Читать книгу Death in October - Lowell Inc. Green - Страница 15

Despite his determination to stay awake, Grant had fallen into a fitful sleep, which was interrupted after less than two hours by one of Charron’s detectives shaking him violently, and shouting in broken English into his ear. “Madame Gratton, Monsieur Henri. Monsieur Henri, Madame Gratton; they got her okay.”

Grant bolted from the bed.

“What happened? Where is she? Is there any word of Lee? What about Lee? Can I talk with Therese? Does she know where Lee is?

“Unfortunately,” explained Charron calmly, as he entered the room, “the housekeeper knows very little. She was found wandering near the abandoned railway tracks east of Poisson Blanc only about an hour ago. She was pretty badly disoriented, but otherwise unhurt. I’m sorry to say,” sighed Charron, “she seems to know virtually nothing of what happened, either to her or your daughter. According to her...” He checked some notes. “Shortly before ten last night (she remembered that the CBC news was just starting), she responded to the doorbell and stepped outside when no one appeared to be there. Something, a bag or a large cloth or a blanket, was dropped over her head. She remembers a brief instant of a very strong smell but nothing more until awakening sometime this morning lying at the side of the railway tracks.”

He went on to explain that she was in hospital for observation but Inspector Boisvert, who had questioned her for some time, was confident she would be of no assistance in their investigation. She hadn’t seen anyone, nor heard a thing other than the doorbell.

Charron’s recital of events was interrupted by the ring of the phone, which sent a shot of adrenalin rushing up from the pit of Grant’s stomach. The kidnappers? No. Carol just arrived at the airport, a twenty-minute drive south of Ottawa. As reassuringly as he could, Grant explained that Lee still had not been found. “No,” he told her, “the kidnappers have not been heard from and yes, you are welcome to come and stay in the “chateau” for the time being.”

A moment later it was Jake on the phone.

“The chief gave me a twenty-minute lecture about not sticking my nose into someone else’s business and tacked on a two-week suspension,” he told Grant. “Hey don’t worry about it pal, I need the holiday, besides which, in good old public service style, the suspension is with pay. Not too shabby eh? Listen, I’m packing a few things. I’m coming up and I’m moving in. Any objections?” Before Grant had a chance to reply, Jake continued, “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you earlier, but whatever you do, don’t say anything to that little chicken faced bastard. He seems to believe we’ve got something to do with this, which indicates, along with everything else, he’s got the I.Q. of a gerbil. I hope you didn’t tell him about the recording you got.”

“No,” said Grant thoughtfully, “but the little bastard knows I’m holding something back. I don’t think he’s dumb at all.”

“Just ugly,” said Jake.

“No,” said Grant, “ugly and mean.”