"Тед Чан. Seventy-Two Letters (72 буквы, Рассказ) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

"What if I paid you more to leave me alone?"
"CanТt do it. Have to think about my reputation, havenТt I? Now letТs
get to business." He grasped the smallest finger of StrattonТs left hand
and abruptly broke it.
The pain was shocking, so intense that for a moment Stratton was
insensible to all else. He was distantly aware that he had cried out. Then
he heard the man speaking again. "Answer my questions straight now. Do you
keep copies of your work at home?"
"Yes." He could only get a few words out at a time. "At my desk. In the
study."
"No other copies hidden anywhere? Under the floor, perhaps?"
"No."
"Your friend upstairs didnТt have copies. But perhaps someone else
does?"
He couldnТt direct the man to Darrington Hall. "No one."
The man pulled the notebook out of StrattonТs coat pocket. Stratton
could hear him leisurely flipping through the pages. "DidnТt post any
letters? Corresponding with colleagues, that sort of thing?"
"Nothing that anyone could use to reconstruct my work."
"YouТre lying to me." The man grasped StrattonТs ring finger.
"No! ItТs the truth!" He couldnТt keep the hysteria from his voice.
Then Stratton heard a sharp thud, and the pressure in his back eased.
Cautiously, he raised his head and looked around. His assailant lay
unconscious on the floor next to him. Standing next to him was Davies,
holding a leather blackjack.
Davies pocketed his weapon and crouched to unknot the rope that bound
Stratton. "Are you badly hurt, sir?"
"HeТs broken one of my fingers. Davies, how did you--?"
"Lord Fieldhurst sent me the moment he learned whom Willoughby had
contacted."
"Thank God you arrived when you did." Stratton saw the irony of the
situation--his rescue ordered by the very man he was plotting against--but
he was too grateful to care.
Davies helped Stratton to his feet and handed him his notebook. Then he
used the rope to tie up the assassin. "I went to your office first. WhoТs
the fellow there?"
"His name is--was Benjamin Roth." Stratton managed to recount his
previous meeting with the kabbalist. "I donТt know what he was doing
there."
"Many religious types have a bit of the fanatic in them," said Davies,
checking the assassinТs bonds. "As you wouldnТt give him your work, he
likely felt justified in taking it himself. He came to your office to look
for it, and had the bad luck to be there when this fellow arrived."
Stratton felt a flood of remorse. "I should have given Roth what he
asked."
"You couldnТt have known."
"ItТs an outrageous injustice that he was the one to die. HeТd nothing
to do with this affair."
"ItТs always that way, sir. Come on, letТs tend to that hand of yours."