"Braun, Lilian Jackson - The Cat Who 004 - The Cat Who Saw Red" - читать интересную книгу автора (Braun Lillian Jackson)

УHowТd you get the cat down?Ф

УWe walked away and left him there, and soon he came sauntering into the examination room, hopped on the table, and yawned.Ф

УScore another one for Koko,Ф said Riker. УWhat was the female doing all this time?Ф

УYum Yum was sitting in the traveling box waiting her turn.Ф

УAnd probably laughing like hell,Ф said Bunsen.

УSo thatТs the story,Ф Qwilleran summed up. УAnd thatТs why IТm on this miserable diet.Ф

УYouТll never stick with it.Ф

УOh, yes I will! I even bought a bathroom scale with some of my prize money, an antique from a country doctorТs office in Ohio.Ф

Qwilleran had won $1,000 in a Daily Fluxion writing contest, and the entire staff was waiting to see how the frugal bachelor would spend it.

УWhat did you do with the rest of the dough?Ф Riker asked with gentle sarcasm. УSend it to your ex-wife?Ф

УI sent Miriam a couple of hundred, thatТs all.Ф

УYou chump!Ф

УSheТs sick.Ф

УAnd your in-laws are rich,Ф Arch reminded him. УYou should be buying a car for yourself, or some furniture so you can get a decent place to live.Ф

УThereТs nothing wrong with my apartment in Junktown.Ф

УI mean you should get married again, start buying a house in the suburbs, settle down.Ф

Qwilleran cringed at the suggestion. After lunch, when the three men walked back to the office, he continued to cringe inwardly, for several reasons. In the first place, he loathed cottage cheese. Also, Riker had been goading him gently throughout the lunch hour, and Qwilleran had let him get away with it because they were old friends. The third reason for his discomfort was a summons from the managing editor to attend an afternoon meeting. An invitation from the boss was usually bad news, and the man himself riled Qwilleran; he had a synthetic camaraderie that he turned on and off to suit his purpose at the moment.

Qwilleran reported to the front office at the appointed time, accompanied by Riker, his immediate superior.

УCome in, Arch. Come in, Qwill,Ф said the editor, in the syrupy voice he reserved for certain occasions. УDid you fellows have a good lunch? I saw you at the club living it up.Ф

Qwilleran grunted.

The boss motioned them to seats and settled into his high-backed executive chair, beaming with magnanimity. УQwill, weТve got a new assignment for you,Ф he said, Уand I think youТre going to like it.Ф

QwilleranТs face remained impassive. He would believe it when he heard the details.

УQwill, everyone seems to think youТre the champion trencherman on the staff, and that fact per se qualifies you for a job weТre creating. In addition, we know you can give us the meaty writing weТre constantly striving for on this paper. WeТre assigning you, my friend, to the new gourmet beat.Ф

УWhatТs that all about?Ф The question came out gruffly.

УWe want you to write a regular column on the enjoyment of good food and wine. We want you to dine at all the outstanding restaurants, on an expense account, of course. The fluxion will pay expenses for two. You can take a guest.Ф The editor paused and waited for some expression of joy.