TC01 - The Sixth Commandment by Sanders Lawrence

Author:Sanders, Lawrence [Sanders, Lawrence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller, epub-transfer-done
ISBN: 9781453298404
Publisher: Putnam
Published: 1978-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

The Sixth Day

THE PHONE WOKE ME up the next morning. I have a thing about phones. I claim that when I’m calling someone who isn’t at home, dialing a number that no one will answer, I can tell after the second ring. It has a hollow, empty sound. Also, I think I can judge the mood of anyone who calls me by their ring: angry, loving, good or bad news. Tell me, doctor, do you think I …?

In this case, coming out a deep, dreamless sleep, the ring of the phone sounded desperate, even relayed through the hotel switchboard. I was right. It was Mary Thorndecker, and she had to see me as soon as possible. It couldn’t be at the Coburn Inn. It couldn’t be at Crittenden Hall. It couldn’t be anywhere in public. I figured that left the Carlsbad Caverns, but she insisted on the road that led around the Crittenden grounds, in the rear, past the cemetery. She said eleven o’clock, and I agreed.

I got out of bed feeling remarkably chipper. Un-hungover. You can usually trust vodka for that. After all, it’s just grain alcohol and water. Very few congeners. Drink vodka all your life, and everything will be hunky-dory—except you may end up with a liver that extends from clavicle to patella.

A shower, a shave, a fresh turtleneck—and I was ready for a fight or a frolic. When I went out into the hall, the brass indicator showed the elevator was coming down. I rang the bell, waited, watched Sam Livingston come slowly into view in his cage: feet, ankles, knees, hips, waist, shoulders, head. A revelation. The elevator shuddered to a stop. I stepped in.

“Sam,” I said, “you suckered me.”

He knew immediately what I meant.

“Nah,” he said, with almost a smile, “I just told you he puts on a good show.”

“The guy’s a phonus-balonus,” I said.

“So? He gives the folks what they want.”

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? You got Mary Thorndecker driving you out there. She thinks she’s bringing in another convert, and all the time you’re laughing up your sleeve.”

“Well …” he said solemnly, “it’s better’n TV. Hear you had a little trouble with your car.”

“Good gracious me,” I said, “word does get around. Mike’s is delivering it with new tires, I hope, at noon today. If I’m not here, will you ask them to leave the keys at the desk? No, scratch that. Will you keep the keys for me?”

He explained that he expected to leave by 1:00 P.M., to take care of his cleaning chores at the Episcopal church. He’d keep my car keys until then. If I hadn’t returned by one o’clock, he’d leave the keys on the dresser in my room. I said that would be fine.

We descended slowly past the second floor. In the old Greek plays, the gods must have come down out of heaven in their basket at about our speed.

“Sam,” I said, “you know Fred Aikens? The constable?”

“Seen him around,” he said cautiously.

“What’s your take?”

He didn’t answer.

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