"Shadow - 341201 - Back Pages - Grace Culver - Double Chocolate" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brown Roswell)

had driven her mad. It couldn't be Tim.
"Tim! Tim!"
As Grace screamed the word, she saw Jorgen whirlЧMal leap away from the
doorЧRocco tense for a springЧand PeteЧ
Whipping into action as sudden as the stupor which had frozen her, the
redhead caught up the carton in which half the soda still remained.
Into Pete's granite face she hurled the container with all her strength. The
liquid, bursting from the open end of the tube, struck him with an audible slap.
He fell backward, sputtering, digging raw knuckles into his eyes.
She was around the stand in no time. Out of his still clawing fingers she
wrenched the snub-nosed automatic. His fist closedЧtoo lateЧover air.
Crash!
The shot had not been fired inside the cellar, but it was so close at hand that
the walls echoed with it. The door shivered.
Crash!
Into the quivering instant which followed the second explosion, the small
sound of metal striking stone intruded. Tim had blasted the lock loose from its
moorings. The door slammed in.
Jorgen was waiting for it. His gun was trained on the opening. His finger was
tensing with deadly precision.
"Look out, Tim!"
And as she screamed the warning, Grace's own arm snapped up. Pete's
automatic, steady in her hand, belched a thin line of hot fire. Ivan Jorgen,
screaming while he caught at his gun arm, budded and fell to his knees.
Tim Noonan was over the threshold nowЧfamiliar face set in a grim mask,
gun barking from his fist as he came.
Rocco, to Grace's left, had caught up a light chair and swung it high above his
head. Through the air the bulky thing hurtled viciously. Tim ducked.
As wood splintered against stone, the veteran detective's gun snapped up once
more. Its ugly snarl spat out on a tongue of flame. Rocco cried out once Чin
infantile terror.
The slug had ripped between his pig-like little eyes. Blood poured in a fountain
down his shapeless face. His throat contracted. Onto the stone floor he
crashed, his huge body sprawling.
Mal was leaping on Tim from the rear, nowЧscreaming with rage. He held a
wicked knife in his raised hand.
But before he could reach the seasoned ex-inspector, interference from a
new source intervened. A lithe young body hurtled from the dark passageway and
caught him with such force that both figures tottered. The knife dropped.
"Good work, Jerry!"
The cry of triumph was still on Grace's lips when she saw Jorgen whipping
up his gun once moreЧin his left hand, this time. She swung to stop him,
automatic ready. But Tim was ahead of her.
"Drop that gun, louse!"
There were two muzzles fixed on him. The game was up, and Jorgen knew it.
His gun clattered to the floor. His arms lifted slowly. There was a sullen light
of surrender in the eyes beneath those matted brows.
"All right, CulverЧline 'em up. No funny business, crooks. We've got some
boys in a car outside that are gonna take you to an art school you never been in
before. Free scholarships for all of you!"