Коллекционер
Chapter 3
Iwentstraighttothestreetwherethedoctorlivedandstoppedabitshortofhishouse.Iwasjustsittingthereinthedarkgettingreadytogoandringthebell,gettingmystorystraightandsoon,whentherewasatappingonthewindow.Itwasapoliceman.
Itwasaverynastyshock.Iloweredthewindow.
Justwonderedwhatyouweredoinghere,hesaid.
Don’ttellmeit’snoparking.
Dependswhatyourbusinessis,hesaid.Hehadalookatmylicence,andwrotedownmynumber,verydeliberate.Hewasanoldman,hecan’thavebeenanygoodorhewouldn’thavebeenaconstablestill.
Well,hesaid,doyoulivehere?
No,Isaid.
Iknowyoudon’t,hesaid.That’swhyI’maskingwhatyou’redoinghere.
Ihaven’tdoneanything,Isaid.Lookintheback,Isaid,andhedid,theoldfool.Anyhowitgavemetimetothinkupastory.ItoldhimIcouldn’tsleepandIwasdrivingaroundandthenIgotlostandIhadstoppedtolookatamap.Well,hedidn’tbelievemeorhedidn’tlookasifhedid,hesaidIshouldgetonhome.
WelltheresultofitallwasthatIdroveaway,Icouldn’tgetoutwithhimwatchingandgotothedoctor’sdoor,he’dhavesmeltaratatonce.WhatIthoughtIwoulddowasdrivehomeandseeifshewasworseandifshewasI’ddriveherintothehospitalandgiveafalsenameandthendriveawayandthenI’dhavetorunawayandleavethecountryorsomething—Icouldn’tthinkbeyondgivingherup.
