"Charlie Chan - 7405 - The Temple Of The Golden Horde" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chan Charlie)

THE GIRL stood just inside the entry portal, her burning eyes searching wildly from side to side, her cries now low moans of fear. A tall, thin girl in her early twenties, pretty, with long blonde hair, a sensual mouth, and wide brown eyes. Manic eyes, hysterical, half-insane. She wore a long, flowing white Oriental robe, but she wasn't Oriental. A Caucasian girl, and the white robe was stained with dirt and grass.
Chan stepped forward, "Don't be afraid, Miss -"
"Ahhhh -!"
The girl shrank back against a wall, her whole thin body trembling violently, her eyes staring crazily.
"Please, I will not harm -"
Chan saw the knife then. A long, thin Oriental dagger with a red-jeweled handle and a needle-sharp ten-inch blade. The girl held it out in front of her.
With a cry, she leaped toward the detective, the knife held high and aimed at his heart.
Startled, Chan stepped backward. His rear foot slipped on the bare wood floor, and he fell. The girl was on him, the dagger gleaming in the dark straight down at his chest!
The dagger plunged down.
Chan, all his muscles trained by years of T'ai-Chi-Chuan, caught her wrist and rolled aside in one fluid movement. The Chinese system of physical fitness and self-defense had kept him powerful and supple beyond his years, and the violent girl was helpless in his grip. The dagger fell to the floor, and Chan rose swiftly to his feet still grasping the girl's wrist.
"Stand still," he said sharply. The tall girl glared at him, breathing hard from the fight. Her face was as pale as her white robe, and her dilated eyes rolled in her head like dark marbles floating in liquid. Chan studied her. There was hysteria in her eyes, and terror. The detective made his voice gentle to soothe and calm her:
"Of what are you so frightened, my child?"
The girl shrank back in the shadows of the eerie temple. She whimpered, and her lips parted to speak - but the voice that spoke wasn't her voice!
A deep, masculine voice from the entry portal to the dark temple, said, "She is a sick girl, afraid of herself."
He was a tall, elegant man in a gray tweed business suit, and he came into the temple carrying a flashlight and talking to the girl, "The shadows won't hurt you, Angela. Nothing is going to hurt you. I've come to help you."
His handsome face was tanned, his dark hair flecked with gray, and his suit custom made. He had an aura of authority, and his sharp brown eyes were angry under their calm surface. He, too, was breathing hard as if he'd been running. Chan watched him as he went on calming the girl, speaking to her in a soft, hypnotic voice.
"The fear of shadows," Chan said, "can be lethal when accompanied by a dagger in the hand."
He held up the knife he had taken from the girl. The tall man glared at the detective.
"Why do you think I've been looking for her before she hurt herself? But her fears are our concern," the tall man said. "What the devil are you doing here, and who are you?"
"I'm here to speak with the Khan of Temple on the matter of an accident to Benny Chan," Chan said quietly. "My name is also Chan, Inspector of the Honolulu Police Department."
The tall man seemed to hesitate. "Chan? You're a relative of poor Benny's?"
"Perhaps distant, all Chan's are of one ancient family, but I did not know the drowned man. I'm here as a policeman and not as a relation."
A sudden wariness came over the tall man. He tried to hide it, but it was there. He glanced at the girl. Chan saw that the girl was now staring at him, an odd light in her manic eyes. A hint of purpose under the hysteria that shook her. The tall man spoke quietly, his voice controlled:
"A Honolulu policeman? Why would the Honolulu police be concerned with an accident here?"
"Benny Chan's sister asked that I give some small assistance to the local police."
"But Benny's death was a simple accident, the police here have confirmed that."
"Undoubtedly true, then," Chan said with a faint smile, "all that remains is to remove sisterly doubts. I'm certain the Khan of this Temple can do that, and perhaps yourself, Mr. -?"
"Well -" the tall man began, and frowned. "Of course, Inspector, we'll help all we can. I'm Carleton Sedgwick, lawyer for the Temple. I conduct all outside business, but I really don't see what more I can do for the police that I haven't already done. Poor Benny was simply returning from an errand and must have lost his way in the fog and fallen into the ocean. He wasn't very bright, you know."
"The retarded have some difficulty with the large world," Chan observed, "but usually they become most familiar with the small world where they live. Like blind men, retarded people are more careful than normal people, stay with what they know. It's odd that he lost his way on the grounds he called home."
Carleton Sedgwick nodded. "True, Inspector, but Benny was easily panicked like most retarded people. He was late in coming home that night, it was dark and foggy, and perhaps some innocent occurrence frightened him and he simply lost his head."
"Sounds very logical," Chan agreed. "Perhaps you are aware of some such occurrence that night? Saw or heard something?"
"I'm afraid not. I wasn't here, and the Khan and Princess were in their residence. None of us knew Benny had returned. In fact, we became worried by morning and called the police. Benny was carrying a priceless ancient scroll, and we found his pickup truck outside the gate."
"And Benny Chan was found at last in the ocean," Chan said.
"Tragic," Sedgwick said.
Chan nodded thoughtfully. "You have been a lawyer for the Temple long, Mr. Sedgwick? Do they have much need for a lawyer?"
"I've been their lawyer for six years, and I'm afraid they do need a lawyer often. People do not always like alien rites, Inspector. They become angry or scared by what they don't understand, try to shut us down or worse. Then I go to work."
Chan nodded, and looked at the now silent girl. "This young woman is a member of the Temple?"
"In a way, Inspector. A candidate for inclusion," Sedgwick said. "We have what other religions would call a 'Retreat House.' A place of therapy for those disturbed by the chaos of the outside world. A sanctuary for contemplation and solace, peace and understanding, for exorcism of the hidden evils inside."
"You are, then, psychiatrists?"
"No, certainly not!" Sedgwick snapped. "That would be illegal, and you know it. The Khan only instructs in ancient methods of self-control, of contemplation, of the peace that comes with oneness with the universe. He initiates the sufferers in the Rites of The Golden Horde to exorcise their private demons."
"You, yourself, are a believer, Mr. Sedgwick?"
"I'm afraid it isn't my calling," the lawyer said stiffly. "But I have seen the Khan do fine work with those who need aid."
"The process is not yet effective with Miss Smith," Chan said dryly. "Or perhaps some event has caused a sudden relapse?"
"Nothing has -" Sedgwick began.
The scream that echoed through the temple was half moan, half cry of terror; half fear and half anguish. Angela Smith's scream-moan. She had never taken her eyes from Chan all the time he had been talking to Carleton Sedgwick, and now her scream flowed through the dark temple like something alive, detached.
Her eyes never moved, staring at Chan and at the same time staring at something unseen beyond him, and her mouth open and screaming by itself unconnected to her eyes.
"The scroll!" the girl cried, moaning in horror, shrinking back, her arm up as if to protect herself. "It's sacred! The scroll, violated! Unclean! I saw him! He violated the sacred scroll! Pursued! They have come for him! The demons!"
Her scream rose again, shattering the night, "The demons! I see them! Oh... Oh... Don't touch me... don't..."
Chan's dark eyes narrowed. "Who do the demons pursue?"