Читать книгу Faerie Tale - Raymond E. Feist - Страница 18

Two men got out of the car as Agatha watched from her porch. Philip stood beside her, observing the pair. The driver was a tall man, his stride quick and purposeful. His hair was black save for streaks of grey at the temples, combed straight back from a high forehead, but his closecut beard was black. His age was indeterminate: somewhere between thirty and fifty. He wore a white turtleneck and brown corduroy jacket, despite the warm weather, above brown slacks. As he came up the steps, smiling in greeting at Agatha, Philip noted his eyes were so dark as to be close to black.

‘Mark, this is Philip Hastings.’

The man shook hands and said, ‘I’ve read your books, Mr Hastings. I’m something of a fan.’

‘Phil, please.’

‘And this is Gary Thieus,’ said Agatha. Philip extended his hand.

‘Call me Gary,’ offered the man with a wide grin that revealed an improbable amount of teeth. His hair was cut very short, nearly a crew cut, and his ears stuck out and were almost pointed.

Mark said, ‘He’s my assistant and is the best cook around – present company excluded.’

‘Come inside and have a drink. Dinner is cooking and we can all get acquainted.’ Agatha allowed Philip to hold open the door as she led the others inside.

Philip followed last, behind Gary. Blackman’s assistant moved with a loose-gaited walk that suggested a basketball player to Philip, or at least some sort of athletic background.

Jack offered drinks to Mark and Gary, while Agatha removed herself to the kitchen to finish dinner. Jack returned to Gabbie’s side; Gloria was smiling at Mark’s comment that he had seen her once in a play. When he commented upon a small problem during the second act, she grinned. ‘You did see the play!’ She reached out and squeezed his hand. ‘In my former calling, you hear a lot of empty flattery.’

‘No, I did see the play and remember your performance quite well.’

Gary said, ‘Jack, how about a game of tennis tomorrow?’

Jack groaned. ‘You mean how about you administering another thrashing?’ He said to Gabbie, ‘He knows I’ve a gimpy leg and delights in embarrassing me.’

‘Do you play?’ Gary inquired of Gabbie.

‘A little,’ the girl answered.

‘Good, I’ll call Ellen and we can play some doubles.’

Gabbie shrugged. Jack said, ‘At least we’ll go down together. Gary’s girlfriend is as good a tennis player as he is – which is very good. I hope you can cover a lot of court.’

Gabbie smiled slightly, and Gloria grinned behind her glass as she sipped her drink. Mark leaned close and said, ‘She plays well?’

‘Gabbie plays tennis like it’s war,’ whispered Gloria.

‘Gary’s pretty good; so is Ellen.’

‘It should be a good match,’ offered Phil, coming over to sit beside his wife.

‘You’ve purchased the Old Kessler Place,’ commented Mark. ‘That’s one of the most interesting pieces of land around here. I tried to rent it myself when I first moved here.’

Gloria and Phil exchanged glances and Phil said, ‘It was just a matter of luck I inquired the week it came on the market. It was a steal at the price. But Kessler died only a month before I called the broker. So you must have tried to rent it from the old man himself.’

‘Not really. When I came to this area, Kessler was in Germany and the house empty for almost a year, but I couldn’t find anyone who could tell me how to reach him. Perhaps he was visiting relatives, or friends of his father. That’s where he died, you know.’

Phil nodded. ‘That was mentioned. Why’d you want to rent the farm?’

Mark smiled. ‘There’s a lot of history about that place.’ He paused, then said, ‘I’m working on a new book myself, and while I’m reluctant to discuss it, let’s say that the history of the Kessler family has no small bearing upon the subject matter. Herman’s father, Fredrick Kessler, was something of a mystery man. He arrived from somewhere in the south of Germany, or perhaps Austria, in 1905, with a lot of money. It appears that when the First World War broke out there was some minor problem with his citizenship, but other than that he was a model member of the community. He married a girl named Helga Dorfmann and had one son. He built a furniture factory, competing with the larger manufacturers over in Jamestown. His furniture was sturdy and cheap, and he made a lot of money. One of the more interesting stories is that he had a fortune in gold buried somewhere on the property.’

Gloria laughed in delight. ‘Buried treasure! Let’s start digging!’

Gary grinned his toothy grin. ‘You’ve a lot of property. It could take some time. Besides, it’s only a story.’

‘My interest,’ commented Blackman, ‘was in the Kessler library and any other oddities lying about, the ephemerides of the days of Fredrick Kessler’s youth, so to speak.’

Gloria glanced at Phil, who said, ‘I’ve only glanced at the books in the library. The broker had no idea what was in the house. When Kessler died, he owed a lot of back taxes, and the state was in a hurry to sell it. The court appointed Kessler’s bank executor. I got the impression things were left a little informal. The loan officer I dealt with was pretty obviously in a rush to unload it; they’d halted the foreclosure and hurried the sale. Anyway, he said there was no family, so he tossed everything into the deal, including old clothes, dishes, the furniture and books. I don’t know a tenth of what’s there. You’re welcome to drop in and borrow anything you’d like.’

‘I was hoping you’d invite me. Perhaps in a few days. I’ll tell you what: if you don’t mind Gary and me prowling about for a while, we’ll catalogue the library as we go, so you’ll have a full inventory when we’re through. And if anything strikes my fancy, give me first chance to buy.’

‘You’ve got it.’

Gloria said, ‘There’s a bunch of old trunks in the attic and basement, too.’

Gary’s eyes almost lit up. ‘Wonderful. Who knows what odd bits of treasure lurk in the dark!’

Gabbie laughed. ‘Jack said the woods are haunted; now buried treasure. You sure know how to pick ’em, Dad.’

Agatha reappeared and demanded assistance, so Jack drafted Gabbie and the two went off to set the table. Gary mentioned a film of Phil’s and the talk turned to stories of Hollywood and the frustrations of filmmaking. Gloria settled back, letting the conversation slip by her. For some reason the talk of buried treasure and haunted woods had made her uncomfortable. And for some unexplained reason she wondered how the boys were.