"Stultz, Thomas - A Gift Of Murder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stultz Thomas)

"That's when I told her."

"Told her what?" Mr. Naile felt the excitement rise in his body he hadn't felt in years. He was ahead in his son's story, and he asked himself - 'What was the obvious conclusion?' He knew before Kevin spoke again.

"That I would kill her." Kevin slumped back down in the chair, body sagging with the release of the words.

"Listen to me Kevin. You've got to trust your father now, and tell me. What has happened to Beth?" Kevin saw his father's eyes, and found in them a calm and understanding he'd rarely seen. He began his story.

"A few days after that I followed them. Beth and this guy Peter. I wanted to find out if it truly was all over - or if she just pulled that stunt because she was jealous. I trailed them across campus to the theater building, and then inside. They were doing what a lot of theater majors do which is sneak out the fire exit up the escape and onto the roof. It was one of our favorite places when we were a couple. After a few minutes I crept up after them." Kevin labored getting the telling right. Mr. Naile watched him pant in frustration as Kevin's eyes wandered over to the bottle of scotch. Mr. Naile poured him half a drink while Kevin still held the glass.

"They had their backs to me, sitting on the edge, looking out over the quad. I hid myself behind a chimney, and watched." Mr. Naile began pacing, looking very much the police detective role he unconsciously slipped into.

"I watched for a time, waiting for a sign. I wanted to see another kiss - an embrace. Anything that would tell me that we were through. But all they did was talk. They watched the sun set together, then Peter left Beth alone." Kevin clenched up his fists in his lap and continued. "While they spoke - Peter would caress her arm, pat her back. I thought it might go farther, but it never did. If I saw them kiss, then I would have left. I would have known it was over."

"You had to know?" Mr. Naile prodded.

"I couldn't go another day without being sure. I loved her."

"So you went up to her." Mr. Naile halted his steps, looked right at Kevin.

"Yes. She denied it at first - but then - she said they were together and we were through. But I still couldn't trust her, she might have still been playing a game."

"You were angry." Mr. Naile deadpanned. A statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"You hit her."

"Yes!" Kevin stood again, but Mr. Naile placed a palm on his chest and eased him back down. He could feel warmth rising through the sweater. Drops of sweat at his temples.

"Relax Kevin. You need to tell me this. Everything."

"She hit me back. Then I pushed her." This last, given with a sniffle. "If only we weren't so close to the edge. I should have pulled her away."

"She fell." Mr. Naile finished for him. He looked to the Rolodex on his desk. One of the cards had James Koeman's number, a lawyer he contacted from time to time for business. Could he counsel on criminal cases?

"The theater building, that part of the roof above the stage is very high." Kevin demonstrated with an upraised hand. Mr. Naile patted the back of Kevin's other hand, a gesture more fatherly than detective. He left it there until Kevin looked up into his eyes.

"It was an accident, Kevin. You didn't mean to kill her." Mr. Naile let his son cry for a time. He took what was left in the glass and slugged it back. There was more to the story, and he had to pull Kevin back together.

"Look at me son. When did this happen?"

"Earlier tonight. I came down right after."

"You didn't tell anyone? My god Kevin, don't you know what the authorities will think when they find her?" Mr. Naile began sweating like Kevin, wondering if James Koeman might still be up at this hour.

"They won't"

Mr. Naile began pacing again. Warming up with the liquor inside him. He looked at Kevin. Read ahead. "You brought her here." Mr. Naile said.