Hotel / Отель. Артур Хейли

to give him another room, and I imagine we could get a nurse without too much trouble.”

      Peter nodded agreement. There was a house telephone across the hallway. He went to it and asked for Reception.

      “I'm on the fourteenth,” he informed the room clerk who answered. “Is there a vacant room on this floor?”

      There was a pause. The night room clerk was an old-timer, appointed many years ago by Warren Trent.

      “Well,” Peter said, “is there a room or isn't there?”

      “I have 1410,” the clerk said, “but I'm about to give it to a gentleman who has this moment checked in.” He added, “We are very close to a full house.”

      Number 1410 was a room Peter remembered. It was large and airy and faced St. Charles Avenue. He asked reasonably, “If I take 1410, can you find something else for your man?”

      “No, Mr. McDermott. All I have is a small suite on five, and the gentleman does not wish to pay a higher rate.”

      Peter said, “Let your man have the suite at the room rate for tonight. He can be relocated in the morning. Meanwhile I'll use 1410 for a transfer from 1439, and please send a boy up with the key right away. And another thing: before you go off duty leave word for the day clerks that tomorrow I want an explanation of why Mr. Wells was shifted from his original room to 1439.”

      He winked at Christine as he replaced the phone.

4

      “You must have been insane,” the Duchess of Croydon said. “Absolutely insane.” She had returned to the living-room of the Presidential Suite after Peter McDermott's departure, carefully closing the door behind her.

      The Duke shifted uncomfortably as he always did under one of his wife's periodic tongue lashings[27]. “Damn sorry, old girl. Telly was on. Couldn't hear the fellow. Thought he'd cleared out.” He took a deep draught from the whiskey and soda, then added, “Besides, with everything else I'm bloody upset.”

      “Sorry! Upset! You make it sound as if it's all some sort of game.” The Duchess went on accusingly, “I was doing the best I could. The very best, after your incredible folly, to establish that both of us spent a quiet evening in the hotel. I even invented a walk that we went for in case anyone saw us come in. And then stupidly you blunder in to announce you left your cigarettes in the car.”

      “Only one heard me. That manager chap. Wouldn't notice.”

      “He noticed. I was watching his face.” With an effort the Duchess kept her self-control. “Have you any notion of the awful mess we're in?”

      The Duke drained his drink. “If you hadn't persuaded me… Bloody ashamed too.”

      “You were drunk! You were drunk when I found you, and you still are.”

      He shook his head as if to clear it. “Sober now.”

      “There was nothing we could do. Nothing! And there was a better chance my way.”

      “Not so sure. “If the police get their teeth in…”

      “We'd have to be suspected first. That's why I made that trouble with the waiter. It isn't an alibi but it's the next best thing. It's set in their minds we were here tonight… or would have been if you hadn't thrown it all away. I could weep.”

      “Be interesting that[28],” the Duke said. “Didn't think you were enough of a woman.”

      The Duke went to a side table where he splashed Scotch generously into his glass, followed by soda. With his back turned, he added, “Why'd you marry me?”

      “I suppose it was mostly that you stood out in our circle as someone who was doing something worth while.”

      He held up his glass, studying it like a crystal ball. “Not proving it now. Eh?”[29]

      “If you appear to be, it's because I prop you up.” “Washington?” The word was a question.

      “We could manage it,” the Duchess said. “If I could keep you sober and in your own bed.”

      “Aha!” Her husband laughed. “A damn cold bed at that.” “I already said that isn't necessary.”

      “Ever wondered why I married you?”

      “I've formed opinions.”

      “Tell you most important.” He drank again, as if for courage, then said, “Wanted you in that bed. Fast. Legally. Knew was only way.”

      “I'm surprised you bothered. With so many others to choose from – before and since.”

      His bloodshot eyes were on her face. “Didn't want others. Wanted you. Still do.”

      She snapped, “That's enough! This has gone far enough.”[30]

      He shook his head. “Something you should hear. Your pride, old girl. Always appealed to me. You on your back. Passionate. Trembling.”

      “Stop it! Stop it! You… you lecher!” Her face was white. “I don't care if the police catch you! I hope they do! I hope you get ten years!”

5

      After his dispute with Reception, Peter McDermott went down the fourteenth floor corridor to 1439.

      “If you approve,” he informed Dr. Uxbridge, “we'll transfer your patient to another room on this floor.”

      The doctor glanced around the tiny room with its mess of heating and water pipes. “Any change can only be an improvement.”

      As the doctor returned to the little man in the bed, Christine reminded Peter, “What we need now is a nurse.”

      “We'll let Dr. Aarons arrange that. Do you think your friend Wells is good for it?” They had returned to the corridor, their voices low.

      “I'm worried about that. I don't think he has much money.” When she was concentrating, Peter noticed, Christine's nose had a charming way of crinkling. He was aware of her closeness and a faint perfume.

      When the key arrived, Christine went ahead to open the new room, 1410. “It's ready,” she announced, returning.

      “The best thing is to switch beds,” Peter told the others. “Let's wheel this one into 1410 and bring back a bed from there.” But the doorway, they discovered, was an inch too narrow.

      “Never mind,” Peter said. “There's a quicker way – if you agree, Mr. Wells.”

      The other smiled, and nodded.

      Peter bent down, put a blanket around the elderly man's shoulders and picked him up.

      “You've strong arms, son,” the little man said.

      Peter smiled. Then, as easily as if his burden were a child, he strode down the corridor and into the new room.

      Fifteen minutes later all was functioning well. The resident physician[31], Dr. Aarons, had arrived. He accepted the offer of Dr. Uxbridge to drop in as a consultant the following day. A private duty nurse, telephoned by Dr. Aarons, was on the way.

      As the chief engineer and Dr. Uxbridge left, Albert Wells was sleeping gently.

      It was a quarter to twelve.

      Walking toward the elevators, Christine said, “I'm glad we let him stay.”

      Peter seemed surprised. “Mr. Wells? Why wouldn't we?”

      “Some places wouldn't. You know how they are: the least thing out of the ordinary, and no one can be bothered. All they want is people to check in, check out, and pay the bill; that's all.”

      “Those are sausage factories. A real hotel is for hospitality; and assistance if a guest needs it. The best ones started that way. Unfortunately too many people in this business have forgotten.”

      She

27

упрёки

28

Было бы интересно посмотреть

29

Больше не оправдываю надежд, да?

30

Ты далеко зашёл.

31

штатный врач