"Ty Drago - Bitter Reflections" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drago Ty)

Bitter Reflections
by Ty Drago


Trophies of wealth, thought Loretta Capinelli.

The butler, a thin, elderly man who looked snobbish even in gray pajamas, led her along the
wide, elaborately furnished corridor. Despite the hour, the weather, and the consuming
curiosity that had drawn her here, she found herself fascinated by the flagrant display of
wealth evident in even this remote hallway inside this massive mansion. An oriental rug
cushioned her feet. Small, decorative tables of cherrywood and mahogany accompanied
oils and etchings boasting the hands of masters. The vases atop the table were each works
of art, far too precious to soil with flowers. All of the doors she passed vaunted brass knobs
and hinges polished to a mirror's shine."
As I said," the butler continued. "I am quite relieved to see you, Doctor. Master Lawrence's
condition has become increasingly worrisome over these past few days."

"How long have you been in Mr. Benedict's employ?" Loretta asked.
"Twenty-two years," the servant replied. "Ever since the death of his parents."

She nodded. "Yes. I understand he was quite young when they died."

"Nineteen."
"A tragedy," Loretta offered.

The butler nodded. "He took control of the family business the next day, using his authority
as the only child and heir of Mr. Samuel Benedict. I hired on some weeks later, after several
interviews."
Loretta listened, intrigued. "It sounds as if the young Mr. Benedict was a capable man."

The butler smiled. "Oh yes. He was always very capable, very much in control. I suppose
that's why I find his recent... illness... so unnerving. It's so unlike him."
The corridor ended at a set of double doors. They were made of the same heavy wood used
for the other doors all along the corridor. Unlike the rest, however, these sported dull, black
metalware. As the butler knocked, however, Loretta realized that she'd been mistaken. It
looked as if the brass knob and hinges had not been replaced, but rather coated with thick,
lusterless black paint.
A nervous voice responded to the butler's gentle knock: "Yes?"

"It's Dickerson, sir," the butler announced. "I have Dr. Capinelli here."

"Yes... yes!" the voice replied quickly, sounding deeply relieved. "Send her in... and don't
forget the mirrors."
"Yes, Master Lawrence."

The butler turned toward her, his face slightly flushed with embarrassment. "Doctor, I'm
afraid I must ask you to open your purse."
"Excuse me?" Loretta asked.

"I'm very sorry, but Master Lawrence instructed me that when you arrived I should...