"Asprin, Robert - Catwoman 02 - Tiger Hunt (txt)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Asprin Robert)

knowledge that something large and dark had been there and was now gone.
That, however, was enough.
He was working the area and he was reason enough to scratch her plans, to
head instead for shelter and stay there.
He was Batman.
Catwoman didn't fear the Dark Knight the way most criminals did. She
wore a costume herself and was not impressed by his mask, his cape, or
mystique. She'd eluded him before---even bested him---but he was a man
obsessed with narrow definitions of right and wrong and it didn't pay to
cross his bows---even when she needed money and had found the perfect
people from whom to take it.
The lookout and the rest of the gang were safe---at least from her. But
Batman's presence cast a strong, lingering spell across the jagged roofs. It
prodded the lookout, who leaned forward, studying the roof where nothing
untoward could be seen. His hand groped along the wall, seeking the rifle.
He turned around. He looked up---
Damn!
He went for the handgun partially concealed in his pocket. The cards had been dealt; the hand had to be played.
Catwoman launched herself downward. Her hands locked around his
neck. Her knees struck his chest. For a split second they were motionless,
with him flat against the wall and her weight balanced against his
collarbones. Then there was a snap, scarcely audible in the relentless music.
Self-defense. Catwoman sprang away, landing on the balls of her feet. The
lookout sank slowly to the floor, his head slumped to the side.
The motto on his T-shirt proclaimed "I'm too BA-AD to grow old."
Catwoman emptied his pockets and popped the heavy gold chain from his
neck. He wasn't carrying enough to cover the rent, and once his unconscious
body was discovered, this gang would blame another gang and the whole
neighborhood would go into vengeace frenzy. He wouldn't remember after
being knocked out. If Selina didn't get her money tonight, she could forget
about getting it from anywhere around here for at least a week.
Damn.
She leaned out of the window. There were no brooding silhouettes
hunched along the rooflines. Maybe he was gone. He wasn't necessarily
hunting her prey. Heaven knew there was enough crime around here to
satisfy them both. And she needed the money. Catwoman made a fist but
stopped an inch short of smashing the flickering light with it.
A hand-held videotape player---trust the gangs to have the newest technotoys.
Trust their taste in videos to be slasher-porn.
Catwoman plucked the earphone cord from its socket and was astonished
by the strength of the internal speaker: the woman's desperate screams made
the unit vibrate in her hand. There were knobs and buttons all over the unit.
She pressed and twirled and was about ready to heave the thing into the
night when the flickering blacked out and the screaming finally stopped.
Maybe she'd keep it. She stared at it, wondering if she'd ever use it,
wondering what she could get for it. Catwoman couldn't waltz into a
pawnshop with an ugly gold chain and a techno-toy, but Selina could.
Added to the gold and the wad of cash she'd taken from the lookout's
pockets, there might be enough---if Selina bargained hard. But if she
bargained hard, the fence would remember her, and neither Catwoman nor