Blackmail
Arthur Hailey
糯米饭做法The chief hou officer, Ogilvie, who had declared he would appear at the Croydons suite an hour after his cryptic telephone call actually took twice that time. As a result the nerves of both the Duke and Duchess were excessively frayed when the muted buzzer of the outer door eventually sounded.
The Duchess went to the door herlf. Earlier she had dispatched her maid on an invented errand and, cruelly, instructed the moon-faced male cretary – who was terrified of dogs – to exerci the Bedlington terriers. Her own tension was not lesned by the knowledge that both might return at any moment.
A wave of cigar smoke accompanied Ogilvie in. When he had followed her to the living room, the Duchess looked pointedly at the half-burned cigar in the fat man’s mouth. “My husband and I find strong smoke offensive. Would you kindly put that out."
The hou detective's piggy eyes surveyed her sardonically from his gross jowled face. His gaze moved on to sweep the spacious, well-appointed room, encompassing the Duke who faced them uncertainly, his back to a window.
"Pretty neat t-up you folks got.” Taking his time, Ogilvie removed the offending cigar, knocked off the ash and flipped the butt toward an ornamental fireplace on his right. He misd, and the butt fell upon the carpet where he ignored it.
The Duchess's lips tightened. She said sharply, imagine you did not come here to discuss décor ".
The obe body shook in an appreciative chuckle . "No, ma'am, can't say I did. I like nice things, though." He lowered the level of his incongruous faltto voice." Like that car of yours. The one you keep here in the hotel. Jaguar, ain't it?"
"Aah!" It was not a spoken word, but an emission of breath from the Duke of Croydon. His wife shot him a swift, warning glance.
"In what conceivable way does our car concern you?”
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As if the question from the Duchess had been a signal, the hou detective's manner changed. He inquired abruptly, "Who el is in this place?"
It was the Duke who answered, "No one. We nt them out."
"There's things it pays to check." Moving with surprising speed, the fat man walked around the suite, opening doors and inspecting the space behind them. Obviously he knew the room arrangement well. After reopening and closing the outer door, he returned, apparently satisfied, to the living room.
The Duchess had ated herlf in a straight-backed Ogilvie remained standing.
香露"Now then," he said. "You two was in the hit-'n-run ."
She met his eyes directly." What are you talking about?"
"Don't play games, lady. This is for real." He took out a fresh cigar and bit off the end, "You saw the papers. There's been plenty on radio, too."
Two high points of color appeared in the paleness of the Duchess of Croydon's cheeks. "What you are suggesting is the most disgusting, "制茶过程
"I told you – Cut it out!” The words spat forth with sudden savagery , all preten of blandness gone. Ignoring the Duke, Ogilvie waved the unlighted cigar under his adversary 's adversary 's no. "You listen to me, your high-an'-mightiness. This city's burnin' mad – cops, mayor, everybody el. When they find who done that last night, who killed that kid an' its mother, then high-tailed it, they'll throw the book, and never mind who it hits, or whether they got fancy titles neither. Now I know what I know, and if I do what by rights I should, there'll be a squad of cops in here so fast you'll hardly e 'em. But I come to you first, in fairness, so's you could tell your side of it to me." The piggy eyes blinked, then hardened. " 'f you want it the other way, just say so."斑马斑马吉他
领养星星的孩子The Duchess of Croydon – three centuries and a half of inbred arrogance behind her – did not yield easily. Springing to her feet, her face wrathful, gray-green eyes blazing, she faced the grossness of the hou detective squarely. Her tone would have withered anyone who knew her well. “You unspeakable blackguard! How dare you!”
Even the lf-assurance of Ogilvie flickered for an instant. But it was the Duke of Croydon who interjected, "It's no go, old girl. I'm afraid. It was a good try." Facing Ogilvie, he said, "What you accu us of is true. I am to blame. I was driving the car and killed the little girl."
"That's more like it," Ogilvie said. He lit the fresh cigar. "Now we're getting somewhere."
Wearily, in a gesture of surrender, the Duchess of Croydon sank back into her chair. Clasping her hands to conceal their trembling, she asked. "What is it you know?"
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