"Фредерик Браун. Night of the Jabberwock (англ) " - читать интересную книгу автораstory breaking. We got to remake!"
I could feel the sudden silence in Smiley's Bar. The conversation between the two other customers stopped in the middle of a word and they turned to look at me. Pete, from the door, looked at me. Smiley, a bottle in his hand, turned to look at me and he didn't even smile. In fact, just as I turned back to the phone, the bottle dropped out of his hand and hit the floor with a noise that made me jump and close my mouth quickly to keep my heart from jumping from it. That bottle crashing on the floor had sounded for a second just like a revolver shot. I waited until I felt that I could talk again without stammering and then I took my hand off the mouthpiece of the phone and said calmly, or almost calmly, "Okay, Clyde, go ahead." CHAPTER TWO "Who are you, aged man?" I said. "And how is it you live?" His answer trickled through my head, Like water through a sieve. "You've gone to press, haven't you, Doc?" Clyde's voice said. "You must have because I tried phoning you at the office first and then somebody told me if you weren't there, you'd be at Smiley's, but that'd mean you were "That's all right," I said. "Get on with it." "I know it's murder, Doc, to ask you to change a story when you've already got the paper ready to run and have left the office, but well, that rummage sale we were going to have Tuesday; it's been called off. Can you still kill the article? Otherwise a lot of people will read about it and come around to the church Tuesday night and be disappointed." "Sure, Clyde," I said. "I'll take care of it." I hung up. I went over to the table and sat down. I poured myself a drink of whisky and when Pete came over I poured him one. He asked me what the call had been and I told him. Smiley and his two other customers were still staring at me, but I didn't say anything until Smiley called out, "What happened, Doc? Didn't you say something about a murder?" I said, "I was just kidding, Smiley." He laughed. I drank my drink and Pete drank his: He said, "I knew there was a catch about getting through early tonight. Now we got a nine-inch hole in the front page all over again. What are we going to put in it?" "Damned if I know," I told him. "But the hell with it for tonight. I'll get down when you do in the morning and figure something out then." Pete said, "That's what you say now, Doc. But if you don't get down at eight o'clock, what'll I do with that hole in the page?" "Your lack of faith horrifies me, Pete. If I say I'll be down in the morning, I will be. Probably." "But if you're not?" |
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