"Thompson, Jim - Wild Town" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thompson Jim)

"That'd make her pretty stupid, wouldn't it? Even halfway bright, she'd know that an autopsy was a cinch."
"So she was stupid," Bugs said. "So are a lot of people."
He had seen Amy at last, standing in a nearby doorway. He caught her eye, and she smiled uncomfortably, disclaiming connection with the situation with an embarrassed gesture.
He looked away from her coldly, turning to Ford. "You don't really suspect Miss Vara. You have no reason to. But she's answered all your questions, and--"
"Uh-uh. 'Fraid you're wrong there," Ford said. "Ain't begun to ask 'em all."
"Then ask them back in Ragtown! Follow along behind us, if you want to but we're leaving. I've had enough, by God! I'm not going to sit here while you pull your clown act on Miss Vara. And she's not going to sit here and take it. We--"
"You mean you don't like sittin' here?" Ford's eyebrows went up. "Well, now, I thought it was right comfortable. But o'course if you'd rather go down to the jail. . . That's right, yep," he nodded, "You're still in my county."
"But--" Bugs choked up with fury. "What's it all about, for God's sake? Why are you--"
"Now, dogged if it don't look like you're gettin all excited," Ford said. "Miss Vara, maybe we ought to do our talkin' out on the walk."
"She's not doing any more talking. We're going," Bugs said.
"Wouldn't be much point to it. Doubt if you get six blocks before a squad car brought you back. Hardly figure it's worth doin', do you, Miss Vara?"
Rosalie didn't answer him. She simply opened the door quickly and got out. Ford strolled around the car and joined her on the walk.
"Now which-all rooms do you make up at night, Miss Vara? Besides Mr. McKenna's, that is."
"Well, the other night workers sleep out, so his would be the only one I do regularly. But there are always a few others--not always the same ones on the same nights--that I occasionally make up."
"Uh-huh?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Hanlon, for example. Mr. Hanlon particularly He frequently doesn't go to sleep before morning because of the pain he's in, and . . ."
Bugs got out of the car. He asked what the hell Ford was pulling. "lf your questions are so damned important, why didn't you ask them sooner? Why did you wait until now? Why did you just let everything slide until now, and then--"
"Could be I wasn't ready until now," Ford said blandly. "What's wrong with now, anyways?"
"Everything! Miss Vara's--she's had a hard day and she doesn't feel well. And we both have to work tonight. Work, understand? W-o-r-k! We're working tonight, and if we don't get back and--"
"W-o-r-k, eh?" Ford said. "Now, I always thought you spelled it with a _u_. Fella learns somethin' new every day don't he?"
"Now, dammit, Ford . . ."
"But I see your point, got to be gettin' in your beauty sleep. Can't say that Miss Vara stands in need of any more beauty-in', but I can see where you. . ." He broke off grinning, beckoned without turning around. "Amy girl. Come on over."
Amy came forward reluctantly. Lou Ford gave her a jovial nudge toward Bugs.
"Got some talkin' to do to Miss Vara, here," he explained. "But her and Bugs have got to be gettin' back. So I figure maybe you better ride with him, and she can just come along with me."
"Now, really Lou"--Amy's shamed eyes dropped. "I'd be glad to ride with Mac, of course, but--"
"Miss Vara's riding with me," Bugs said bluntly. "I brought her here, and--"
"No, please!" Rosalie gave him a quick smile. "It's perfectly all right. Mr. McKenna. Let's do as Mr. Ford says."
Bugs hesitated, assented surlily. There was nothing else to do that he could see. As Ford and Rosalie departed, he yanked the car door open, grunted a rude invitation to Amy Standish.
"Thank you," she said. "I think I'd better take a bus."
"Oh, come on, dammit! If I'm willing, why--"
"Yes, why?" she cut in shakily "Why should I do anything but grovel with gratitude? You can get upset and lose your temper and act just as nasty as you know how, and that's all right! That's your privilege and I'm just supposed to put up with it. I'm not supposed to have any feelings! I'm not supposed to feel any humiliation! I'm not entitled to any c-courtesy or u-understanding or--"
She was about to cry, Bugs observed with an inward groan. God, he'd already had one crying woman on his hands today and a woman in tears was one thing that had always got him. He just couldn't take it. And he didn't want to hurt Amy. His feelings about her might be pretty mixed up, but he certainly didn't want her hurt.
So he apologized profusely. He got her into the car, and they headed for Ragtown. The traffic was even heavier now than it had been in the morning. The around-the-clock oilfield shifts were changing, and the cars of the workmen vied with the mammoth trucks and tractors for space on the highway.
It was impossible to make any time. Bugs finally gave up trying to. Idling along between two trucks, he slanted a glance at Amy, caught her studying him with a peculiar expression on her face.
It vanished instantly. Looking straight ahead, she remarked that Miss Vara was a very pretty girl.
"What is she, Spanish? Mexican?"
"No--I mean, I guess she could be," Bugs said. Because he wasn't ashamed, naturally, and of course she'd probably find out the truth from Ford, sooner or later. But right now he wasn't up to explaining why he'd been in Westex with a Negro maid.
"She's very pretty" Amy repeated. "If you like that type. She doesn't strike me as someone who'd wear very well, but I'm probably mistaken. I hope she isn't in any trouble?"
"She isn't. Your friend Ford was just throwing his weight around."
"That isn't like Lou." Amy shook her head serenely "Perhaps he didn't go about it in the right way, but I'm sure that he must have had a good reason to--"
"And I'm sure he didn't have! What were you doing over there today anyhow? I mean"--Bugs got a grip on his temper--"it's your own business. You don't owe me any explanations. But--"
"Why, I don't mind," said Amy; and she didn't seem to. On the contrary. "Lou goes to Westex quite frequently. I don't know why exactly, but it's the largest city in the county so I suppose there'd be any number of reasons why he might have to. I rode over with him to see about finding a job."
"Then it was just a coincidence that we bumped into each other?" Bugs said disbelievingly. "He wasn't--huh? You went to see about a job?"
"Yes. The schoolboard discharged me yesterday That's why I was so upset when you came to the house last night."
"But why did--" he caught himself. "I guess you'd probably rather not talk about it."
"I don't mind, now. I was pretty torn up about it at the time, but now that it's happened . . . It was because of that day I was at Lou's house. You know. The afternoon that y-you--that you came there. Someone saw me going out the back door, and the word got around. And yesterday I was fired."
"I see," Bugs mumbled. "Uh--did you get the job today?"
"No. I think Lou took steps to see that I wouldn't get it. In fact, I think he may have had quite a bit to do with my losing my teacher's job." She looked at him, smiling at his expression. "No, I'm not angry about it. I was, and I probably will be again. But I always know that Lou thinks a great deal of me. If he does something like this--well, it's meant for my own good."
Bugs's eyes narrowed angrily, but he didn't say anything. He didn't trust himself to. Ford had compromised her. He'd helped to get her canned from one job, and he'd kept her from getting another one. And he was fully prepared, apparently, to continue with the same hateful line of conduct. Yet she sat here defending him. Saying he did these things for her own good!
"You see," she went on, "Lou feels that his own life is wasted. He hates what he's doing. He's not suited to it, and it's twisted him. Actually, he's very scholarly. He was a brilliant student, and--"