"Thompson, Jim - Recoil" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thompson Jim)

He introduced himself as Henry, and made a polite but reserved mention of the fact that he was Willie's brother. He was in and out of the room in five minutes, including the time it took to remove the silver covers from the dishes, fill my cup with coffee, and prop a morning paper against the pot.
I slipped into my clothes and sat down at the table.
Doc's cook, apparently, was as topnotch as his other servants. There were tiny hot biscuits; sectioned grapefruit packed in shaved ice; oatmeal cooked so that each flake was separate from the others; and a golden and puffy bacon omelet that was almost light enough to float.
Doc had me drive his sedan into town. I was a little reluctant to try it but he insisted, and it was easy enough after I got used to the steering-wheel gear shift.
I hadn't been in Capital City since my senior year in high school. At that time it had been a big sprawling town with a great many parks, clean wide streets, and modest, comfortable appearing homes. Now the streets were jammed and dirty; two and sometimes three shacks stood on a lot once occupied by a single neat cottage; and the parks were islands of oil well derricks, surrounded by barbed-wire fences. There were fine homes, certainly; some of them occupying an entire block with their wide, well-kept lawns. But they pointed up, rather than detracted from, the general picture of decay and squalor.
I put the car on a parking lot Doc directed me to, and we sat there several minutes while he turned through the paper. At last he folded it carelessly, tossed it into the back seat and took out his wallet.
"Here's forty dollars, Pat. It'll give you something to rattle until payday."
"I--"
"I know. You're grateful. And you hope to show your appreciation. And if I see an opportunity for you to do so, for this or any other favor, past or impending, I'll let you know. Anything else?"
"I was going to thank you," I said, "but I guess I'd better not."
"You just have. Now let's see about some clothes."
We crossed the street and walked up to the corner where he led me to the entrance of a store.
A tall gray-haired man in a black coat and striped pants strolled out to us.
"Ah, Doctor," he said. "I hope we're to be allowed to serve you in some way?"
Doc shook hands with him indifferently. "I think I'll let you take care of my friend," he said. "This is Mr. Cosgrove, Williams."
"It will be a pleasure," Williams beamed, giving my hand a tender shake. He didn't seem to notice my clothes.
"Mr. Cosgrove has been ill for a long time," Doc went on. "He'll need a complete outfitting, but we have an appointment within the hour. Can you fix him up in something casual immediately, and get his measurements for a couple of suits and whatever he needs in the way of accessories? Send it out to the house later."
"Certainly," said Williams. "We'll be very prompt with Mr. Cosgrove. Now, if I may show you inside . . ."
Doc hesitated a moment, studying a tweed sports coat. He half turned and started to enter the store, then he glanced across the street. He stiffened.
"I won't be able to go in," he said quickly. "Meet me at the car when you're through, Pat. Williams, I'm putting Mr. Cosgrove in your hands."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"He'll use my account."
"Of course, Doctor. If you please, Mr. Cosgrove."
Doc swung off across the street, moving in quick angry strides. I let Williams lead me into the store.
The next thirty minutes were like a comedy. Shoes were being slid on and off my feet while my shoulders were draped and undraped with coats. I tried on trousers while hats were being placed on my head. A swarm of frock-coated salesmen moved around me with coats, pants, ties and shirts, hats and shoes. And Williams said "Quite," and "Exactly," and "I'm afraid not."
Then they were all gone except Williams and a clerk, who was fitting a linen handkerchief into my breast pocket while Williams turned me toward a three-view mirror.
"I don't see how you did it," I said, at last. And it is hard to say who felt the better about it, they or I.
Williams escorted me to the entrance and we shook hands again. I crossed the street to the parking lot.
It had filled up considerably by this time, and there were cars on both sides of Doc's. I didn't know there was anyone with him until I was almost behind the sedan. Then, the door slammed and I heard the other man curse.
"You're being a fool!" he said. "You'll spoil everything with your damned jealousy!"
"Don't give me cause to be jealous, then," Doc snarled. "She's my wife. You'd better remember that."
"I've told you it was simply business!"
"Business or not--"
"To hell with you! Try pulling something and see how far you get!"
The man came bounding out of the lane between the two cars, head down, blind with rage. I bumped into him, bringing my heel down on his instep. When he doubled, I let him have a touch of elbow across the windpipe.
I had to grab him then to keep him from keeling over.

5
He was a handsome, forty-ish sort; dark, keen-eyed, bold looking. I could see why Mrs. Luther might like him. I felt an instinctive, almost unwilling liking for him myself. I'd given him a jolt, but after one murderous glance he was trying to grin.
Doc got out and helped hold him up, and he looked at me as though he wasn't too well-pleased.
"Are you all right, Bill?" he said. "Can I do something?"
The man shook his head. "Just--just give me a second. I'll come out of it."
"You shouldn't have done that, Pat," said Doc. "It was entirely unnecessary."
"I'm sorry," I said. "It was an accident."
"Well, it might have been very serious. From what I saw--"
"Oh, stop bawling him out!" The man straightened up, and spoke in a normal tone. "Pat thought you were in trouble and tried to help you. Now cut out the scolding and introduce me."
"Of course," said Doc. "Mr. Hardesty, Pat Cosgrove. Mr. Hardesty is an attorney, Pat. He was instrumental in obtaining your release from Sandstone."
_Another one, I thought. How many, how much, why . . . ?_
"And I was glad to have the chance!" Hardesty wrung my hand. "They gave you a mighty raw deal, son. I'm glad to see you came through it so well."
"Thank you very much," I said.