Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Mouse in the Mountain by Norbert Davis (most motivational books TXT) 📖
- Author: Norbert Davis
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Book online «The Mouse in the Mountain by Norbert Davis (most motivational books TXT) 📖». Author Norbert Davis
_”Muy malo,_” she said.
“Hurts bad,” the little man translated.
Doan nodded absently. “Yeah. I can see that.”
The fat woman snapped her fingers, and the pudgy man instantly presented her with a pair of blunt surgical scissors. She snipped at Maria’s lank hair.
“Sister,” said the little man, pointing at the man who had brought the water.
“She’s his sister?” Doan inquired.
“No. He.”
“He’s her sister?”
“Si.”
“I don’t get that,” said Doan. “Sister, sister… Assistant! He assists her!”
“Si. Sisted. Also hatband.”
“Hatband,” Doan repeated. “Husband?”
“Si, si!”
Doan nodded at Carstairs. “I’m catching on, kid. I’ll be able to rattle off Spanish in no time at all.”
Carstairs looked skeptical.
The small girl shrieked suddenly:_ “Soldados!“_
Sergeant Obrian was peering around the corner at them. He turned back now and called:
“Captain! I found him! Here he is!”
Captain Perona and Janet came into the lane. There were two soldiers behind them, one carrying a rolled army stretcher on his shoulder.
“Now what is this?” Captain Perona demanded.
“It’s Maria!” Janet exclaimed. “She’s Miss Van Osdel’s maid! Is she—is she—”
“She’s not dead,” Doan said. “From the looks of her eyes, I think her skull is fractured. She got a smaller dose of the same thing Van Osdel did. You’d better run her up and let Ortega look her over.”
Captain Perona nodded to the soldiers. They unrolled the stretcher and lifted Maria on it with the help of Sergeant Obrian and the fat midwife and her assistant.
“Stay here, Sergeant,” Captain Perona said.
The two soldiers carried Maria carefully out of the lane.
Captain Perona was staring at Doan. “Just what did you have to do with this?”
“Not a thing,” said Doan. “I was sitting over there by Van Osdel, waiting for you, when this little kid—Where’d she go? She was here a minute ago. Anyway, she came along and said there was another casualty down here. So I came to see if I could help. Ask Ignatz, here. He was with me all the time.”
_”Es verdad?” _
Captain Perona inquired, looking at the little man.
“Si, Capitan.”
“That rock over there is what hit Maria,” said Doan, pointing to a jagged piece of stone slightly larger than a paving brick. “You’d better save it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m pretty sure it’s the same one that hit Patricia Van Osdel.”
“What?” said Captain Perona, startled.
Doan nodded. “Yeah. There was nothing near the Van Osdel that could have given her the kind of a bat she got. But that rock_ is_ just about the right shape. Of course, I could be wrong, but you’d better check up.”
“State plainly what you mean!” Captain Perona ordered.
“I don’t think either Maria or the Van Osdel was hit by accident. I think they were in that alley where Patricia was found, talking to some third party. When the earthquake let loose, the third party picked up that rock and slammed Patricia with it. Maria ran. The third party chased her and caught her here in this alley and bopped her with the same rock. During the earthquake everyone was yelling and running back and forth like crazy, so no one would pay much attention. Maybe you might find some witnesses, though, if you look.”
“What made you think of all this?”
“Patricia Van Osdel was carrying a purse—a big red patent leather affair about the size of a brief case. It’s gone.”
Captain Perona looked at Janet, and she nodded.
“Miss Van Osdel_ did_ have a purse like that. I noticed it, and it wasn’t in the lane where she was found.”
Captain Perona looked back at Doan. “Have you got any more remarks to make at this time?”
“Well, there was one other thing.”
“What?”
“About Eldridge. His roof fell on him”
Captain Perona breathed in deeply. “I do not suppose he was hurt? I do not suppose he was injured seriously, by any chance?”
“No,” Doan admitted.
“I knew it! He is dead, of course!”
“Yes,” said Doan.
“And what were you doing at the time? Something entirely innocent, I have no doubt!”
“I was just picking myself up from where the earthquake dumped me.”
“How very convenient that earthquake was!” Captain Perona snarled. “You came here to prevent Eldridge from returning to the United States, and now you have succeeded!”
“Well,” said Doan, “if you put it that way—yes.”
“Consider yourself under arrest!”
“Hey, now,” Doan protested mildly. “I didn’t push Eldridge’s roof over on him.”
“Captain,” said Janet, “I’m sure Mr. Doan is telling the truth! You’re making a terrible mistake to—”
Captain Perona turned on her. “Do you wish to be arrested also?”
“No,” said Janet.
“Then be quiet. Sergeant! Take this man to the barracks and keep him there until I investigate.”
“You heard him, pudgy,” said Sergeant Obrian. “On your way. And don’t try any tricks. I don’t carry this bayonet just because it shines so pretty.”
“Can I take Carstairs?” Doan asked. “He usually goes to jail with me.”
“Yes!”
Doan rapped Carstairs on the forehead with his knuckle. “Up-si-daisy, pal. Off to clink, we go.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Doan,” Janet told him.
“Think nothing of it,” Doan said. “We’ll get right out again. We always do.”
“Do not be too confident,” Captain Perona advised dangerously.
DOAN WAS SITTING ON ONE END OF a bench in a very small, very barren room with one narrow window and a rough board floor that was covered with dust which the quake had shaken from the walls and ceiling. Carstairs was sleeping on the rest of the bench. Sergeant Obrian stood just inside the door and watched them both grimly.
