"Barker, Clive - Lost Souls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Barker Clive) rampant profiteering-"
"I don't follow." "Tomorrow, turn Axel's Superette into a Temple of Charity, and you may yet put some meat on your soul's bones." She had begun to ascend, Eddie noticed. In the darkness above her, there was sad, sad music, which now wrapped her up in minor chords until she was entirely eclipsed. The girl had gone by the time Harry reached the street. So had the dead dog. At a loss for options, he trudged back to Norma Paine's apartment, more for the company than the satisfaction of telling her she had been wrong. "I'm never wrong," she told him over the din of the five televisions and as many radios that she played perpetually. The cacophony was, she claimed, the only sure way to keep those of the spirit world from incessantly intruding upon her privacy: the babble distressed them. "I saw power in that house on Ridge Street," she told Harry, "sure as shit." Harry was about to argue when an image on one of the screens caught his eye. An outside news broadcast pictured a reporter standing on a sidewalk across the street from a store ("Axel's Superette," the sign read) from "What is it?" Norma demanded. "Looks like a bomb went off," Harry replied, trying to trace the reporter's voice through the din of the various stations. "Turn up the sound," said Norma. "I like a disaster." It was not a bomb that had wrought such destruction, it emerged, but a riot. In the middle of the morning a fight had begun in the packed grocery store; nobody quite knew why. It had rapidly escalated into a bloodbath. A conservative estimate put the death toll at thirty, with twice as many injured. The report, with its talk of a spontaneous eruption of violence, gave fuel to a terrible suspicion in Harry. "Cha'Chat..." he murmured. Despite the noise in the little room, Norma heard him speak. "What makes you so sure?" she said. Harry didn't reply. He was listening to the reporter's recapitulation of the events, hoping to catch the location of Axel's Superette. And there it was. Third Avenue, between Ninety-fourth and Ninety-fifth. |
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