"Colin Wilson - The Glass Cage" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wilson Colin)

Anyway, the next one made them think they were still on the right lines."
"The next one? There was another?"
"Last December. This time in Pinchin Street, off Cable Street. That's the East End --
Whitechapel area. The body was in eight pieces, same as before -- behind a hoarding under the railway
arches. This time he'd written up:

Then the inhabitants of those cities
Felt their nerves change into marrow
And the hardening bones began
In swift. . .

"That's all."
 Reade finished:

"In swift diseases and torments
In shootings and throbbings and grindings
Through all the coasts; till, weakened,
The senses inward rushed, shrinking
Beneath the dark net of infection."

Lund said, "I expect you're right, sir. Anyway, he was obviously interrupted that time, and broke
off. Then a woman came forward and said she'd seen a man come out from behind the fence at five
o'clock that morning. . ."
Reade interrupted. "But at five o'clock in December it would be pitch black."
"Quite. But there was a street lamp. She couldn't give any description of him except that he was
very tall. And she thought he got into a car."
"Didn't she look behind the fence?"
"No. Why should she? She probably thought he'd been there for natural purposes."
"Of course. And what happened when the quotation appeared in the newspapers?"
"It didn't. The inspector in charge of the case had it rubbed off -- after having it photographed, of
course. You see, he thought all this stuff about nerves changing into marrow still pointed to somebody in
CND -- the nuclear disarmers. But he didn't want the press to get hold of that angle, for obvious
reasons."
"Why?"
Lund said wearily, "I wouldn't be sure. Perhaps they thought people might start lynching the
nuclear disarmers. I don't know. Anyway, it was washed off."
Reade said, smiling with cheerful malice, "So they still didn't discover it was Blake?"
"Oh yes, eventually. We're not as stupid as all that."
"And how did you find out, as a matter of curiosity?"
"Through a professor at London University -- Dr. Fairclough. He knew it must be Blake, and
finally dug out the quotations. Then he told us about you."
"I see. You have more quotations you want me to identify?"
"No, sir, it's not that. I told you, this was just a routine check. You see, we thought that a man
like this must be pretty well educated. But at the same time a bit dotty, to say the least. Now Dr.
Fairclough says that you're recognized as the leading Blake scholar in England."
Reade said, "That's kind of him."
"And Dr. Fairclough says that people like you do a lot of corresponding with other people who
are interested in Blake."
Reade stood up suddenly. He said, "Oh God. Now I understand. . ."
"Understand what, sir?"