Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 52, No. 7 & 8, July/August 2007
- Автор: Baldwin Barry, Campbell Melodie
- Год: 2007
- Язык: английский
- Год: Dell Magazines
- ISBN: ISSN:0002-5224
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 52, No. 7 & 8, July/August 2007». Краткое содержание книги:
“Lots of reasons,” Miss Parson answered, “but primarily because to call attention to your slight of hand would have besmirched the honor of Lieutenant Ridgewood. Even though you were feeding him cards, I didn’t think he was aware you were cheating for him.”
“I wasn’t.” The lieutenant’s voice was quiet. His face had lost its flush of red fury and replaced it with a milder expression of sadness and confusion.
“Why, Thomas,” Miss Davis faced him, batting her eyelashes with concern, “surely you don’t believe this preposterous story.”
He did not answer her directly. “You said you had lots of reasons, Miss Parson.”
Miss Parson picked up her story as if there had been no interruption. “Then there was the problem of Mr. Perkins. I knew he was feeding you cards as well, so I assumed he was working together with Miss Davis. But even after your men disappeared I couldn’t be sure of what they were after until I caught sight of Mr. Sully.”
“Sully?”
“One of the men helping Mr. Perkins rob your payroll. He has a bad reputation down south of here.”
“And you couldn’t warn me?”
“When, Lieutenant Ridgewood? When was I supposed to warn you? Miss Davis has been at your side since she finished her little game with Mr. Callaghan. Even that was probably designed to make her appear an empty-headed, flirtatious girl. No, Lieutenant, there was no time to warn you of my suspicions, but now there is plenty of time to warn you that simply charging into the baggage car with your pistol in hand will accomplish nothing other than to make you dead.”
The lieutenant looked again toward the baggage car, then down to the pistol in his hand. He holstered the weapon, then turned back to Miss Parson. “What do you suggest?”
“I cannot believe you are going to listen to this woman!” Miss Davis protested.
“Father Murphy,” Lieutenant Ridgewood asked, “Missus, er, pardon me, madam,” he addressed the old woman, “but I fear I do not know your name.”
“Mrs. Black,” she responded, holding her chin high and looking the lieutenant straight in the eye.
“Father Murphy, Mrs. Black, could I trouble you to take this young woman over to the seats, hold her there, and keep her quiet?”
Father Murphy looked at Mrs. Black and sighed. “Of course you can, Lieutenant, anything we can do to help.”
Mrs. Black sniffed at the priest. “Anything to help our brave boys in the military.”
Miss Davis protested. “You can’t—”
She stopped talking when Mrs. Black’s hand clutched her arm. “And you will be quiet, missy! I guarantee it!”
Miss Davis looked into Mrs. Black’s eyes and shrank back against the priest.
The lieutenant turned back to Miss Parson. “Your plan, miss, and please hurry. We don’t know how much time we have.”
Miss Parson was ready, obviously aware that while the train was racing down the track now, it wouldn’t be too long before it slowed down again. “First we have to act to buy more time and take advantage of the fact that Mr. Perkins and Mr. Sully have divided their forces.”
Lieutenant Ridgewood nodded. “Any thoughts on how we can do that?”
“To begin, we can decouple this car from the stock cars behind it.”
“They’re all rolling downhill,” Patrick noted. “That won’t do much.”
“Not at first,” Miss Parson agreed, allowing her attention to be diverted to Patrick. “But with luck the cars will separate enough to keep Mr. Sully and his companion from returning here. Then Lieutenant Ridgewood can cross this car to the baggage car where he can apply the hand brake. If Mr. Perkins tries to interfere, the lieutenant can shoot him.”
“Better yet,” Patrick suggested, “if Corey here goes with him, he can turn the hand brake while the lieutenant lies in ambush to shoot Perkins if he comes out to stop him.”
“Dangerous, Mr. o’sullivan,” Miss Parson objected.
“But it might be our best chance to stop Perkins without having to rush the car,” the lieutenant said. “May I count on your help, Mr. Callaghan?”
“Of course you can,” Patrick answered for Corey. “My lad here is dying for the chance to get back at Perkins. Imagine him suggesting that Rock Quarry Callaghan would take a dive.”
Corey met Miss Parson’s eyes, saw the concern there, and shrugged. They both knew he wouldn’t let Patrick look like a liar. He’d help the lieutenant.
“What about the rest of you, men?” the lieutenant asked, raising his voice to address the other passengers. “Can I count on any help from the rest of you?”
A murmur followed his request while the other passengers talked it over among themselves. One of the gentlemen rose, apparently speaking for all of them. “If they try to come back in here, we’ll fight them, but we ain’t rushing any railcars.”
The lieutenant looked unhappy with this response so Corey spoke up before the officer could try again. “It’s just as well, sir. What we’re going to try doesn’t take a lot of men, and we do want someone here to protect the women and children.”
The lieutenant nodded. “You’re quite correct, Callaghan. Let’s get on with it.”
He secured the flap on his holster, locking the weapon in place, then started down the aisle toward the rear exit from the car.
Corey followed him.
The railcars were rolling quickly down the hill when the two men stepped through the doorway and onto the narrow ledge at the rear of the car. A slender iron rail offered some protection against falling, but nothing else.
The lieutenant swayed unsteadily as he looked at the passing ground.
Corey reached out and steadied him.
“Sorry, Callaghan,” the lieutenant apologized. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m dizzy all of the sudden, looking down at the moving ground. Hell, I’ve ridden faster than this on horseback.”
“It might be those blows to the head,” Corey suggested. “Why don’t you stand back here while I see about separating these two cars?”
“Do you know how to unhitch them?”
“Not really, but how hard can it be?”
Corey crouched down at the edge of the small platform and grabbed hold of the railing with his right hand. Then he leaned forward to examine the spot where the two cars were joined. Some sort of lever seemed to lock the two cars together. He grabbed hold of the steel piece with his right hand and pulled it toward him. Despite being obviously well lubricated, the metal did not budge.
Corey tried again, flexing truly powerful muscles, which he had honed through years in the ring, but pulling was not the same as punching, and he could not free the cars.
“This isn’t working,” he told the lieutenant, then stood up and reached across the gap between the cars to grab the rail on the other side. He stepped across the gap so that he was standing on the baggage car looking back at Ridgewood. Grabbing hold of the new railing, he kicked at the lever.
“Be careful,” the lieutenant warned. “You don’t want to get stuck over there.”
Corey ignored the officer and kicked the lever again, striking it hard with the heel of his shoe. The lever snapped clear and the two cars immediately came free of each other, a small gap quickly widening between them.
Corey responded instantly. Pulling his foot back up beneath him he leapt back toward the lieutenant and the passenger car. The distance was only a couple of feet and he made it without mishap, latching tightly onto the railing while the lieutenant grabbed him by the shirt and hauled Corey up beside him.
“Careful now, don’t go getting killed before we rescue my men.”
Corey thought he detected a faint smile on the lieutenant’s lips, but he couldn’t be sure. Instead of answering, he grasped a rung on the ladder mounted on the end of the car and quickly clambered up to the roof. There was a stiff wind, and the car bounced on the tracks sufficiently to make Corey careful of his footing. Crouching low, Corey quickly made his way to the front of the car, where he waited for the lieutenant to catch up with him.