"Alfred Bester - Demolished Man, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bester Alfred)

"Glad I'm not a peeper, eh? Never mind. I'm not insulted. See that
arch? Go straight through and turn right. You'll find a study. The walls
are lined with Maria's portraits, all in synthetic stones. Help yourself.
She'll never miss one."
The boy leaped up, scattering food. "Thanks, Mr. Reich. Some day I'll
do you a favor."
"Such as?"
"You'd be surprised. I happen to be a---" He caught himself and
blushed. "You'll find out, sir. Thanks again." He began weaving his way
across the floor toward the study.
Four, sir; three, sir; two, sir; one!
Reich returned to his hostess.
"Naughty lover," she said. "Who've you been feeding? I'll tear her
eyes out."
"The Chervil boy," Reich answered. "He asked me where you keep your
pictures."
"Ben! You didn't tell him!"
"Sure did," Reich grinned. "He's on his way to get one now. Then he'll
take off. You know I'm jealous."
She leaped from the couch and sailed toward the study.
"Bam," said Reich.
By eleven o'clock, the ritual of dining had aroused the company to a
point of intensity that required solitude and darkness for release. Maria
Beaumont had never failed her guests, and Reich hoped she would not fail
tonight. She had to play the Sardine game. He knew it when Tate returned
from the study with concise directions for locating the hidden D'Courtney.
"I don't know how you got away with it," Tate whispered. "You're
broadcasting bloodlust on every wavelength of the TP band. He's here.
Alone. No servants. Only two bodyguards provided by Maria. @kins was right.
He's dangerously sick..."
"To hell with that. I'll cure him. Where is he?"
"Go through the west arch. Turn right. Up stairs. Through overpass.
Turn right. Picture Gallery. Door between paintings of the Rape of Lucrece
and the Rape of the Sabine Women..."
"Sounds typical."
"Open the door. Up a flight of steps to an anteroom. Two guards in the
anteroom. D'Courtney's inside. It's the old wedding suite her grandfather
built."
"By God! I'll use that suite again. I'll marry him to murder. And I'll
get away with it, little Gus. Don't think I won't."
The Gilt Corpse began to clamor for attention. Flushed and shining
with perspiration, standing in the glare of a pink light on the dais
between the two fountains, Maria clapped her hands for silence. Her moist
palms beat together, and the echoes roared in Reich's ears: Death. Death.
Death.
"Darlings! Darlings! Darlings!" she cried. "We're going to have so
much fun tonight. We're going to provide our own entertainment." A subdued
groan went up from the guests and a drunken voice shouted: "I'm just one of
the tourists."
Through the laughter, Maria said: "Naughty lovers, don't be