"Robert A. Heinlein - The unpleasant profession of Johathan Ho" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

exaggerated tiptoe started for the bedroom. She nodded.
"Just a moment, please. There -- that's better. We seem to have had a bad
connection. Now who is it, please?
"Oh...Mr. Hoag. Come up, Mr. Hoag." She punched the button controlling the
electrical outer lock.
He came in bobbing nervously. "I trust this is not an intrusion, but I have been so
upset that I felt I couldn't wait for a report."
She did not invite him to sit down. "I am sorry," she said sweetly, "to have to
disappoint you. Mr. Randall has not yet come home."
"Oh." He seemed pathetically disappointed, so much so that she felt a sudden
sympathy. Then she remembered what her husband had been put through that morning
and froze up again.
"Do you know," he continued, "when he will be home?"
 "That I couldn't say. Wives of detectives, Mr. Hoag, learn not to wait up."
"Yes, I suppose so. Well, I presume I should not impose on you further. But I am
anxious to speak with him."
"I'll tell him so. Was there anything in particular you had to say to him? Some
new data, perhaps?"
"No -- " he said slowly. "No, I suppose...it all seems so silly!"
"What does, Mr. Hoag?"
He searched her face. "I wonder -- Mrs. Randall, do you believe in possession?"
"Possession?"
"Possession of human souls -- by devils."
"I can't say that I've thought much about it," she answered cautiously. She
wondered if Teddy were listening, if he could reach her quickly if she screamed.
Hoag was fumbling strangely at his shirt front; he got a button opened; she
whiffed an acrid, unclean smell, then he was holding out something in his hand,
something fastened by a string around his neck under his shirt.
She forced herself to look at it and with intense relief recognized it for what it was
-- a cluster of fresh cloves of garlic, worn as a necklace. "Why do you wear it?" she
asked.
"It does seem silly, doesn't it?" he admitted. "Giving way to superstition like that -
- but it comforts me. I've had the most frightening feeling of being watched -- "
"Naturally. We've been -- Mr. Randall has been watching you, by your
instructions."
"Not that. A man in a mirror -- " He hesitated.
"A man in a mirror?"
"Your reflection in a mirror watches you, but you expect it; it doesn't worry you.
This is something new, as if someone were trying to get at me, waiting for a chance. Do
you think I'm crazy?" he concluded suddenly.
Her attention was only half on his words, for she had noticed something when he
held out the garlic which had held her attention. His fingertips were ridged and grooved
in whorls and loops and arches like anyone else's -- and they were certainly not coated
with collodion tonight. She decided to get a set of prints for Teddy. "No, I don't think
you're crazy," she said soothingly, "but I think you've let yourself worry too much. You
should relax. Wouldn't you like a drink?"
"I would be grateful for a glass of water."

Water or liquor, it was the glass she was interested in. She excused herself and
went out to the kitchen where she selected a tall glass with smooth, undecorated sides.