"Westlake, Donald E as Stark, Richard - Parker 01 - The Hunter (Point Blank) 1.2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Westlake Donald E)

She raised her eyes, as though they were being hauled up by pulleys. She looked at him. "I had to," she whispered.

He said, "Where's Mal?"

She shook her head. "Gone. Moved out."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Honest to God."

"When?"

"Three months ago."

He sipped at the coffee. It was stronger than he liked, but that was all right. He shouldn't have come here.

Four in the morning, at the hotel, all of a sudden he'd been awake. And with the vodka still strong in him. So he'd come straight here.

It was just as well Mal was gone. When he met up with Mal, he didn't want any vodka in him.

He lit a cigarette, drank more coffee. He said, "Who pays the rent?"

"Mal," she said.

He got to his feet without a word, stepped swiftly through the swinging door to the dining room. He looked to the left, through the glass doors into the living room, then moved to his right, and shoved open the other door. He reached quickly in and switched on the light.

The bedroom was empty. He strode across and checked the bathroom, and it was empty, too.

Back in the bedroom, he noticed Lynn standing in the doorway, looking at him. He opened the closet. Dresses and skirts and blouses and sweaters. Women's shoes on the floor. He went over to the dresser, looked quickly through the drawers. Only female things.

He shook his head. He looked at her, still watching him from the doorway. "You live alone?"

She nodded.

"And Mal pays the rent?"

"Yes."

"All right. Let's go back to the kitchen."

Again, she led the way. He switched off the bedroom light and followed.

They finished their coffee in silence, and then he said, "Why?"

She jumped, startled, as shaken up as if a firecracker had gone off next to her ear. She gaped at him, and slowly her eyes focused, and she said, "What? I don't -- I don't know what you mean."

He waved a hand, impatiently. "The rent," he said.

"Oh." She nodded, and brought her hands up to her face. They stayed there a few seconds, and then she inhaled shudderingly and lowered her hands again. Her face was no longer expressionless. Now it was ravaged. It was as though invisible weights were sewn to her cheeks, dragging the whole face down. "A payoff, I guess," she said. Her tone was hopeless, like before.