"Braun, Lilian Jackson - The Cat Who 009 - The Cat Who Went Underground" - читать интересную книгу автора (Braun Lillian Jackson)

Together they watched the craft rocking at the piers: charter fishing boats, small yachts, and tall-masted sailboats. There was plenty of money rolling into Mooseville, he concluded. Soon the natives would get rich and start spending winters in the South. He wondered where the Glinkos would idle away the winter.

Palm Springs? Cancel Bay?

At two o'clock he drove slowly to the cabin, skeptical about Mrs. Glinko's reliability and efficiency. To his relief he found a van parked in the clearing-a rusty, unmarked vehicle with doors flung wide and plumbing gear inside.

The cabin doors were also open, front and back, and warm June air wafted through the building. Little Joe had been smart enough to ventilate the place. Good thinking on his part, Qwilleran had to acknowledge. Why didn't I do that?

The access door on the front of the heater was open, and in front of it a body lay sprawled on the floor. Qwilleran first noticed the muddy field boots, then the threadbare jeans. By tr)e time his eyes reached the faded red plaid shirt, he knew this, was no repairman.

"Hello," he said uncertainly. "Are you the plumber?"

The body rolled over, and a husky young woman with mousy hair stuffed into a feed cap sat up and said soberly, "There was a dead spider in the pilot light.

Whole thing's dirty inside. I'm cleanin" it out. Gotta broom? I made a mess on the floor." This was said without expression in her large, flat face and dull gray eyes.

"You surprised me," Qwilleran said. "I was expecting some fellow named Joe."

"I'm Joanna," she said. "My daddy was Joe, so we were Big Joe and Little Joe."

She lowered her eyes as she spoke.

"Was he a plumber, too?"

"He was more of a carpenter, but he did all kinds of things."

Noticing the past tense, Qwilleran sensed a family tragedy. "What happened, Joanna?" he asked in a sympathetic tone that was part genuine interest and part professional curiosity. He was thinking that a female plumber would make a good subject for the "Qwill Pen."

"My daddy was killed in an accident." She was still sitting on the floor with her eyes cast down.

"I'm sorry to hear that-very sorry. Was it a traffic accident?" She shook her head sadly and said in her somber voice, "A tailgate fell on him-the gate on a dump truck."

"Terrible!" Qwilleran exclaimed. "When did it happen?"

" Coupla months ago."

"You have my sympathy. How old was he?" Joanna appeared to be about twenty-five.

"Forty-three." She turned back to the heater as if wanting to end the painful conversation. She lighted the pilot, closed the door and scrambled to her feet.

"Where's the broom?"

Qwilleran watched her sweep, noting that she was very thorough. Joanna was a strong, healthy-looking young person, but she never smiled.

"Be right back," she said as she carried a small toolkit to her van. When she returned, she mumbled, "That'll be thirty-five."

Assuming that she, like Mrs. Glinka, preferred cash, he gave her some bills from his money clip and accepted a, receipt marked "Paid-Jo Trupp." He thought the charge was high, but he was grateful to have the heater operating.

Next she handed him a yellow slip of paper. "You gotta sign this," she said without looking at him. "It's for Mrs. Glinko."