Читаем A Dangerous Fortune (1994) полностью

He knew he should keep it there for several minutes, to be sure the old man really was dead this time; but he was worried about the nurse. She might notice the silence. He had to speak, for a pretense of normality. But he could not think what to say to a dead man. Say anything, he told himself, it doesn't matter so long as she hears the murmur of conversation. "I'm pretty well," he mumbled desperately. "Pretty well, pretty well. And how are you? Well, well. I'm glad to hear you're feeling better. Splendid, Mr. Pilaster. I'm very glad to see you looking so well, so splendid, so much better, oh dear God I can't keep this up, very well, splendid, splendid ..."

He could stand it no longer. He took his weight off the pillow. Grimacing with distaste, he put his hand on Seth's chest where he imagined the heart would be. There were sparse white hairs on the old man's pale skin. The body was warm beneath the nightshirt, but there was no heartbeat. Are you really dead this time? he thought. And then he seemed to hear Papa's voice, angry and impatient, saying Yes, you fool, he's dead, now get out of there! Leaving the pillow over the face, he rolled off the corpse and stood up.

A wave of nausea engulfed him. He felt weak and faint, and he grabbed the bedpost to steady himself. I killed him, he thought. I killed him.

There was a voice on the landing.

Micky looked at the body on the bed. The pillow was still over Seth's face. He snatched it up. Seth's dead eyes were open and staring.

The door opened.

Augusta walked in.

She stood in the doorway, looking at the rumpled bed, the still face of Seth with its staring eyes, and the pillow in Micky's hands. The blood drained from her cheeks.

Micky stared at her, silent and helpless, waiting for her to speak.

She stood there, looking from Seth to Micky and back again, for a long moment.

Then, slowly and quietly, she closed the door.

She took the pillow from Micky. She lifted Seth's lifeless head and replaced the pillow, then she straightened the sheets. She picked up The Economist from the floor, placed it on his chest, and folded his hands over it, so that he looked as if he had fallen asleep reading it.

Then she closed his eyes.

She came to Micky. "You're shaking," she said. She took his face in her hands and kissed his mouth.