Мэри Кларк - Молчаливая ночь [with w_cat]

• Название: Молчаливая ночь [with w_cat]
• Автор: Мэри Кларк
• Жанр: Детектив

Вниманию читателей предлагается книга Кларк Мэри "Молчаливая ночь".

Каждый абзац текста, на английском языке, снабжен ссылкой на литературный перевод.

Книга предназначена для учащихся старший классов школ, лицеев и гимназий, а также для широкого круга лиц, интересующихся английской литературой и совершенствующих свою языковую подготовку.

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Повесть «Молчаливая ночь» — небольшая не только по объему, но и по времени действия. Основные события умещаются на семи часовом отрезке в канун Рождества, но накал страстей столь острый, что книга прочитывается на едином дыхании. Ординарные люди, ощутившие чужую беду, как собственную, пытаются сделать все от них зависящее, чтобы вернуть в семью потерявшегося мальчика по имени Брайан.

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[57] For an instant, Brian hesitated as he glanced over his shoulder at his mother. Should he run back and get her? But he thought again about the medal that would make his father better; it was in the wallet, and he couldn’t let it get stolen.

[58] The woman was already turning the corner. He raced to catch up with her.

[59] Why did I pick it up? Cally thought frantically as she rushed east on Forty-eighth Street toward Madison Avenue. She had abandoned her plan of walking down Fifth Avenue to find the peddler with the dolls. Instead, she headed toward the Lexington Avenue subway. She knew it would be quicker to go up to Fifty-first Street for the train, but the wallet felt like a hot brick in her pocket, and it seemed to her that everywhere she turned everyone was looking at her accusingly. Grand Central Station would be mobbed. She would get the train there. It was a safer place to go.

[60] A squad car passed her as she turned right and crossed the street. Despite the cold, she had begun to perspire.

[61] It probably belonged to that woman with the little boys. It was on the ground next to her. In her mind, Cally replayed the moment when she had taken in the slim young woman in the rose-colored all-weather coat that she could see was fur-lined from the turned-back sleeves. The coat obviously was expensive, as were the woman’s shoulder bag and boots; the dark hair that came to the collar of her coat was shiny. She didn’t look like she could have a care in the world.

[62] Cally had thought, I wish I looked like that. She’s about my age and my size and we have almost the same color hair. Well, maybe by next year I can afford pretty clothes for Gigi and me.

[63] Then she’d turned her head to catch a glimpse of the Saks windows. So I didn’t see her drop the wallet, she thought. But as she passed the woman, she’d felt her foot kick something and she’d looked down and seen it lying there.

[64] Why didn’t I just ask if it was hers? Cally agonized. But in that instant, she’d remembered how years ago, Grandma had come home one day, embarrassed and upset. She’d found a wallet on the street and opened it and saw the name and address of the owner. She’d walked three blocks to return it even though by then her arthritis was so bad that every step hurt.

[65] The woman who owned it had looked through it and said that a twenty-dollar bill was missing.

[66] Grandma had been so upset. “She practically accused me of being a thief.”

[67] That memory had flooded Cally the minute she touched the wallet. Suppose it did belong to the lady in the rose coat and she thought Cally had picked her pocket or taken money out of it? Suppose a policeman was called? They’d find out she was on probation. They wouldn’t believe her any more than they’d believed her when she lent Jimmy money and her car because he’d told her if he didn’t get out of town right away, a guy in another street gang was going to kill him.

[68] Oh God, why didn’t I just leave the wallet there? she thought. She considered tossing it in the nearest mailbox. She couldn’t risk that. There were too many undercover cops around midtown during the holidays. Suppose one of them saw her and asked what she was doing? No, she’d get home right away. Aika, who minded Gigi along with her own grandchildren after the day-care center closed, would be bringing her home. It was getting late.

[69] I’ll put the wallet in an envelope addressed to whoever’s name is in it and drop it in the mailbox later, Cally decided. That’s all I can do.

[70] Cally reached Grand Central Station. As she had hoped, it was mobbed with people rushing in all directions to trains and subways, hurrying home for Christmas. She shouldered her way across the main terminal, finally making it down the steps to the entrance to the Lexington Avenue subway.

[71] As she dropped a token in the slot and hurried for the express train to Fourteenth Street, she was unaware of the small boy who had slipped under a turnstile and was dogging her footsteps.

2

[72] “God rest you merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay …” The familiar words seemed to taunt Catherine, reminding her of the forces that threatened the happily complacent life she had assumed would be hers forever. Her husband was in the hospital with leukemia. His enlarged spleen had been removed this morning as a precaution against it rupturing, and while it was too early to tell for sure, he seemed to be doing well. Still, she could not escape the fear that he was not going to live, and the thought of life without him was almost paralyzing.

