nothing, letting the priest lead her out of the room.
It was after two when Jamie and Barbara unlocked the door of their Village apartment. They had delayed to talk to the doctor, to stand by while Bess signed the necessary papers, to take Bess home in a taxi, and to telephone Jock's surviving sister in Connecticut.
Barbara had offered to stay with her, but Bess, quite composed by now, had refused. Sho said that Jock's sister, Margaret, would be there on the earliest train, and she would be quite all right. So at last they had left her and found a cruising cab to drop them at their door.
Barbara, hanging up her coat in the tiny foyer, thought that the whole evening seemed nightmarish, not quite real. One moment Jamie was talking about Cannon's delusions of persecution, the next, with the speed of the incredible, the summons and his death had come. Not that she believed hi witchcraft, but it gave her a creepy feeling. Jamie looked gray and exhausted, and she took his coat gently and hung it up. "Do you want a drink before you go to bed, darling? Hot milk . Д . anything?"
"I'll sleep without it." Jamie took her arm and walked into the tiny living roomЧand stopped, blinking. Barbara, too, stopped in momentary confusion, then irritation. The double bed had been opened out from the sofa, and on it, covered with a light afghan, lay a woman, sleeping, only a mass of fair hair and the neck of a blue flannel nightgown. Then Dana Becker sat up, blinking, fair hair faintly luminescent in the light from the streetlight outside the window.
"OhЕ Barbara. I'm sorry, I was asleep." She shook her head faintly. Barbara, pressing back a frown by brute force (This was absolutely all I needed!) said, with what she hoped was adequate cordiality, "Hello, Dana. I hadn't expected to find you here or we'd have been quieter coming in."
She smiled her pretty and deprecating smile. "Oh, for goodness' sake don't think about that, Barbara! You had no way of knowing! I told Mom Melford I'd only be in the way, but she really wanted me to stay. You know how she hates being alone."