"Bowes-ShadowAndGunman" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bowes Richard)

Stacey smiled. "Can I ask a big favor?" Anything! She must have seen that. "This
is a no-parking area. Could you find a place for it? Oh, do you drive?"

I shook my head, ashamed to let her down. She turned off the motor. "Then can I
ask you an even bigger favor?" Any plan imaginable could be canceled. "Wait here
and if the cops come by, turn on the motor and pretend you're going to pull
out." She tossed me the keys and went into the building, saying, "I'll buy you
lunch. It will be a chance to talk."

Conscious of the immense trust, I sat vigilant in that front seat. Once or
twice, I turned on the ignition and ran the motor, looking front and rear for
the police car that never showed.

Later that day, in some town like Needham, we stopped at a drive-in and sat in
the car nibbling hamburgers. Neither of us had much appetite. We giggled about
that, then each took out a green pill and washed it down with the last of our
Cokes. "How did you end up seeing Dr. Petrie?"

Wanting to make an impression, I told her, "Playing with guns. That made them
think I'm suicidal."

She looked at me, nodded and said, "Yes, they would."

That afternoon we drove out into the country. The leaves were changing. We
parked on a road overlooking a gold and red valley and she told me, "I have to
see a shrink to fulfill a probation requirement. There was a little party at
school, kind of an orgy actually, and I ran amok. You know how it is." Only able
to dimly imagine, I nodded.

"Kleinman at least understands it's all a game. He gives me prescriptions,
collects his fees and doesn't interfere." She laughed. "The only trouble I have
with speed is that once in a while, out of the corner of my eyes, I see this
snake dart."

Emboldened, I told her, "Sometimes, just for a second, I see this Shadow beside
me. He has my face."

She stopped laughing. "There's someone you might want to talk to. He's called
Dr. X. I'll mention you to him." She started the car. "It's getting late. Where
do you live?"

In Dorchester, neighborhoods went by the names of Catholic parishes. Mine was
Mary, Queen of Heaven. "Queena Heaven. You can drop me at any MTA station."

"And miss seeing a place called Queena Heaven? Just give me directions." It was
dusk as we arrived. Stacey glanced at Snyder's Market and the Stop and Shop, the
bars, the Shamut Bank and the elevated station. We drove up the steep hill past
the brick gothic church.