"H. L. Gold - Fog" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gold H. L)

gorillaтАФan enormous gorilla! He started to attack us but we scared him offтАФ"
Two radio cars arrived within three minutes.
"What's happened here?" the driver of the first car shouted.
 "A gorilla's loose in the park!" the boathouse keeper yelled.
"Where'd he get loose from?" the cop sneered.
Trembling, the keeper shrugged his shoulders. "How d' I know? And I don't care. All I know is
there's an ape in the park."
The four cops looked around vaguely.
"Ask them people." The keeper waved his hand toward the path outside the boathouse. "They seen
him same's I did. They'll tell you."
But there was nobody outside the house. In various stages of nervous collapse, they had all
disappeared. The cops shrugged their shoulders helplessly and promised to look into the matter. There
was little conviction in their voices, however.

DR. ROLLINS stopped pacing the floor suddenly and stood squarely before Cobb.
"If you don't want to call the police, at least we ought to get a private detective agency working on
the case. We're not fitted to go searching the whole cityтАФ"
Cobb looked almost convinced. His haggard, old face was lined with suffering and worry. He
wanted to get the burden off his shoulders. Even if the police had to shoot his beast-man it did not matter
to him, so long as he got rid of his fear and worry.
The telephone bell jangled. Wilhelmina shuffled in.
"It's for you, Dr. Rollins," she said in her high, cracked voice. "It's from your office."
"Tell them I'm not here," he snapped. "Tell them anything."
"Dr. Little says he has to talk to you," she insisted.
Rollins made a little gesture of impatient resignation and strode angrily to the telephone.
"Hello!" he barked.
"Bartholomew's here," Dr. Little said "He wants to see you. Jump right over."
Rollins clapped the receiver down. "I've got to go," he called to Cobb. "I'll be back in ten minutes."
Cobb shuffled in. He wanted to beg Rollins not to leave him, but lacked the courage. Instead he said:
"I wanted to go over to the agency."
"Wait till I get back," Rollins called back to him as he closed the door and hurried over to his office,
only three blocks away. Old Bartholomew was his best patient, and to refuse to see him would be
endangering one of his principal sources of income.
"Ah, Mr. Bartholomew," he greeted his patient cheerily. "You're looking well this morning."
Mr. Bartholomew looked anything but well, and hastened to insist on the fact that he looked as bad
as he felt. White and painfully drawn, his face was lined with fear, and his hands shook violently. He
looked sick enough to need a doctor.
Rollins took him into his office and seated him. A glass of whisky calmed him slightlyтАФenough to tell
his story.
"You know you told me to exercise, doctor," Bartholomew said shakily. "So I've been rowing an
hour every morning for the last two weeks. And it's been doing me a world of good," he hurried to affirm.
"Only this morning I went down to the lake as usual, to take out a boat. And this time I was ahead of the
boathouse keeper, so I waited around. He came down the path looking for his keys, but he didn't need
his keys because the door of the office was torn right off its hinges. He looked at it, sort of baffled, and
stuck his head in to see if there were any robbers hanging around yet. There weren't any. But there was a
giant ape inside and it came dashing out after usтАФ"
"AтАФwhat!" Rollins yelled.
Bartholomew started back. "I didn't drink last night. I swear it! And there were about ten other
people around the boathouse, waiting to take out boats. They all saw it, too!"
Rollins gulped. "HereтАФhere, you take these pills," handing his patient a tiny box. "Stay in bed all day.