"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 160 - Colors For Murder" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

Doc frowned. “You're wrong there, Sergeant. If I have any effect on them, it's to make them want to
make a fool out of me. Something gets hold of them, and they invariably want to lie to me. It's a fever
they get—” he stopped, because Sergeant Ellis was laughing. “What's so funny about it?”

“You mistaking female nature and cussedness for a fever,” the Sergeant said. “But if you figure this baby
is going to lie to you, what do you want to do?”

“I'm not sure she's going to lie, but let's not encourage her.”

“How do you figure we cannot encourage her?”

“Let's try the plan I outlined to you earlier,” Doc suggested.

“Hmmmm. That's kinda rough. I mean if something should happen to her I wouldn't want . . . Dammit,
what I mean is that this way of doing things is irregular!”

“You'd rather simply lock her up because she's lying, you mean?”

“Sure. It would be a lot simpler.”

“But it wouldn't get the truth out of her, I'm afraid. Suppose you try my system.”

“Will you,” Sergeant Ellis demanded, “take the responsibility?”

“If that's what's worrying you—certainly.”

Most of the worry left the Sergeant's face. “Okay, since it's your monkey,” he said.

RE-ENTERING the office where Della Nelson was waiting, Sergeant Ellis wore what he hoped was a
doubting and puzzled expression. He enhanced this skepticism by clearing his throat.

“I don't understand it!” he declared.

Della Nelson said, “I don't believe I—what do you mean?”

“Will you come with me, Miss Nelson? I'll show you.”

“Of course.”

They moved through the terminal lobby. They were heading for the spot where Della has caused South to
dive face-first into the fence.

Della asked anxiously, “Did you get hold of Doc Savage for me?”

“Mr. Savage isn't in his office.” Sergeant Ellis gave her an intent, sidewise stare. “Miss Nelson, didn't you
say that fellow, the one you said had a sweet face, bled considerably after he collided with the fence?”

Alarmed, Della demanded, “Was he—was he fatally—”
“No-o-o-o,” the Sergeant said judiciously. “He wasn't, but wait, I'll show you.”