"Charles L. Harness-George Washington Slept Here" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harness Charles L)

"You and I, perhaps. But the case, no. There's no way we can stop the construction. If you're right,
the Rock is going to collapse, and it'll take the tower with it. If you're wrong, the Bridge goes safely
ahead. Either way, you lose. I can do nothing for you. I might as well go back home."
 "Perhaps you should. It would be safer for you."
"York was murdered, wasn't he?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He found out that the judge owned a big share of the Bridge bonds. He had hard evidence. So go
home, Oliver Potts. You can still catch the late flight."
"No. Not yet. In any case, I'm staying for Fenleigh's funeral, tomorrow morning. I can't stop the
Bridge, Sena, but perhaps you can think of some small, possible thing I can do for you."
"Not for me, Oliver. But how about the men on the tower? There are two elevators on the tower;
traveler creepers, they call them. The first thing Monday morning, ten men will go up to the top of the
tower on one creeper. Then the second creeper will be loaded with girders-- about two and a half tons,
and then it will start up. As soon as it does, the Rock will disappear, the tower will begin to collapse, and
those ten men must die. If you're really determined to do something for me, perhaps you can figure out a
way to prevent those men from being on the tower when it collapses. Maybe if you explained all this to
the judge, he'd order the men not to go up, at least temporarily."
"He'd never do it. He'd consider it an admission your case has possible merit."
"Perhaps you could talk to Mr. Badging?"
"He'd feel even stronger about it." Noting her concern, he added quickly, "But let me think about it."
"Yes."
"Now, we have to make plans. After Fenleigh's funeral tomorrow, I'd like to talk to you again."
"He was your friend?"
"We went through the university together."
"I'm so sorry."
As they left the restaurant, he asked, "What's that big brick building over there, across from the
motel?"
"The County Sanitarium," she said dryly. "Maybe we belong there?"
"Not yet, not yet," he said absently. And now he remembered something he had been meaning to ask.
"Earlier, you mentioned you hadn't even told him. Who was him?"
"George. George Washington, that is. We were sort of... friends."
"Oh." He looked across the street. The face of the main building was well-lit. Beyond the chain-link
fencing and the bit iron gate he tried to read the gold letters on the fa├зade, but they were too far away.
"Goodnight, Sena."
***


4. THE BLACK BAG

As the burial crew lowered the casket into the dark empty rectangle, Potts talked quietly to Miss
Joyner. "Did he take a retainer?"
"It's in the trunk of my car."
After the service was over they walked to her car together. She opened the trunk and helped him lift
out a heavy black leather bag. He laid it on the gravel of the parking lot.
"What in the world..." he muttered.
"A lot of old coins," said Miss Joyner. "He was going to have them appraised, but he never got around
to it."
Potts studied the bag glumly. The leather was ancient, smelly, and cracking in several places. He
sighed. Fen had taken Sena's money, probably old pennies. From the weight, maybe even lead