"Kyle, Duncan - Terror's Cradle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kyle Duncan)

He shrugged. 'It helps. Always it helps.' Then he smiled. 'We are a slightly bureaucratic people, Mr Sellers.'

So I showed him my passport, my Cable and Wireless card, my Press card and my Diner's Card. The Diner's Card seemed to impress him most. At least I existed and was credit worthy.

He handed them back to me politely. 'I know so little. Miss Hay had a booking for ten days. She slept here one night. On the following night she apparently telephoned the police, said she was in grave danger and asked for immediate protection. The police sent a car without delay. When it arrived, she had gone.'

'The phone call,' I asked. 'Was it made from the hotel?'

'Oh, yes.'

'You're sure?'

'Certainly. It was put through the hotel operator.'

'At what time?'

'At five minutes past eleven, I believe. The list can be checked if it is important.'

'She didn't tell you she was in danger?'

'No.'

'Or any of the staff?'

'No.'

'What about her room. May I see it?'

'I'm sorry.' He shrugged again, but with a touch of irritation. 'The room is locked. Instructions from the police, you understand. If you get their permission, then naturally ..."

I said, Was there any commotion?'

'No,'

'What about her things. Were they disturbed?'

'By the police, inevitably. They spent much time in the room.'

'But there was no sign of a struggle?'

He sighed a little. 'These are questions you must ask the police, Mr Sellers. I am simply the manager of a hotel. We prefer -'

'Not to get involved?'

'Naturally. No hotel likes these affairs. If I can help, naturally I will. But I have told you all that I know. I really think you should talk to the police now.'

I nodded. 'I will, Mr Pederson. Thanks.'

He showed me out with the same neutral courtesy, trying to mask his distaste for the whole business, but it showed all the same.