"Shadow - 351015 - Back Pages - Grace Culver - Bombproof Baby" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Roswell)

hinges.
The girl from Noonan's looked into the red-rimmed eyes of the sloppy
female who peered out at her. Frowzy hair and rolls of fat vanishing into the
ample filth of an unwashed Mother Hubbard, was her chief impression.
"Mrs. Mapes?"
The woman's voice, answering, was an ill-tempered rasp. But Grace kept on
smiling.
"Naw. Miz Mapes lives upstairs. I'm Miz Clancey. What you want?
You another of them charity bureau people?"
"No. I'm a staff aide. From the hospital. It's about Mr. Mapes. Is
his wifeЧ"
"She's still up to the hospital, lookin' after Wally." Grudgingly, the door
opened wider, "You can set on the stairs and wait if you're a mind to, I
guess."

Grace sat on the stairs and waited. "Miz" Clancey lumbered off into the
shadows at the rear of the reeking hallway, leaving her to her own devices.
Her own devices consisted largely of trying not to breathe any oftener than
she had to and of piecing and re-piecing what few tidbits on Mapes and Horner
affairs had come her way during the early afternoon.
That "Combine" of the mysterious Mr. Almond. Childish, or no, there
was a big-shot gun who had a pretty sizable industry by its coat-tails. His
little daubs of sealing wax meant something in the laundry world. Something
noticeably grim.
Did Mapes know who "Mr. Almond" was?
Grace doubted it. But he knew something. That curious glint in his eyes
had been more than the bad nerves that might very easily follow such an experience
as he had just been through.
Ten to one, the redhead figured, Wally at least knew who had tossed
that pineapple at him. And if he wouldn't tell, there must be some darn
good reason. Yet he couldn't have identified his attacker in that curtained
sedan. Couple that with the secret delivery hour, and you gotЧ
Heels beat a swift tattoo on the flimsy steps outside, and the door at the
front of the hall was flung open suddenly. Before Grace could scramble to her
feet, it had shut again.
The little woman who began to climb the stairs was wiry and bright-eyed.
Wisps of fading hair escaped from beneath her outmoded hat. Her face was
colorless, set in lines of strain, its lips grim, its cheeks hollow.
"Mrs. Mapes?"
The woman gasped.
"My lands! I didn't seeЧ"
"Sorry if I startled you. I'm from the hospital, Miss Redmond."
Mrs. Mapes kept on climbing. "Hospital? ButЧI've just been there,
and Wally was doing pretty good. ItЧhe isn'tЧ"
"No." Grace swung into step beside her, going up. "No bad news at
all. Only some questions. Routine stuff. If you'll just give me five minutes or so.
Mrs. Mapes was fumbling with her latchkey.
"Sure. That's all right, Miss Redmond. Come in, if you like."

The Mapes flat was just what might have been expected from a look at the