Homicide Hoax

Начало книги

Ralph Smith lifted his pale face from his palms as Chaplain M’Canless cleared his throat. He stirred on his hard cot, looking at the chaplain with blurred eyes. He swallowed the hard, startled knot out of his throat, wondering how long the skypilot had been standing in his cell.

“How do you feel, Ralph?” The chaplain’s robes made rustling noises softly as he came forward.

Smith’s rat face worked. “Not so good,” he said.

Chaplain M’Canless sat down beside him, laid his hand on the prison grey shirt that covered Smith’s quaking body. In three hours now Ralph Smith would die. For murder.

“I thought a prayer might help.”

The words of the chaplain brought the hint of a sneer to Smith’s hardened face. Then Ralph Smith heard the ticking of his watch. Like the beat of a heavy hammer on anvil, the steady march of throbbing time reminded him that in one hundred and eighty minutes the life would be jerked from him by high voltage electricity.

Читать дальше →