"MacLean, Alistair - The Way to Dusty Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maclean Alistair)

She nodded.

"Fine. True or false?"

"If your spies are certain of their facts, Daddy, then why bother asking me?"

"Mind your tongue." The reference to spies had touched MacAlpine to the raw.

"Apologize for saying "mind your tongue" to me."

"Jesus!" MacAlpine looked at his daughter in an astonishment that was compounded half of irritation, half of admiration. "You must be my daughter. I apologize. Did he drink?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"I don't know. Something clear. He said it was tonic and water."

"And -that's the kind of liar you keep company with. Tonic and bloody water! Stay away from him, Mary. If you don't, it's back home to Marseille for you."

"Why, Daddy? Why? Why? Why?"

"Because God knows I've got enough trouble of my own without having my only daughter tying herself up to an alcoholic with the skids under him."

"Johnny! Alcoholic! Look, Daddy, I know he drinks a little-"

MacAlpine silenced her by the gesture of picking up the phone.

"MacAlpine here. Will you ask Mr. Dunnet to come to see me? Yes. Now." He replaced the phone. "I said I'd tell you why I was asking those questions. I didn't want to. But I'm going to have to."

.Dunnet entered and closed the door behind him. He had about him the look of a man who was not looking forward too keenly to the next few minutes. After asking Dunnet to sit down he said: Tell her, Alexis, would you, please?"

Dunnet looked even more acutely unhappy. "Must I, James?"

"I'm afraid so. She'd never believe me if I told her what we found in Johnny's room."

Mary looked at each in turn, sheer incredulity in her face. She said: "You were searching Johnny's room."

Dunnet took a deep breath. "With good reason, Mary, and thank God we did. I can still hardly believe it myself. We found five bottles of scotch hidden in his room. One of them was half empty."

Mary looked at them, stricken. Clearly, she believed them all too well. When MacAlpine spoke, it was very gently.

"I am sorry. We all know how fond you are of him. We took the bottles away, incidentally."

"You took -the bottles away." Her voice was slow and dull and uncomprehending. "But he'll know. He'll report the theft. There'll be police. There'll be fingerprints -your fingerprints. Then--"

MacAlpine said: "Can you imagine Johnny Harlow ever admitting to anyone in the world that he'd five bottles of scotch in his room? Run along, girl, and get dressed. We've got to leave for -this bloody reception in twenty minutes -- without, it seems, your precious Johnny."

She remained seated, her face quite without expression, her unblinking eyes irremovably fixed on MacAlpine's. After a few moments his expression softened and he smiled. He said: "I'm sorry. That was quite uncalled for."