"Nayler, Ray - An AIr-Conditioned Silence" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nayler Ray)

= An Air-Conditioned Silence
by Ray Nayler


There were children down at the pool, laughing shapes in the twilight haze. Beyond the children, the neon sign flickered, lighting up "Bide-A-Wee Motel" and "Vacancy" in flashing red. Past the sign, out on the freeway, tractor-trailers rumbled past. And after the freeway was the dark froth of trees.

The signal would come from the trees, after dark -- if nothing else had gone wrong. If Jerome was not lying on a coroner's slab. Kenneth let the curtains fall back into place, and turned the air conditioner up to high. Its whir became a roar, and cool air poured into the hot little motel room. Kenneth collapsed onto the bed, letting his head sink into his hands.

He stayed that way, very still, until the knock at the door.

When the knock came he tensed, bringing his head up like a gazelle scanning for predators in the treeline.

There was another, more insistent knock.

He cleared his dry throat. "Who's there?"

"Maid service."

He went to a suitcase and opened it, removing a small black pistol and sliding it into the front pocket of his pants. Keeping his hand on the pistol, he peered through the spy-hole. The tension in his muscles dissipated. He undid the chain and swung the door wide.

The motel maid was a short, thin woman, somewhere between twenty and twenty-five, with large brown eyes and short cream-colored hair kept back with interlacing bobby pins. Her small, meticulously painted mouth had begun to show the first twists of a lifetime of disappointment. She stood in the doorway in her crisp white uniform with an armload of towels and sheets. There was a slight tremor in her upper arms, a nervousness around her lips. The small gold nametag over her breast read "Tally" in block letters.

Kenneth had glimpsed her through his window and had let her in once, two days ago to change the sheets on the bed -- to do otherwise would have aroused suspicion. He had been at the motel for three days. He had left only to eat -- twice, at a 24-hour restaurant down the road. The rest of his food he got from the snack machine near the pool. The room's small garbage was filled with empty Cokes, desiccated bags of salted peanuts, discarded candy-bar wrappers. Although the motel was over a thousand miles from the bank, every moment he expected The Knock and the stone face of a Bureau man through the spy-hole.

One more night. Then -- signal or no signal -- he would leave. He would have fulfilled his part of the bargain. He would be free.

"I thought you could use some clean sheets and towels."

Kenneth gave her his best attempt at a smile and stood aside to let her in.

"You sure don't go out much. I didn't want to disturb you, but I couldn't get in here to clean today. You had the "Do Not Disturb" sign up and...where are you from, anyway?" She was nervous. It came off of her in blasts, like a lighthouse beam across him.

"California."

"Really?"

This time he managed a grin. "I see no reason to lie about it." That was good -- his wit had snapped back into place.

She laughed, in a way that was somehow chipmunk-like, and obscured her small mouth with a proportionately tiny, thin hand. Two thoughts came to him when she brought her hand up to her mouth. First: she was nervous because she was attracted to him. Second: he was equally attracted to her. It hit him suddenly, and hard.

She set the sheets down on the bed. Their eyes met, dodged, met again. She picked up the towels and went toward the bathroom. He felt a surge of guilt, watching the sway of her small hips.

And then, fear -- the knock could still come. Now, five minutes from now, an hour....

She stopped, almost around the corner now, her voice cracking.

"It was on the news -- your face -- the bank cameras. When you took off the mask going out -- a bad picture -- but still -- good enough. The rest of the motel staff -- they don't know. But I recognized you."

He couldn't breathe. Cold washed over him, and he felt his knees buckling. They held, barely. Her cheeks colored. "I've known since yesterday. I would never -- I would never tell anyone. If you knew me -- well, you would know. You're safe, with me. I...." Her voice shuddered, stalled.