"Walsh, Thomas - Nightmare In Manhattan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Walsh Thomas)

УWould you?Ф Donnelly put in. He must have been listening with half an ear. УWhy, Martin? What makes you think that theyТre taking care of him at all?Ф

He looked sidewise, above his glasses, at the floor between his desk and Lieutenant Nolan.

УI donТt think thereТs any way of even guessing at what happened yesterday Ч not yet. But IТll tell you this much. I wouldnТt be lifting a finger now, not one finger, if I could make myself believe that the child was still all right. I canТt, somehow. God knows why. But itТs in my mind that he didnТt live ten minutes after this fella got hold of him yesterday.Ф

Calhoun rubbed a forefinger along his jaw, and examined the forefinger. It was something to do. Six years old, Calhoun remembered; but still, if he had given the redhead any trouble or difficultyЕ He began to lose his own conviction about the boyТs safety. His expression remained unchanged, but a small muscle in that big jaw made itself very evident.

УNow I might be wrong about that,Ф Donnelly admitted, looking at Calhoun this time over the spectacles. УI hope I am, dТye see. But itТs in my mind Ч and thatТs why this bucky boy with the red hair will never put his hands on a penny of that blood money, not if I know it. The low scum. The miserable, sneaking cur.Ф

He again nodded, just as grimly.

УAnd I donТt believe that theyТre going to talk to the father in here tonight, either of them; itТs too risky, because they donТt know the lay of the land yet. But thereТs no reason why they wouldnТt show up for a few minutes, just to see what the father does, and to sniff around after us. TheyТll want to know whether or not weТre taking any part in the thing; thatТs important to them, and they might think theyТre safe enough in just coming in here and inspecting the place. Well ЧФ He repossessed himself of the architectТs plan. УSit down, Calhoun. I want all of us to get to work on this thing right now.Ф

They did, and that first meeting broke up about a quarter of three. After it, Donnelly went over to the Hotel Belvidere in the southeast corner of the terminal to get some sleep, and Lieutenant Nolan took over for him.

There were a good many things to be done within a few hours. Copies of the Louie Rothman snapshot had to be distributed to the men who would be on duty in Manhattan Depot tonight, and these men had also to be familiarized with the interior layout of the terminal. Afterward, too, Calhoun had to seclude himself with a police artist, modifying feature after feature, in sketch after sketch, until a first rough outline of the redhead became a fairly adequate representation of the flat jaws and the harsh mouth. San Francisco, early that morning, had been contacted in regard to him; but so far San Francisco did not seem able to place the physical description, which was all they had to go on at this time.

Then at half past four, when Calhoun had finished with the artist, Frances Kennedy appeared with George OТMara. She had been studying pictures downtown all afternoon, but with no more success than Calhoun had had with them last night; and now Nolan explained to her that she was still one of the four people who could be depended upon to recognize the big redhead at sight. They could use her tonight, therefore, if she felt at all up to it. Did she?

УOf course,Ф Frances said. She was very quiet and firm about it. УAnything. Just what do you want me to do, Lieutenant?Ф

A fist was checked, and Nolan assigned her a position on the west balcony, overlooking the concourse. He also inspected her rather critically.

УShe needs some food,Ф he instructed Calhoun. УTake her downstairs and see that she eats something. YouТve got an hour.Ф

So they had to sit across from each other in one of the Manhattan Depot restaurants; and presently Calhoun broke a rather strained and difficult silence on FrancesТs part by giving her the news about Louie Rothman, and by explaining the precautions which were being put into effect all over the station area for tonight.

УI thought theyТd be worried about Carl,Ф Frances remarked, with something to say then. УTheyТd be expecting him sometime today, surely.Ф

УI think it all depends,Ф Calhoun said. There was no more pugnacity about him, no hands on hips business; he was serious, direct and straightforward. УDonnelly figures they mightnТt expect him until sometime tonight. That could cover it, you understand. We hope so, anyway.Ф

УOh!Ф She cut into her steak sandwich. УI didnТt see anything about it in the newspapers, either.Ф

She wouldnТt, Calhoun informed her, because the note had warned Mr. Murchison against any kind of publicity; and the thing here was to make the kidnapers believe that he was doing exactly what they had told him to do. Donnelly could keep the thing under cover for several days; he had done it so far, at least.

УI see.Ф She cut again into her steak sandwich, but without eating anything.

УDonТt push it around,Ф Calhoun muttered at her. УEat it. I think weТre all going to have a pretty long wait upstairs.Ф

But still there was very little appetite in her. When she thought of the redheaded man, a small but hard lump gathered itself together in her stomach, the instinctive fear and repulsion she had felt previously for him intensified now, because now she knew what he was, and what he had done yesterday afternoon up in North Rhinehill.

She did not expect this Willie Calhoun Ч or Tough Willie, as someone had referred to him last night Ч to sympathize with or even to understand how she felt; but apparently he did, because he glanced at her several times in a very sharp, guarded manner.

УNow listen,Ф he said finally, rasping again. УThat isnТt any good. YouТre letting yourself get all worked up about this thing, arenТt you?Ф

Frances shook her head quickly.

УOh, no! ItТs just Ч Ф