"Paul J. McAuley - Inheritance" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mcauley Paul J)

Tolley called, "Did you hear something just then?"
Click. Beaumont looked around. "What was it?"
Tolley's hands were shaking; he couldn't stop them shaking, jammed them
into the pockets of his Burberry. He thought, for a moment only, of a
tape
recorder, a hidden speaker. . . .
He said, "I don't know. Like . . . no, forget it. Maybe we should quit.
It's getting dark."
"There are memorials to your family in the church. Did you see them?
I've
 my flash attachment, I could -- "
Tolley began to walk towards the gate. "No, no, that's OK Let's go,
huh?"
Beaumont fell in beside him. "Are you all right? You look as if you've
had
a shock."
"No, no." I'm not crazy, he thought. I'm not. Suppose this guy is
trying
something on, him and his weird wife. But that's as crazy. He said,
"Maybe
a little jet-lag. I should get back to my hotel, sleep a little."
Tolley looked at the ruins amongst the trees, half-expecting to see a
shadowy figure there. Nothing. Suddenly, urgently, he felt the need to
escape, and in the car startled Gerald Beaumont by popping the clutch
and
spinning the wheels of his Volkswagen as if he were a teenager laying
down
rubber in the drive of his girlfriend's house.

Outside the Beaumonts' cottage, Tolley thanked the man for taking the
photographs, and promised to send him copies.
"I've my own darkroom. I could develop the film now, if you like."
"That's very kind, Mr Beaumont, but I can get it done in town."
"Well, come in anyway, while I unload the camera. Marjory will make you
a
pot of tea. It'll help your jet-lag." Beaumont twisted the key in the
lock
and pushed open the door, saying, "I'll write my address on -- " And
then
he saw the dog scratching at the closed kitchen door at the end of the
hall. "Bill! Bill, what's wrong, boy?"
The dog glanced back and whined, then resumed its patient scratching,
pressing its nose to the joint at the door. Beaumont twisted the handle
and the door gave, but only a little. Beaumont pushed harder, grunting,
and then the door scraped open and both men saw what lay beyond. The
dog
barked and bounded inside to lick his mistress's hand where it lay
outstretched on the floor.

After Marjory Beaumont had been taken from the hospital's Emergency