[73] Why didn’t I realize Tom was getting sick? she agonized. She remembered how only two weeks ago, when she’d asked him to take groceries from the car, he’d reached into the trunk for the heaviest bag, hesitated, then winced as he picked it up.

[74] She’d laughed at him. “Play golf yesterday. Act like an old man today. Some athlete.”

[75] “Where’s Brian?” Michael asked as he returned from dropping the dollar in the singer’s basket.

[76] Startled from her thoughts, Catherine looked down at her son. “Brian?” she said blankly. “He’s right here.” She glanced down at her side, and then her eyes scanned the area. “He had a dollar. Didn’t he go with you to give it to the singer?”

[77] “No,” Michael said gruffly. “He probably kept it instead. He’s a dork.”

[78] “Stop it,” Catherine said. She looked around, suddenly alarmed. “Brian,” she called “Brian.” The carol was over, the crowd dispersing. Where was Brian? He wouldn’t just walk away, surely. “Brian,” she called out again, this time loudly, alarm clear in her voice.

[79] A few people turned and looked at her curiously. “A little boy,” she said, becoming frightened. “He’s wearing a dark blue ski jacket and a red cap. Did anyone see where he went?”

[80] She watched as heads shook, as eyes looked around, wanting to help. A woman pointed behind them to the lines of people waiting to see the Saks windows. “Maybe he went there?” she said in a heavy accent.

[81] “How about the tree? Would he have crossed the street to get up close to it?” another woman suggested.

[82] “Maybe the cathedral,” someone volunteered.

[83] “No. No, Brian wouldn’t do that. We’re going to visit his father. Brian can’t wait to see him.” As she said the words, Catherine knew that something was terribly wrong. She felt the tears that now came so easily rising behind her eyes. She fumbled in her bag for a handkerchief and realized something was missing: the familiar bulk of her wallet.

[84] “Oh my God,” she said. “My wallet’s gone.”

[85] “Mom!” And now Michael lost the surly look that had become his way of disguising the worry about his father. He was suddenly a scared ten-year-old. “Mom. Do you think Brian was kidnapped?”

[86] “How could he be? Nobody could just drag him off. That’s impossible.” Catherine felt her legs were turning to rubber. “Call the police,” she cried. “My little boy is missing.”

[87] The station was crowded. Hundreds of people were rushing in every direction. There were Christmas decorations all over the place. It was noisy, too. Sound of all kinds echoed through the big space, bouncing off the ceiling high above him. A man with his arm full of packages bumped a sharp elbow into Brian’s ear. “Sorry, kid.”

[88] He was having trouble keeping up with the woman who had his mom’s wallet. He kept losing sight of her. He struggled to get around a family with a couple of kids who were blocking his way. He got past them, but bumped into a lady who glared down at him. “Be careful,” she snapped.

[89] “I’m sorry,” Brian said politely, looking up at her. In that second he almost lost the woman he was following, catching up to-her again as she went down a staircase and hurried through a long corridor that led to a subway station. When she went through a turnstile, he slipped under the next one and followed her onto a train.

[90] The car was so crowded he could hardly get in. The woman was standing, hanging on to a bar that ran over the seats along the side. Brian stood near her, his hand gripping a pole. They went only one long stop, then she pushed her way to the opening doors. So many people were in Brian’s way that he almost didn’t get out of the subway car in time, and then he had to hurry to catch up with her. He chased after her as she went up the stairs to another train.

[91] This time the car wasn’t as crowded, and Brian stood near an old lady who reminded him of his grandmother. The woman in the dark raincoat got off at the second stop and he followed her, his eyes fixed on her ponytail as she practically ran up the stairs to the street.

[92] They emerged on a busy corner. Buses raced past in both directions, rushing to get across the wide street before the light turned red. Brian glanced behind him. As far as he could see down the block there were nothing but apartment houses. Light streamed from hundreds of windows.

[93] The lady with the wallet stood waiting for the light to turn. The WALK sign flashed on, and he followed his quarry across the street. When she reached the other side she turned left and walked quickly down the now sloping sidewalk. As he followed her, Brian took a quick look at the street sign. When they visited last summer, his mother had made a game of teaching him about street signs in New York. “Gran lives on Eighty-seventh Street,” she had said. “We’re on Fiftieth. How many blocks away is her apartment?” This sign said Fourteenth Street. He had to remember that, he told himself, as he fell in step behind the woman with his mom’s wallet.

[94] He felt snowflakes on his face. It was getting windy, and the cold stung his cheeks. He wished a cop would come along so he could ask for help, but he didn’t see one anywhere. He knew what he was going to do anyway-he would follow the lady to where she lived. He still had the dollar his mother had given him for the man who was playing the violin. He would get change and call his grandmother, and she’d send a cop who would get his mom’s wallet back.

