"Milo Talon" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

the lips. "What's wrong?" I straightened up. "Do you know them?"
"Know them? Oh, no! No! It's just that-well, she's so pretty!"
She handed the picture back to me a bit reluctantly, I thought. "Thank you. I was
hoping you knew them."
"Are they relatives?"
"No, just some people I am trying to locate."
"Oh? Are you an officer?"
"It's a business matter." She was rising to leave. "You did not tell me your name."
"Nor did you tell me yours." She smiled prettily. "I am Molly Fletcher."
"Milo Talon here." A glance toward the kitchen showed me German was hard at work.
"He seems to be busy now, but if you wish to stay in this town I'd suggest talking
to German Schafer. He might need some help."
She thanked me and turned away. I watched her out to the street and glanced after
her as she started toward the hotel.
Suppose, just suppose that man across the street was not watching for me, but for
her? It made a lot more sense. She was a very pretty girl.
One by one I began reading the letters, yet my attention was not on them.
Molly Fletcher-if that was her name-had recognized one or both of the people in that
picture. There was no other way to account for that quick intake of breath.
Who was Molly Fletcher? Why had she come here, and why did she wish to stay?
Was her presence in the restaurant accidental? And why had she chosen me to address?
Of course, she may have simply
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been waiting until someone was alone, but the drummer had certainly let her know
he was available. Women had seemed to find me interesting, although I never knew
why. It might be that I talked of faraway places they had never seen.
Yet why did she wish to stay here, of all places? And why, when it came to that,
had Jefferson Henry chosen this place to start his search over again?
And of all things, why me?
20
TWO
German Schafer came in from the kitchen and began clearing the tables. "Noticed you
talkin' to the young lady. Right pretty, ain't she?"
"She's looking for a job, German. If the railroad men find you have a pretty waitress
you'll do twice the business."
"Don't I know it? If she's huntin' a job she doesn't have to look no further. Not
if she's willin' to work."
A man never knew where he might garner information, so I said, "German? Did you ever
run across a man named Newton Henry? Or a girl named Stacy Albro?"
"Never did." He looked around from the table he was wiping off. "Newton Henry? Any
kin to him in the private car?"
"Son."
"Hmm. Never heard of him, but that other name . . . Albro. That's got a familiar
ring. Uncommon name, too."
He started for the kitchen. "You'll be in for breakfast? I'm open at six and that's
nigh to sun-up this time of year."
"Count on me. German? When you come back past the window see if there's anybody in
the door yonder or loafing on the street near the hotel."
He returned and began gathering dishes. Twice he glanced out the window. "No, not