The Seventh Scroll - Smith Wilbur (бесплатные полные книги .TXT) 📗

lap, and was bowed over him in an attitude of abandoned grief; the sound

of it bubbled up unchecked from deep inside her. The spaniel's chest had

been crushed between metal and earth. His tongue lolled from the corner

of his mouth in his last smile, but the blood dripped steadily from the

pink tip and Georgina was using her scarf to wipe it away.

Royan sank down beside her mother and placed one arm around her

shoulders. She had never before seen her mother weep. She hugged her

hard and tried by main strength to quell the sound of her sorrow, but it

went on and on. , She never knew how long they sat together like that.

But at last the sight of her mother's maimed leg, and an awakening fear

that the driver of the truck might return to finish the job, roused her.

She crawled up the bank and tottered into the centre of the road to stop

the next car that arrived on the scene.

Not until Royan was two hours late for their meeting did Nicholas become

sufficiently worried to phone the police in York. Fortunately he had

noticed the licence plate of the Land Rover.

It was an easy one for him to remember. The registration number was his

mother's initials combined with an unlucky 13.

There was a delay while the woman constable checked her computer, and

then she came back. "I am sorry to have to tell you, sir, that Land

Rover was involved in an accident this morning."

"What happened to the driver? Nicholas demanded brusquely.

"The driver and one passenger have been taken to the York Minster

Hospital."

"Are they all right?"

"I am sorry, sir. I don't have that information." It took Nicholas forty

minutes to reach the hospital and almost as long again to trace Royan.

She was in the women's surgical ward, sitting beside her mother's bed.

Her mother had not yet come round from the anaesthetic.

She looked up when Nicholas stood over her. "Are you all right? What the

hell happened?"

"My mother - her leg is badly smashed up. The surgeon had to put a pin

in her thigh - the femur.

"How are you?"

"A few bruises and scrapes. Nothing serious., "How did it happen?"

"A truck - it pushed us off the road."

"Not deliberate?" Nicholas felt something inside him quail as he

remembered another truck on another road on another night.

I think so. The driver wore a mask, a balaclava. He crashed into us from

behind. It must have been deliberate."

"Did you tell the police?"

She nodded. "Apparently the truck was reported stolen early this

morning, long before the accident, while the driver was stopped at one

of those Little Chef cafes. He is German. Speaks no English."

"That is the third time they have tried to kill you," Nicholas told her

grimly. "So I am taking over now."

He went out into the hospital waiting room and used the telephone there.

The chief constable of the county was a personal friend, as was the

hospital administrator.

By the time he returned, Georgina had come round from the anaesthetic.

Although still woozy she was comfortable as they wheeled her off to the

private ward that Nicholas, had arranged. The - orthopaedic surgeon

arrived a few minutes later.

"Hello, Nick, what are you doing here?" he greeted Nicholas. Royan was

surprised how many people knew him.

Then he turned his attention to Georgina. "How are you feeling? We have

got ourselves a nice little compound fracture. Looks like confetti in

there. We've managed to put it all together again, but you're going to

be with us for ten days at the very least."

"Right you are, young lady," Nicholas told Royan as they left Georgina

sleeping. "What more do you need to convince you? My housekeeper has

made up a room for you at the Hall. I am not letting you wander around

on your own any more. Otherwise, next time they try to cull you they may

have a little more luck."

She was still too shaken and upset to argue, and she climbed meekly into

the front seat of the Range Rover and let him drive her first to have

her stitches removed and then back to Quenton Park. As soon as they

arrived, he sent her up to her bedroom.

"The cook will send dinner up to you. Make sure you take the sleeping

pill that the doc gave you. Somebody will fetch your gear from 's

cottage to Mrs. Street. In the meantime my housekeeper has set out some

nightclothes and a toothbrush in your room for you. I don't want to hear

from you again before tomorrow morning."

It was good to have him take control of her life. For the first time

since that terrible night at the oasis she felt secure and safe. Still,

she made one last gesture of independence and self-reliance; she flushed

the Mogadon sleeping tablet down the toilet.

The nightdress that was laid on her pillow was full, length sheer silk

with finest Cambrai lace at the cuffs and It. . A robe. She had never

worn anything so luxurious and sensual against her skin before. She

realized that it must have belonged to his wife, and the knowledge

stirred mixed emotions in her. She climbed up into the four-poster bed,

but even that lonely expanse of over'soft mattress and her unfamiliar

surroundings did not keep her too long from sleep.

u the morning a young housemaid woke her with au copy of The Times and a

pot of Earl Grey tea, then returned a few minutes later with her

holdall.

"Sir Nicholas would like you to take breakfast with him in the dining

room at eight-thirty., While she showered Royan inspected her naked body

in the full-length mirror that covered one wall of -the bathroom. Apart

from the knife wound on her -arm, which was still livid and only

partially healed, there was a dark bruise on her thigh and another down

her left flank and buttock, legacies of the car crash. Her shin was

scraped raw, and gingerly she pulled a pair of socks over the injury.

She limped a little as she went down the main staircase to find the

dining room.

"Please help yourself." Nicholas looked up from his newspaper to greet

her as she hesitated in the doorway. He waved at the display of

breakfast dishes on the sideboard.

As she spooned scrambled eggs on to her plate, she recognized the

landscape on the wall in front of her as a Constable.

"Did you sleep well?" He didn't wait for an answer, but went on, "I have

heard from the police. They found the MAN truck abandoned in a lay-by

near Harrogate. They are going over it now but they don't expect to find

much.

We seem to be dealing with someone who knows what he is doing."

"I must phone the hospital," she said.

"I have already done so. Your mother had an easy night. I left a message

that you would visit her this evening."

"This evening?" She looked around sharply. "Why so late?"

"I intend to keep you busy until then. I want to get my money's worth

out of you."

He stood as she came to the table, and drew back her chair to seat her.

She found the courtesy made her feel slightly uncomfortable, but she

made no comment.

"The first attack on you and Duraid at your villa in the oasis - we can

draw no conclusions from that" apart from the fact that the assassins

knew exactly what they were after, and where to look for it." She found