"Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Long-Term Investment" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yarbro Chelsea Quinn)

Inspector had told him; dead women, murdered women, brought back memories of the Ripper, and with
it, other, more personal recollections, as well as the uncomfortable awareness that the Ripper had never
been brought to justice. So Edward was nervous when he passed on Inspector Ames's card and request.
"The police are nothing to fash with, Mister Carfax," he added when he finished explaining the situation.
"When there are dead bodies involved, the police areтАж are persistent."
"Ah, yes. English police. We hear many things about them in my native land," said Mister Carfax,
examining the inspector's card. "What does he want of me, this Inspector Ames? You say there is a
bodyтАФwhat has that to do with me?"
"There's an investigation into the woman's death. The police are gathering information about the
circumstances," said Edward, wondering how Mister Carfax would doubt that: foreigners were
unaccountable.
"What has that to do with me?" Mister Carfax repeated with supreme indifference. "1 know nothing
of this woman. Why should the police need to know that?"
"They want you to go along to the station and tell them what you can. You may know nothing, but
they will want to hear of it from you." Edward tried not to sound too apprehensive, but he suspected he
failed.
"But I have nothing to tell them. Dead women do not interest me." His accent grew stronger, as if his
emotions had loosened his control over the English tongue. "It is most unseemly, to have to answer to the
police, a man of my position."
Although Edward was not sure what that position might be, he said, "They just need to have you tell
them you were not on the docks when the woman was killedтАФthat's all."
Carfax looked indignant as he pulled himself up to his full, and considerable, height. "It is for the
police to wait upon me. Send this Ames word that I will receive him the day after tomorrow in the early
evening." He looked toward the newest arrivals. "How many in this load?"
"Twenty-three of the fancy, eleven of the plain," said Edward, grateful to have this opportunity to
show his efficiency. "The ones with brass fittings are in the row at the center."
"Just so," Carfax approved. "Did you open any of them?"
Edward shook his head. "You said I should not."
 "So I did," Carfax mused, then went on more briskly, "You have done well, Hitchin. I will pay you a
bonus for your work." He strode toward the stairs. "Oh. I suppose you should know I will take nine of
them, for delivery. Tomorrow a drayer will come to fetch them."
"You have a customer, then?" Edward said, relieved to hear it.
Carfax smiled. "In a manner of speaking." He paused. "I will tell you which are to be taken, so you
will not load the wrong ones."
"Very good, sir," said Edward, secretly glad to know some of the stock would be leaving the
warehouse.
As he climbed up the stairs, Carfax said, "This is going very well. By winter I should be established."
"There's always a market for coffins," said Edward, deliberately echoing Carfax's sentiments as he
followed him up the stairs.


"When did Carfax say he would arrive?" Inspector Ames asked, glancing at his pocketwatch for the
third time. It was twenty minutes past the hour Carfax had said he would be at his warehouse for their
meeting. The afternoon was closing toward evening already; fall was beginning.
"He said four, but he was coming in from the country, and he may have been delayed on the road."
Edward felt acute embarrassment at this predicament. "You may have to be patient. He was determined
to meet with you, or so he said when he left day before yesterday."
"Well, I will wait a while longer," Inspector Ames said with a ponderous sigh. "He's the last one I
have to interview from this area."
"Any progress?" Edward did not want to know, but he was determined to keep the inspector