"Kenneth Robeson - Doc Savage 173 - Once Over Lightly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

until now.

The other object in the metal box was an envelope, and I put a hand in the way of Glacia's hand when
she reached for it. “It's still not too late to start using your head,” I said.

“Damn you, Mote,” she said. And then she asked bitterly, “What would you suggest?” I thought she was
going to take a swing at me, and I know she was considering it. “If it's another lecture about going to the
police, you can just chew it up and swallow it again. I haven't done anything the police can arrest me for.”
The police were out, I could see that. Glacia didn't want any part of them.

“The alternative,” I said, “might be to break loose and tell old Mote all. I can't say I'm anxious to be the
collection-plate for your troubles. But it might help.”

“Help what? Your curiosity?”

She had something there. “Help me decide whether I'm heading for jail by associating with you,” I said.

Glacia got angry again. She called me an impossible wench, and a damned fine travesty of a friend. It
didn't mean too much the way she said it, I decided. She was putting on and taking off her
emotions—rage, sentiment, fear, hesitation, decision—the nervous way a man about to be married
probably tries different neckties.

“What went wrong with you?” she demanded. “Where did you go right after the body was found? You
went somewhere, and something happened to jolt you. What was it?”

All right, you asked for it. I thought.

“I went to ask Doc Savage to investigate the mysterious murder of your Uncle Waldo,” I said, and
waited for that to sink in and take effect.

She fooled me. She didn't show surprise, or not much of it. She even seemed interested. And she was
alert enough to guess what had happened.

“He turned you down,” she said.

“That's right, and with trimmings,” I agreed. “It wasn't just that I got turned down, either. It was being
exposed to their curiosity and then tossed aside that burns me. They opened me like a box, looked in,
didn't care for any, and pushed me out.”

Glacia's lips were parted a little, as if she was all set to blow out a candle. Her way of showing breathless
wonder. “What was he like?” she gasped.

“Eh?”

“Doc Savage . . . what was he like? Did you really get to talk with him, Mote? He must be a wonderful
person.

“That big bronze chew!” I said. “I didn't see anything so wonderful about him.”

Glacia began to look as if I was putting verbal toads in the conversation. “Your trouble is, you're not