"Kate Thornton - Too Stupid To Live" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thornton Kate)

The next morning I saw Dawn in the alley, her sequined plastic bag splattered. I didn't have to call the cops, though--someone had already done that. I stared for a while until the sirens wailed out, then went on to the office. I was shaking as I grabbed for that aspirin bottle on my desk.

Corbett Stuyvesant burst into my office and kicked the door shut.

"You bitch!" he raged. "I thought we had a deal! I shoulda strangled you yesterday!" He lunged over the desk at me. "I could do it now, you stupid bitch, I don't have anything to lose!"

"What are you talking about?" I asked as I dodged his inept attack.

"I'm fired, bitch! Fired!"

"For what?" I asked. "I didn't say anything to anyone." Maybe Bennie had, though. I had forgotten about Bennie.

Corbett didn't get a chance to answer me though because two burly cops and a guy from our security department opened my door and calmly restrained him in a choke hold. "Sorry, Miss B.," the security guy said. They hauled him out and I sat down again.

Bennie poked his head around the corner with a grin. "Hey, Miss B., they just arrested Corbett Stuyvesant for killing What'shername, that girl. Fuckin' nutcase," he said cheerfully.

Fuckin' nutcase was right, and if anyone deserved the inconvenience of arrest and possible conviction, it was Corbett.

The police came to interview me about an hour after they took Corbett away. They asked me where I had been between the hours of one and seven in the morning, and I told them I had been home and then at my desk. Everyone knew I always got in early, and our building guard thought he remembered seeing me come in. They asked me when I had last seen Dawn, and I told them about seeing her in the park. Then they asked me when I had last seen my brother.

"I don't understand," I said. "What's my brother got to do with this?"

"Well, he's her father, isn't he? At least, she was listed as next of kin on an arrest record of his. We found him when we ran your name--you bailed him out on that one. And that makes her your niece, doesn't it?" the nice detective with the red tie said. "I know she lived with an uncle on her mother's side, but we'd like to get in touch with her father, too. "

I told them about Billy's street habits. I also told them where to find his VA doctors. "But I know he had nothing to do with this," I said. "And she didn't even know we were related. I don't think she's seen her father in a couple of years, and I haven't seen her since she was a toddler, until she got hired on here. I certainly didn't have anything to do with that."

They wrote down everything I said and told me not to leave town until it was all cleared up. I was relieved to hear that Dawn's uncle was taking care of the funeral arrangements. I figured I'd better try to find Billy before the cops did and let him know the bad news.

The streets of a city can be scary at night, but I am too drab a target for most of the riff and raff. I set out after dinner to find my brother, and after about half an hour searching by car, I located him on a corner down near the Seventh Street Bridge in a pretty bad part of town.

He recognized me right away, although I was a little wary because sometimes he sees me as just one more piece to a bad puzzle. That night he was fine, though. I'd brought a picnic dinner and slipped him a few bucks, and we sat on a bus bench and talked about old times. I brought the conversation around to his daughter and his eyes clouded. He had never been the same after her visit.

"Dawn," he said. "She was a sweet baby, you know. Never cried or fussed. Delivered her myself, remember? I was takin' that midwife course back then. I miss her sometimes. Wish they could stay babies..."

I broke the news as gently as I could, despising Dawn for making this conversation necessary. Even in death, she could annoy.

My brother just looked down into his lap, studying his gnarled hands. Finally he heaved a sigh. "I guess it's for the best. She wasn't no smart kid, you know. Had a lot of problems..." His voice trailed off and his face just sort of shut down.

I didn't ask him where he had been at the critical times. I couldn't. Instead, I asked around and found out that he might have spent the night in a locked shelter.

I hoped it was true.

The next morning at work the place was a hive of gossip. I got summoned to Personnel and had to explain why I hadn't informed anyone of my relationship to "the deceased."

"No one asked," I retorted. "I didn't know anything about her hiring until they brought her around to meet me. She didn't recognize me, so I didn't see any reason to shout it from the rooftops. She wasn't the sort of person I would want to be related to."

"We have another matter here, too," the Personnel Director, a sharp-nosed man of about thirty-five said. "Corbett Stuyvesant's attack on you. Why didn't you report it immediately?" He peered at me over heavy glasses.

I didn't want to tell him that I had blackmailed Corbett Stuyvesant into shutting up about Dawn. Instead, I told him that I had spoken to Mr. Stuyvesant and we had amicably worked out our differences. Personnel Directors love to hear that sort of bullshit. He smiled.