"Smith, Wilbur - The Diamond Hunters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith Wilbur)

"My dear chap, what on earth makes you think I know where my sister is?
I haven't seen her for weeks." Johnny turned away and crossed to one of
the paintings on the far wall. The room was hung with good original
South African artists - Alexis Preller, Irma Stem and Tretchikof - an
unusual mixture of techniques and styles, but someone had convinced the
Old Man they were sound investments.

Johnny turned back to face Benedict van der Byl. He studied him as he
had the paintings, comparing him with the clean young athlete he had
been a few years before. A clear mental image in his mind pictured

Benedict moving with leopard grace across the green field of play under
the packed grandstands, turning smoothly beneath the high floating arc
of the ball to gather it neatly, head high, and break back infield to
open the line for the return kick.

"You're getting fat, Laddy Buck, he said softly, and Benedict's anger
stained his cheeks dull red.

"Get out of here," he snapped.

"In a minute - tell me about Tracey first." "I've told you - I

don't know where she is. Whoring it up around Chelsea, I expect."

Johnny felt his own anger surge fiercely, but his voice remained level.

"Where is she getting the money, Benedict?"

"I don't know - the

Old Man-" Johnny cut him short. "The Old Man is keeping her on an
allowance of ten pounds a week. From what I hear she's throwing more
than that around."

"Christ, Johnny," Benedict's tone became conciliatory, "I don't know.
It's not my business. Perhaps Kenny

Hartford is Again Johnny interrupted impatiently. "Kenny Hartford is
giving her nothing. That was part of the divorce agreement when they
split up. Now I want to know who is subsidizing her trip to oblivion.

How about it, big brother?" The?" Benedict was indignant. "You know
there is no love wasted between us." "Must I spell it out?" Johnny
asked. "All right, then. The Old Man is dying - without losing his
horror of all weakness and sin. If Tracey turns into a drug-soaked
little tramp then there's a good chance that our boy Benedict will come
back into full favour. It would be a good gamble on your part to lay out
a few thousand now, to send Tracey to Hell, Cut her off completely from