Ход королевы
Chapter 9
Wheatleyaway,Bethcalledtheassistantandreadhimthelistoftownsandgavehimthename.Hesaidhewouldcallherback.SheorderedaCoca-Colagrandeandmorecoffeefromroomservice.Thensheundressedquicklyandtookashower.Therewasaphoneinthebathroom,butthecalldidnotcomethrough.Shestillfeltnothing.
ShedressedinfreshjeansandawhiteT-shirt.OnthelittletablebythebedwasMrs.Wheatley’spackofChesterfields,empty,crumpledbyMrs.Wheatley’shands.Theashtraybesideitwasfullofbutts.Onecigarette,thelastoneMrs.Wheatleyhadeversmoked,satontheedgeofthelittletray,withalongcoldash.Bethstaredatitaminute;thenshewentintothebathroomanddriedherhair.
TheboywhobroughtthebigbottleofCokeandthecarafeofcoffeewasveryrespectfulandwavedawayherattempttosignthebill.Thetelephonerang.Itwasthemanager.“Ihaveyourcall,”hesaid.“FromDenver.”
Therewasaseriesofclicksinthereceiverandthenamalevoice,surprisinglyloudandclear.“ThisisAllstonWheatley.”
“It’sBeth,Mr.Wheatley.”
Therewasapause.“Beth?”
“Yourdaughter.ElizabethHarmon.”
“You’reinMexico?You’recallingfromMexico?”
“It’saboutMrs.Wheatley.”Shewaslookingatthecigarette,neverreallysmoked,ontheashtray.
“How’sAlma?”thevoicesaid.“Isshetherewithyou?InMexico?”Theinterestsoundedforced.
