"Edward L. Ferman - Best From F&SF, 23rd Edition" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ferman Edward L)

"Oh, Birdie," I groaned, "you know there's no such thing as a killer type. Almost anyone will loll with
a good enough reason."
"I know," she sighed, "but I still can't believe it" She tapped her scarlet fingernails on the dolled
Formica desk top. "How long had Harry been dead?"
He had phoned me about ten after five. I had found the body at seven. "Awhile," I said. "The blood
was mostly dry."
"Before six-thirty?"
"Probably."
She sighed again, but this time with relief. "The Detweiler boy was down here with me until six-thirty.
He'd been here since about four-fifteen. We were playing gin. He was having one of his spells and
wanted company."
"What kind of spell? Tell me about him, Birdie."
"But he couldn't have killed Harry," she protested.
"Okay," I said, but I -wasn't entirely convinced. Why would anyone deliberately and brutally murder
inoffensive, invisible Harry Spinner right after he told me he had discovered something "peculiar" about
the Detweiler boy? Except the Detweiler boy?
"Tell me anyway. If he and Harry were friendly, he might know something. Why do you keep calling
him a boy; how old is he?"
She nodded and leaned her bulk on the registration desk. "Early twenties, twenty-two, twenty-three,
maybe. Not very tall, about five-five or six. Slim, dark curly hair, a real good-looking boy. Looks like a
movie star except for his back."
"His back?"
"He has a hump. He's a hunchback."
That stopped me for a minute, but I'm not sure why. I must've had a mental picture of Charles
Laughton riding those bells or Igor stealing that brain from the laboratory. "He's good-looking and he's a
hunchback?"
"Sure." She raised her eyebrows. The one over the patch didn't go up as high as the other. "If you
see him from the front, you can't even tell."
"What's his first name?"
"Andrew."
"How long has he been living here?"
She consulted a file card. "He checked in last Friday night The 22nd. Six days."
"What's this spell he was having?"
"I don't know for sure. It was the second one he'd had. He would get pale and nervous. I think he
was in a lot of pain. It would get worse and worse all day; then he'd be fine, all rosy and healthy looking."
"Sounds to me like he was hurtin' for a fix."
тАЬI thought so at first, but I changed my mind. I've seen enough of that and it wasn't the same. Take
my word. He was real bad this evening. He came down about four-fifteen, like I said. He didn't
complain, but I could tell he was wantin' company to take his mind off it We played gin until six-thirty.
Then he went back upstairs. About twenty minutes later he came down with his old suitcase and checked
out. He looked fine, all over his spell."
"Did he have a doctor?"
"I'm pretty sure he didn't. I asked him about it. He said there was nothing to worry about, it would
pass. And it did."
"Did he say why he was leaving or where he was going?"
"No, just said he was restless and wanted to be movin' on. Sure hated to see bun leave. A real nice
kid."
When the cops finally got there, I told them all I knew-except I didn't mention the Detweiler boy. I
hung around until I found out that Harry almost certainly wasn't killed after six-thirty. They set the time
somewhere between five-ten, when he called me, and six. It looked like Andrew Detweiler was innocent,