"Callahan 04 - Lady Sally's House 01 - Callahan's Lady" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robinson Spider)

"Kate, I'm not exactly a blushing virgin-"
"I've treated very few debutantes for stab wounds."
"-I've figured out that this place isn't a Bible Society, okay? So tell me, what's it like? How's Sally to work for?"
"This is the best place I've ever worked," she said happily. "Including some fancy-schmancy hospitals, back when medicine was my main career. And Lady Sally is a total dear."
Uh huh. I wondered whether she was brainwashed, or a tool of management, or just too scared to tell the truth. I decided it didn't much matter which: for my purposes she was useless. I'd already figured out that all the rooms would be bugged-but I'd been hoping for a wink or a grimace or some other sign.
"Really," she was saying, "this is a House-of healthy repute-no sleaze, fleas or social disease. You have no idea how lucky you are."
"I'm learning. Are we in the city?'
"Brooklyn," she said. "Not far from where you were injured."
"Huh," I said. "Funny. Somehow it doesn't feel like Brooklyn."
That made her smile. "No, it doesn't, much."
I wanted to ask for a more precise location, but did not dare. I took another tack. "Kate? I don't mean to be a bother, but. . . would you bring that phone on the dresser over here by the bedside? And tell me what number to dial to reach you? I yelled for help a little while ago, and nobody heard me."
She frowned slightly. "Oh, you must have dreamed it, Maureen. These rooms are very well soundproofed, it's true. But Mary monitors every room in the House during working hours, and even a squeak for help would have brought her on the run.'
Maybe that was the cue I'd been hoping for: an open admission that the rooms were bugged here.
"But we are between shifts, now, and Mary's off duty. Besides, you might have people on the outside you want to contact, let them know you're okay. Here you go-"
She brought me the phone!
"What was the matter anyway?" she asked, setting it down on the bedside table. "Are you all right now?"
"Oh yeah," I said absently, dizzy with hope. "Just a twinge."
"That's good," she said. She jotted some three-digit numbers down on a pad. "If I'm not at this first number, I'll usually be at the second. . . and this third number is Main Reception downstairs. Oh, and dial six if you want an outside line, then the area code if it's outside the 212 area. Ciot it?"
I studied her face carefully. It was open, sincere, friendly. Could there be a hidden camera somewhere? "Got it. Thanks, Kate."
"My pleasure, Maureen. Can I do anything else for you?"
I wondered how often she said those words here. "No, I'm fine."
"I'll run along, then." She grinned suddenly. "Got to wipe down O~R. for the next shift. If you get bored, there's a few magazines in the drawer beside you."
She left, and I held a brief but intense debate with myself.
Was it or wasn't it safe to call for help? Maybe it was smarter to play dumb. This might be a test. Even if Mary really was off duty, there could be a tape recorder rolling.
Then again, if I could get off a quick enough S.O.S., maybe help could arrive before they got around to playing back the tape...
Which led me right up against the brick wall. Who was there to call? The cops? My mother?
Most other working girls either bored the stockings off me, or gave me the willies. I had maybe four sort-of friends among the sisterhood, and none I would trust to take a splinter out of my butt. Much less get my butt out of some serious fire. But who did I know in town besides hookers? I could not recall a single john giving out his phone number-nor one I would call on even if I could. Big Travis' number was permanently out of service The cops would take their orders from the same people Lady Sally did. And I would not have called my mother if I were being roasted and tortured in Hell.
I thought of someone I could call. It galled me to have to ask him for help. There was no question that he could help me, and I had absolutely no other choice: those were the two most galling things. But this chance, if it was one, might never come again; I was dialing his private number even as I cursed.
I had worked with him once. And been his lover, in a friendly sort of way. And I'd been a fool to quit him for whoring.
"I wasn't anywhere near there nine months ago," he answered on the third ring.
"Professor-" I began, and shut up. I was furious with myself for the relief I felt at the sound of his voice.
"What's wrong, Maureen?" he asked at once.
I began to cry softly. "Prof, it's a clem. I'm in big trouble-you gotta get me out of here!"
"I will. Tell me about it."
"It's all so crazy! This guy turned into a dog, and my old man cut me, and then I got shanghaied into a House. I don't know whether they're listening now or not, how long I can talk-please, Professor, come get me the hell out of here!"
"Where are you? Address and specific location inside, if you can."
"I don't know, exactly! In Brooklyn somewhere, a place run by an old auntie named Lady Sally, but I don't even know what floor I'm on-"
He burst out laughing.
I held the phone away as if it had bitten me, It chirped with distant laughter. -
"What the hell is so goddamn funny?" I shouted into it finally.
"I'm sorry, Mo," he said, still chuckling. "I'm not laughing at you; I'm laughing at the universe. Far be it from me to spoil a joke as good as this. Just listen to me, and believe this: God has sent you what you deserve." He hung up. -
I stared at the phone. I was shattered. And totally confused. And almost angry enough to scream. To be forced to yell "Hey, Rube"-to him of all people!-and then to have him laugh at my tears of fright and hang up on me
I was going to get out of this place if I had to chew my way out. And then hunt him down and neuter him.
Getting out of bed didn't kill me. The carpet was soft, and I only fell twice. I couldn't find my bloody clothes, but the closet was full of all sorts of outfits and one of them fit well enough. Four or five pounds of costume jewelry twisted up in a stocking made a serviceable blackjack. When Lady Sally came in fifteen minutes later I was behind the door, ready.
I remembered the sound of Big Travis hitting cement, and swung harder than my side wanted me to.
"Wake up, Maureen dear," she said. "You came all over queer for a moment."
I tried to sit up in bed, but my side hurt too much. I lay back and glared at her. "Listen to me," I said weakly. "You can kill me, but you can't break me. Big Travis couldn't make me work if I didn't want to, and you can't either!" I was bluffing, of course. Right then Robin the male maid could have broken me. "I'm an independent, you got that, Your Ladyship? and if you can't deal with that, then you might as well finish me right now." I tried to look tough as nails, and looked to see if I had pushed it too far.
A smile and a frown were wrestling on her face. The frown won.
"You think that you have been shanghaied into my House," she stated. "That I've appointed myself your new owner. Now I begin to understand that goat dance we just did by the door"
"Did you think I was too dumb to figure it out?" I snapped.