Captain Perona and Lieutenant Ortega came in the door.
“Tell us what you learned,” Captain Perona ordered. “Speak in English so he may understand.”
Lieutenant Ortega said: “I examined the body of Senor Eldridge. There was dust and plaster and bits of mortar in his clothes and in his hair. His spine was broken and severed below his waist, and his left arm was fractured, and he had five fractured ribs, one of which penetrated the lung cavity close to his heart. These wounds resulted in his death.”
“Could Doan have given him those wounds?”
Lieutenant Ortega looked at Doan. “Oh, I think not.”
“Look again,” Captain Perona said. “His appearance is very deceptive.”
Lieutenant Ortega shook his head. “There is no evidence of any human agency. I think Senor Eldridge was crushed by the fall of his roof.”
“Sure he was,” said Doan. “Why, I’ve even got a witness who saw me try trying to give Eldridge first aid.”
“Who?” Captain Perona demanded.
“A fellow by the name of Lepicik.”
“I do not know anyone by that name,” said Captain Perona. “Was he a Mexican or a foreigner?”
“Foreigner, I guess.”
Captain Perona looked at Sergeant Obrian inquiringly.
Sergeant Obrian shook his head. “No. There ain’t nobody by that name in this burg—foreigner or otherwise. I checked ‘em all.”
“Well, I saw the guy,” said Doan.
“No,” Captain Perona contradicted flatly. “It is impossible for anyone to come into this district without us knowing him and identifying him. You are lying again.”
“But, please,” said a voice outside the door. “If you will pardon me, I must see the Captain. It is really quite important.”
Sergeant Obrian jumped outside the door and came back in again immediately shoving Lepicik ahead of him. Lepicik smiled and nodded in a mildly apologetic way.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I was informed that I must report my presence in Los Altos to you.”
“What is your name?” Captain Perona demanded.
“I am Leon Lepicik.”
“Ahem,” said Doan.
Captain Perona bowed ironically. “I apologize. You were not lying—again. Senor Lepicik, how did you come to Los Altos?”
“I came from Santa Lucia.”
“He’s screwy,” said Sergeant Obrian. “That’s a gutbuster of a hike. No old droop like this could make it.”
“Nevertheless,” said Lepicik, “you will observe that I am here.”
“Who guided you?” asked Captain Perona.
“A man by the name of Adolfo Morales and a burro named Carmencita. They—or at least Adolfo—are now in the process of getting drunk at the Dos Hermanos, if you wish to verify my story.”
“We do wish to,” said Captain Perona. “And we will. Are you a North American?”
“No, sir.”
“Let me see your passport.”
Lepicik produced a worn leather folder, and Captain Perona examined it carefully.
“Albanian, eh?” he said, looking up.
Lepicik nodded. “Yes. But you will note that the passport was issued before the Italian invasion and also bears the stamp of the Albanian government-in-exile.”
“Hmmm,” said Captain Perona, handing back the passport. “Have you ever seen this man?”
“Yes,” said Lepicik. “Once.”
“Where?”
“In the patio in back of a house on the Avenida Revolution.”
“What was he doing?”
“Attempting to help a man who was fatally injured in the earthquake.”
Doan had been holding his breath, and he let it out now in a long, gentle sigh.
“How do you know the man was injured in the earthquake?” Captain Perona asked.
“I saw it happen. I saw the roof of his house fall on him.”
“How could you see that? The patio is enclosed by a high wall.”
“The earthquake demolished the wall, and besides I was up on the hill above and in back of the house.”
“What were you doing up there?”
Lepicik smiled at him. “Exploring. I find that a very interesting and educational pastime.”
“Why did you come to Los Altos?”
“To explore.”
“I see,” said Captain Perona coldly. “Doan, you are released—for the moment. Go to the Hacienda Nueva Inglesa and register—and stay there. Senor Lepicik, you accompany him and do the same.”
“I have already registered,” said Lepicik, “and met the other charming members of the tourist party.”
“Doan,” said Captain Perona, “before you leave I wish to tell you certain things we know about your recent actions. You are employed by an agency called the Severn International Detectives, which has headquarters in New York. The agency was employed by a certain group of politicians in a certain state to send you to Mexico to bribe Senor Eldridge to stay here and to stop bothering them. You were given ten thousand dollars for that purpose, but you did not bring the ten thousand dollars to Mexico.”
“Didn’t I?” Doan asked.
“No. Instead you deposited it in the Commercial Trust Bank in Chicago under the name of D.L. Carstairs.”
“It’s a fund for his college education,” said Doan, indicating Carstairs.
“I find your humor nauseating,” Captain Perona told him shortly. “You never had any intention of paying that money to Eldridge. You embezzled it.”
“Shame on me,” said Doan. “I guess these certain politicians will sue me or put me in jail or something, then, won’t they?”
Captain Perona scowled at him in silence.
“What is it?” Lieutenant Ortega asked. “I do not understand.”
Captain Perona said: “He knows the politicians do not dare prosecute him because then they would have to explain why they gave him the money which would result in just the scandal they are trying to avoid.”
“Hey!” Sergeant Obrian exclaimed. “You mean that pudgy gets to keep the ten grand? And then they try to tell you that crime don’t pay!”
“Did you speak?” Captain Perona inquired.
“No, sir,” said Sergeant Obrian.
Captain Perona pointed to Carstairs, to Doan, and to Lepicik. “Get out. All of you.”
Doan nudged Carstairs with his elbow. “Come on, chum. We beat the rap.”
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