"Goodis, David - The Burglar" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goodis David)

He stood beside her profiled face and said close to her ear. "I'll go out."
Her only movement was breathing. She kept her eyes on a garden wall where lights from the other flashlights would show. She said, "Tell them what?"
"Car broke down," he said. "I went to look for a mechanic."
For some moments she had no reply. He waited to hear something. It was a real emergency, yet whatever she said wouldn't mean anything to him in a practical sense, because he was going out anyway. But he liked to know his ideas were solid, and he wanted her to say this was solid. He handed her the tools and his flashlight. He waited.
She said, "You always underestimate the cops."
It wasn't the first time she had said that. It didn't annoy him. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps it was actually a serious weakness in his campaigning, and some night it would truly backfire. But it remained a perhaps and he was never affected strongly by the possible or even probable. The only merchandise he ever bought was the definite.
He said, "Watch your diet," just to say something before he climbed out. Then he was through the window and out on the lawn, working close to the house, getting toward the rear. Shrubbery came up in front of his face and he circled it and saw Dohmer crouching near the stone steps leading to the kitchen door. He made a little sound through the corner of his mouth. Dohmer turned and looked at him. He gave Dohmer a small smile, then moved on, passing Dohmer, working his way around to the other side of the house, cutting across the lawn and seeing Baylock pressed hard against a wall of the garage on the far side of the lawn. He came up behind the garage, edged his way in toward Baylock, making just enough noise so Baylock could hear him coming. Baylock moved a little, stared at him. He nodded and Baylock returned the nod. He faced around, retraced his steps to bring himself on the other side of the garage. Then there was more shrubbery. He went through it. Another line of shrubbery brought him down near the end of the driveway, toward a curving street lowering its way around the north side of the mansion. He came out and onto the street, took off his coat, opened his shirt collar, put a cigarette in his mouth and struck a match.
Puffing at the cigarette, he walked up the street, holding his coat over one arm, then made the turn at the summit of the climbing street. It brought him in view of the parked black car and the parked red car and the two policemen.
They stood there and waited for him. He sighed and shook his head slowly as he walked up to them. One of them was large and past forty and the other was a young handsome man with pale blue eyes, like aquamarine.
The large cop said, "This your car?"
"I wish it wasn't." Harbin looked at the car and shook his head.
"What you doing around here?" the young cop said.
Harbin frowned at the car. "Know where there's an all-night mechanic?"
The large cop rubbed his chin. "You kidding?"
The young cop looked at the black car. It was a 1946 Chevrolet sedan. "What's wrong with it?"
Harbin shrugged.
"Let's see your cards," the large cop said.
Harbin handed his wallet to the large cop and watched the young cop walking around the Chevrolet and examining it as though it was something new in the zoo. Harbin leaned against a fender and went on smoking his cigarette as he watched the large cop looking through the cards and checking them with the license plates. He saw the young cop opening the front door on the other side and sliding in behind the wheel.
The large cop handed back the wallet and Harbin said, "I must have walked a couple of miles. Nothing. Not even a gas station."
"You realize what time it is?"
Harbin looked at his wristwatch. "Jesus Christ."
From inside the car, the young handsome cop said, "Where's your keys?"
"What do you mean?" Harbin said.
"I mean where's your keys? I want to try it."
Harbin opened the front door next to the steering wheel, reached in toward the ignition lock and found only the lock. He frowned up at the long nose of the young cop. He withdrew himself from the car, threw a hand toward his rear trousers pocket, then went through an act of searching for the keys, telling himself he didn't like the eyes of the young cop.
The young cop came out of the car and folded thick arms and watched him as he searched for the keys.
"God damn it," Harbin said. Now he was going through his coat pockets.
The young cop said, "How come you lose keys?"
"They're not lost," Harbin said. "They got to be around somewhere."
"Been drinking?" The young cop moved in a little.
"Not a drop," Harbin said.
"All right then," the young cop said, "where's the keys for your car?"
Instead of answering, Harbin leaned his head inside the car, under the steering wheel and began to search on the floor for the keys. He heard the young cop saying, "You look at his cards?"
"They're in order," the large cop said.
A hand touched Harbin's shoulder, and he heard the young cop saying, "Hey."
He came out from underneath the steering wheel. He faced the young cop. He said, "Some nights a man just shouldn't go out."
Again the young cop had his arms folded. His aquamarine eyes were lenses. "What do you do?"
"Installment business," Harbin said.
"Door to door?"
Harbin nodded.
The young cop glanced at the large cop and then he turned his handsome face toward Harbin and said, "How do you make out?"
"I break even," Harbin pushed a weak grin onto his lips. "You know how it is. It's a struggle."
"What ain't?" the large cop said.
Harbin rubbed the back of his head. "I must have had the keys in my hand when I got out of the car. Must have dropped them while I was walking." He waited for the policemen to say something, and when they didn't he said, "I might as well crawl in the back and go to sleep."
"No," the young cop said, "you can't do that."
"Can you run me into town?"
The young cop pointed to the red bandit chaser. "Does that look like a taxi?"
Harbin put his hands in trousers pockets and gazed dismally at the street. "Might as well go to sleep in the car."
There was a long wait. Harbin kept his eyes away from their faces. He had a feeling the young cop was watching him closely. He knew it was now at the point where it would go one way or another, and all he could do was wait.
Finally, the large cop said, "Go on, get in your car. The night's half shot anyway."