[95] It’s a good plan, he thought to himself. In fact, he was sure of it. He had to get the wallet, and the medal that was inside. He thought of how after Mom had said that the medal wouldn’t do any good, Gran had put it in her hand and said, Please give it to Tom and have faith.

[96] The look on his grandmother’s face had been so calm and so sure that Brian knew she was right. Once he got the medal back and they gave it to his dad, he would get well. Brian knew it.

[97] The woman with the ponytail started to walk faster. He chased after her as she crossed one street and went to the end of another block. Then she turned right.

[98] The street they were on now wasn’t bright with decorated store windows like the one they had just left. Some places were boarded up and there was a lot of writing on the buildings and some of the streetlights were broken. A guy with a beard was sitting on the curb, clutching a bottle. He stretched out his hand to Brian as he passed him.

[99] For the first time, Brian felt scared, but he kept his eyes on the woman. The snow was falling faster now, and the sidewalk was getting slippery. He stumbled once, but managed not to fall. He was out of breath trying to keep up with the lady. How far was she going? he wondered. Four blocks later he had his answer. She stepped into the entranceway to an old building, stuck her key in the lock, and went inside. Brian raced to catch the door before it closed behind her, but he was too late. The door was locked.

[100] Brian didn’t know what to do next, but then through the glass he saw a man coming toward him. As the man opened the door and hurried past him, Brian managed to grab it and to duck inside before it closed again.

[101] The hall was dark and dirty, and the smell of stale food hung in the air. Ahead of him he could hear footsteps going up the stairs. Gulping to swallow his fear, and trying to not make noise, Brian slowly began to climb to the first landing. He would see where the lady went; then he would get out of there and find a telephone. Maybe instead of calling Gran, he would dial 911, he thought.

[102] His mom had taught him that that was what he should do when he really needed help.

Which so far he didn’t.

[103] “All right, Mrs. Dornan. Describe your son to me,” the police officer said soothingly.

[104] “He’s seven and small for his age,” Catherine said. She could hear the shrillness in her voice. They were sitting in a squad car, parked in front of Saks, near the spot where the violinist had been playing.

[105] She felt Michael’s hand clutch hers reassuringly.

[106] “What color hair?” the officer asked.

[107] Michael answered, “Like mine. Kind of reddish. His eyes are blue. He’s got freckles and one of his front teeth is missing. He has the same kind of pants I’m wearing, and his jacket is like mine ’cept it’s blue and mine is green. He’s skinny.”

[108] The policeman looked approvingly at Michael. “You’re a real help, son. Now, ma’am, you say your wallet is missing? Do you think you might have dropped it, or did anyone brush against you? I mean, could it have been a pickpocket?”

[109] “I don’t know,” Catherine said. “I don’t care about the wallet. But when I gave the boys money for the violinist, I probably didn’t push it down far enough in my purse. It was quite bulky and might have just fallen out.”

[110] “Your son wouldn’t have picked it up and decided to go shopping?”

[111] “No, no, no,” Catherine said with a flash of anger, shaking her head emphatically. “Please don’t waste time even considering that.”

[112] “Where do you live, ma’am? What I mean is, do you want to call anyone?” The policeman looked at the rings on Catherine’s left hand. “Your husband?”

[113] “My husband is in Sloan-Kettering hospital. He’s very ill. He’ll be wondering where we are. In fact, we should be with him soon. He’s expecting us.” Catherine put her hand on the door of the squad car. “I can’t just sit here. I’ve got to look for Brian.”

[114] “Mrs. Dornan, I’m going to get Brian’s description out right now. In three minutes every cop in Manhattan is going to be on the lookout for him. You know, he may have just wandered away and gotten confused. It happens. Do you come downtown often?”

[115] “We used to live in New York, but we live in Nebraska now,” Michael told him. “We visit my grandmother every summer. She lives on Eighty-seventh Street. We came back last week because my dad has leukemia and he needed an operation. He went to medical school with the doctor who operated on him.”

[116] Manuel Ortiz had been a policeman only a year, but already he had come in contact with grief and despair many times. He saw both in the eyes of this young woman. She had a husband who was very sick, now a missing kid. It was obvious to him that she could easily go into shock.

[117] “Dad’s gonna know something’s wrong,” Michael said, worried. “Mom, shouldn’t you go see him?”

[118] “Mrs. Dornan, how about leaving Michael with us? We’ll stay here in case Brian tries to make his way back. We’ll have all our guys looking for him. We’ll fan out and use bullhorns to get him to contact us in case he’s wandering around in the neighborhood somewhere. I’ll get another car to take you up to the hospital and wait for you.”