One Bright Summer Morning
- Автор: Чейз Джеймс Хэдли
- Год: 1963
- Язык: английский
- Год: Robert Hale
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «One Bright Summer Morning». Краткое содержание книги:
“I haven’t the answer,” Van Wylie said and sat down in a basket chair opposite Vic’s. “I can give you the money, but I still don’t know what I’m buying.”
Vic made an impatient movement. He didn’t say anything.
After a pause, Van Wylie said, “You have seen my daughter? She’s all right?”
“Yes, I’ve seen her, and as far as I know right now she is all right.”
“Tell me about these people who have kidnapped her. How many are there?”
“My business with you is to persuade you to give me the ransom money,” Vic said. “I have been warned to give you no information. All you have to do is to decide whether you are paying up or whether you are going to leave your daughter in the hands of these people. That’s all.”
Van Wylie stared at him, his hard eyes probing, then he nodded and got to his feet.
“Wait here. I’ll fix it.”
He walked quickly across the patio and into the study where Andrews was waiting.
Van Wylie issued his orders and Andrews got busy on the telephone. He spoke to the manager of the California and Merchant Bank. The manager, sounding a little startled, said he would have the certified cheques ready in an hour.
“This guy isn’t one of them,” Van Wylie said as Andrews replaced the receiver. “They are using him as their stooge... smart. He has a wife and baby. They’ve moved into his house with Zelda. He has to collect the money. If there is a slip up, they’ll take it out of his family.”
“I’ve seen him before,” Andrews said. “I’m trying to remember who he is... someone: a personality. I think he’s to do with the theatre.”
Van Wylie sat on the edge of the desk. His small hard eyes were bleak as he looked at Andrews.
“They’ve knocked him around. Did you see the bruise on his face? These punks aren’t made of custard.” He leaned forward. “Where have you seen him before?”
“I don’t know,” Andrews said. “But I’m sure I have seen him. He’s someone who’s been in the news.”
“That helps a lot, doesn’t it?” Van Wylie said, a snarl in his voice. “You think! I want to know who he is!”
Andrews walked over to the window and stared out.
Where had he seen this man before? Why did he connect him with the theatre? Was he an actor? He was still standing there, digging into his memory when Van Wylie with a snort of impatience went back to where Vic was waiting.
Moe was like a flea on a hot stove. He couldn’t relax: he couldn’t concentrate: all he could think about was his mother. What was happening to her? he kept asking himself. Was she any better? Was she dying? From time to time, he looked longingly at the telephone, longing to pick up the receiver and call the hospital, but he knew such a call could spell disaster. If by chance Van Wylie had alerted the Feds and they traced the call to Wastelands, his chance of gaining a quarter of a million dollars would go up in gun-smoke.
But he had to know!
Zelda and Carrie were together with the baby in the bedroom. He could hear them talking. The Cranes were lolling in the sun, drinking Cokes and looking through the comics Riff had found in the ranch house. The setup seemed peaceful enough. Moe struggled with the temptation. He knew he would be going against Kramer’s orders, but he had to get to a telephone where he could talk to the hospital and find out how his mother was. He just couldn’t go on waiting and hoping. He had to know!
The nearest call booth was at Boston Creek, a twenty-mile drive. If he drove fast, he could go and return in just, over the hour. What could happen in that time? Sweating, nervous and anxious, he got to his feet. He had to go!
The Cranes looked up as Moe came out of the ranch house and headed towards them.
As Moe reached them, he said. “I’ve a little business to fix. I’ll be right back. You two stick around. There’s to be no trouble. Just see the two girls remain right where they are.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Sure,” Riff said and grinned. “We’ll be here when you get back. We have no place to go.”
Moe stared suspiciously at him.
“You stay right here,” he said. “I’m not having any trouble.”
“Who’s talking about trouble?” Riff said, stretching his powerful frame lazily. “Me... I’m enjoying myself. You shove off. We can take care of everything.”
Moe, suddenly uneasy as he saw the sneering expression in Riff’s eyes, hesitated, but when the Cranes picked up their comics and seemed to forget him, he turned and walked to the garage. He got into the car he had come in, gunned the engine and drove down the dusty drive to the highway.
As his car disappeared in a cloud of dust, Riff dropped his comic, stretched elaborately and then got to his feet. Chita looked at him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, her eyes suspicious
“Belt up!” Riff snarled. “I’m going to stretch my legs. What’s it to you where I go?”
“Skip it, Riff! Sit down! I know what you’re planning to do! You cut it out! We’re in this racket for ten thousand dollars! You’re not going to foul it up!”
Riff grinned at her. “You dope! Can’t you see it’s fouled up already? I’m going to get me a little fun. You stick here. I won’t tell you twice.”
“Leave the girl alone!” Chita said, but she didn’t move. Her brother’s vicious expression warned her that if she stood up, he would hit her.
“Screw you!” Riff said and hitching up his leather trousers, he swaggered towards the ranch house.
If there was one thing Zelda disliked more than another, it was babies. To her, babies were noisy at one end and wet at the other. To her, they were revolting little animals who always attracted more attention than she ever received, even though she was the third richest girl in the world. Bring a baby on the scene and everyone seemed to forget about her. She hated babies!
She sat sulkily in an armchair and watched Carrie change Junior’s nappy. Her nose wrinkled with disgust. Babies! But to be in Vic Dermott’s house gave her a tremendous thrill. She had seen every one of his plays. She thought it was frantically romantic that Dermott of all people should be the man to collect her ransom. Vic Dermott! What an endless source of conversation she would have when she finally returned home!
She liked Carrie. It was a pity such an attractive girl should be so obsessed with this fat, dreary baby. She wanted to relax and talk to Carrie about clothes. She was sure Carrie could help her. She had so little confidence in herself in choosing the right things to wear. If only Carrie would quit fussing over this fat little horror, put him away somewhere and concentrate on her, Zelda would be happy.
With relief, she watched Carrie put the baby back in his cot and arrange the small toys hanging above the cot to keep him amused.
“Well, he’s fixed for the moment,” Carrie said. “Now I guess I’d better straighten this room or maybe you’ll do it while I see what there’s for lunch.”
Zelda stared at her as if she couldn’t believe what had been said.
“I do it? I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, someone’s got to keep the place going,” Carrie said patiently. “I’m willing to do the cooking. I thought you might straighten the bedrooms. Those two out there aren’t likely to do anything.”
“I’m not doing anything either!” Zelda said angrily. “I’m not a servant! In a day or so, my father will pay the ransom and I’ll return home. What happens here doesn’t concern me in the slightest!”
Carrie regarded her thoughtfully.
“Well, of course, if that’s how you feel about it,” she said, “then I’ll do it. I suppose you want to eat?”
“Of course I want to eat!”
The two girls stared at each other, then Carrie shrugged.