Sam Bourne – Sam Bourne 4-Book Thriller Collection (страница 7)

Will leaned forward.

‘Right there and then, he marched off to what I guessed was his own room in that . . . place. He unlocked it and, straight away, he starts stripping the bed.’

‘Stripping the bed?’

‘Uh-huh. I was scared at first, I didn’t know what he was about to do to me. He put these blankets in a pile, and then he gets to work on his bedside table. Starts packing it up. Starts unplugging his CD player, takes off his watch. It all goes in this big pile. And then he begins moving all this stuff, shooing me out of the way. Now this bed is one of those really good ones, big with a deep, strong mattress, like a top-of-the-range bed. So it’s heavy but he’s dragging it and lugging it, till it’s outside. And then he opens up his truck, a real beat-up old thing, and he loads up the bed – pillows and all – into the back. Then all the rest of it. I swear, I had no idea what in God’s name the man was doing. Then he winds down the window and tells me to meet him just around the block, on the corner of Fulton Street. ‘See you there in five,’ he says.

‘Well, now I’m mystified. So I walk round the block, just like the man said. And I see his truck, parked outside a pawn shop. And there’s Howard Macrae pointing at all the stuff, and men are coming out the shop and unloading it, and the boss is handing Macrae cash. And next thing I know, Macrae is giving the money to me.’

‘To you?’

‘Uh-huh. You got it. To me. It was the strangest thing. I wondered why he didn’t just give me some cash, if that’s what he wanted to do, but no, he insists on making this big sacrifice, like he’s selling all his worldly goods or something. And I’ll never forgot what he said to me as he did it. “Here’s some money. Now go bail your husband – and don’t become a whore.” And I listened to what the man said. I bailed my husband and I never did sell my body, not ever. Thanks to that man.’

There was a sound at the front door. Will looked around. He could hear several voices drifting through: three or four young children and a man.

‘Hiya, honey.’

‘Will, this is my husband, Martin. And these are my girls, Davinia and Brandi, and this is my boy – Howard.’ Letitia gave Will a firm stare, silencing him. ‘Martin, this man is from the newspaper. I’m just seeing him out.’

As they reached the front door, Will whispered, ‘Your husband doesn’t know?’

‘No, and I don’t plan on telling him now. No man should know such a thing about his wife.’

Will was about to say he believed the opposite, that most men would be honoured to know their wives were prepared to make such an extreme sacrifice, but he thought better of it.

‘And yet his son is called Howard.’

‘I told him it was because I always liked the name. But I know the real reason, and that’s good enough. Howard is a name my boy can wear with pride. I’m telling you, Mr Monroe: the man they killed last night may have sinned every day of his God-given life – but he was the most righteous man I have ever known.’

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