"Carey, M.V. - The Three Investigators 31 - The Mystery of the Scar-Faced Beggar" - читать интересную книгу автора (Carey M.V)

She fumbled in her purse as the blind man came closer. Bob saw that he was quite thin, and he stooped as he walked. His collar was pulled up around his ears and a cloth cap was pulled down over his brow. Dark glasses covered his eyes, and a neatly lettered sign was pinned to the front of his windbreaker. It was covered with plastic and it read, "God bless you. I am blind."

"Nasty night," said the woman. She stood up and dropped a coin into his cup.

"Argh!" said the blind man. His white stick rapped against the kerb, then banged on the bench. He tapped back and forth along the edge of the bench, then sat down.

Bob and the woman watched the blind man for a moment, then turned away and stared at the lighted windows of the bank across the street.

The cleaning people in the bank had just finished their chores. The counter-tops gleamed and chairs were placed in precise order. There were two cleaners--a man in bib overalls who wore his grey hair long and shaggy, and a short, stout woman. They waited at the door that led from the bank out to the lobby of the office building in which the bank was located.

A uniformed security man with a bunch of keys hurried forward from the back of the bank. He exchanged a word or two with the cleaning people, then unlocked the bank door and let them out.

As the cleaning people crossed the lobby and disappeared into an elevator, Bob glanced down at the blind man again. He could see grey hair at the edges of the man's cloth cap, and a Stubble of neglected beard on the man's cheeks. A broad, ugly scar ran from the man's jaw to his cheekbone. The accident that caused the scar must have been a terrible one, thought Bob. He wondered whether that accident was what had cost the man his sight.

The beggar leaned forward, as if to get up from the bench. His foot somehow caught on his cane and he lurched sideways, half-sitting and half-standing.

"Oh!" cried the woman. She seized the beggar's arm to steady him.

The metal cup fell to the ground and bounced away. Coins scattered in all directions.

"My money!" cried the beggar.

"We'll get it!" said the woman. "Don't you move."

She crouched to pick coins off the wet pavement and Bob began to fish in the gutter for the money. The woman retrieved the metal cup, which had rolled against the trash basket, and dropped the coins into it.

"Have you got it all?" said the blind man. "It took me all day to get that much."

Bob dropped a wet quarter and two dimes into the cup. "I don't think we missed any," he said.

The woman handed the cup to the blind man, who dumped the coins out into his palm and fingered them over. He made a wordless, guttural sound, then said, "Yes. It's all right."

"Are you waiting for the bus?" said the woman. "I think I see it coming now."

"No," said the man. "Thank you, lady. I live near here."

Bob glanced across the street. The cleaning man had appeared again in the lobby. He stood rattling the bank door. The security man was coming from the back of the bank with his keys out. He opened the door and there was a brief exchange between himself and the cleaning man. Then the cleaner went into the bank.

The blind man got up and started away, tapping at the pavement with his stick.

"Poor soul," said the woman. "I hope he doesn't have far to go."

Bob watched the blind man's slow progress down Wilshire.

"Oh, he's dropped something," said the woman.

"Hey, mister!" called Bob. "Wait a second!"

The beggar didn't hear him. He tapped on down the street.