"c202" - читать интересную книгу автора (Burt Andrew - Noontide Night)

11:40 P.M., Thursday, February 3, 2000
Manukau, New Zealand

Desiree climbed into the driver's seat of their Citroen and Matty into the passenger's. Since the hospital was on the way to Papakura Steel & Brass, and they'd arranged both their shifts to run from midnight to seven, they'd already fallen into the habit of Desiree dropping Matty off and picking her up. Desiree hadn't been able to broach the subject of how to sneak into the hospital. She'd told Matty about the fuel deliveries, hinting how this would help keep Jeremy healthy; and how she missed him so. But Matty hadn't suggested any ideas as far as Desiree getting into the hospital, just how she was glad they'd have fuel, she'd take care of the deliveries, and how insensitive it was of the police to want to cut them off. In a Freudian slip, Desiree had left the blue jumpsuit in the back of the car, afraid to bring it into the flat where Matty would see it. Now Matty had seen it. "What's me jumpsuit doing there? I didn't think I'd left one in the car." Perfect! Desiree thought. She thinks it's hers. Desiree hesitated. It was now or never. She had to do this; for Jeremy. "Well, I was thinking," she began. "What if I put that on. If I went in a different door than you, I could visit Jeremy. They wouldn't know I wasn't you." "They would if you opened your mouth! Not to mention, they check us in and out. They'd spot that and throw a wobbly." Desiree frowned as she looked out the dark window toward the light oncoming traffic. She didn't have the nerve to pursue the plan. "But then, supposing I didn't go in, and you faked laryngitis, they wouldn't know. Robert, the engineer I relieve, is a sweetie. He wouldn't tell. Sir Howard'd throw a wobbly if he found out, but if you meet me outside in the morning like I do, then Sir Howard wouldn't know a thing. It's settled then!" "Oh, but I couldn't do your job! What if that stupid generator broke, or..." This was her other genuine concern. She knew how the raw parts were cast, but didn't know squat about how they worked. "Pah, don't worry about that. The thingos run themselves. We can't do much work anyway. The NS won't buy parts and thinks we're all out to scam them, so they don't authorize hardly any repairs. Besides, you could check out and call me if it's a real emergency. Just tell the guards you're going to 'liberate' some parts. Here, I've got a pass for it." She dug in her pocket for a scrap of paper, which she stuffed into Desiree's pocket. "They won't let us buy parts, but whatever we can get elsewise..." She winked. "Would you really do this for me?" "Should have thought of it before! Only reason I've kept working here is to keep an eye on your nipper anyway. I owe you and Morgan an awful lot." Desiree argued a bit more, but capitulated when she felt assured Matty didn't mind and that she truly would have no actual work to do. Matty volunteered to take her place at PS&B, even looking forward to the change of pace, and it was settled. They parked short of the hospital and Desiree changed into the jumpsuit. Matty then drove her around to the edge of the circle drive. Desiree walked nervously across the macadam toward the side door, the kitchen entrance, where Matty never went in. She smoothed her jumpsuit, steeled her face, marched up to the sentry goon on duty, his AK-47 pointed lazily at her, and presented her forged ID. He scrutinized the badge, poker-faced. Would he suddenly shout for reinforcements? Would she stand paralyzed, or run, and be gunned down like an escaping prisoner? Her heartbeat ticked off the seconds. Then with a smart stamp of his boot he waved her inside. She imagined—or did she?—the smell of freshly popped and buttered popcorn wafting from the kitchen as a pair of other grunts copied her badge information and patted her down. They seemed to enjoy the patting down a little too much. She imagined Matty giving them a "keep your bloody hands to yourself unless you're going to buy me dinner first," but Desiree didn't want to draw attention to herself. It helped to think what Matty would do. Not that Desiree would do the same, but the infuriating groping passed more quickly. And she was in.

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Chapter 20.2

11:40 P.M., Thursday, February 3, 2000
Manukau, New Zealand

Desiree climbed into the driver's seat of their Citroen and Matty into the passenger's. Since the hospital was on the way to Papakura Steel & Brass, and they'd arranged both their shifts to run from midnight to seven, they'd already fallen into the habit of Desiree dropping Matty off and picking her up. Desiree hadn't been able to broach the subject of how to sneak into the hospital. She'd told Matty about the fuel deliveries, hinting how this would help keep Jeremy healthy; and how she missed him so. But Matty hadn't suggested any ideas as far as Desiree getting into the hospital, just how she was glad they'd have fuel, she'd take care of the deliveries, and how insensitive it was of the police to want to cut them off. In a Freudian slip, Desiree had left the blue jumpsuit in the back of the car, afraid to bring it into the flat where Matty would see it. Now Matty had seen it. "What's me jumpsuit doing there? I didn't think I'd left one in the car." Perfect! Desiree thought. She thinks it's hers. Desiree hesitated. It was now or never. She had to do this; for Jeremy. "Well, I was thinking," she began. "What if I put that on. If I went in a different door than you, I could visit Jeremy. They wouldn't know I wasn't you." "They would if you opened your mouth! Not to mention, they check us in and out. They'd spot that and throw a wobbly." Desiree frowned as she looked out the dark window toward the light oncoming traffic. She didn't have the nerve to pursue the plan. "But then, supposing I didn't go in, and you faked laryngitis, they wouldn't know. Robert, the engineer I relieve, is a sweetie. He wouldn't tell. Sir Howard'd throw a wobbly if he found out, but if you meet me outside in the morning like I do, then Sir Howard wouldn't know a thing. It's settled then!" "Oh, but I couldn't do your job! What if that stupid generator broke, or..." This was her other genuine concern. She knew how the raw parts were cast, but didn't know squat about how they worked. "Pah, don't worry about that. The thingos run themselves. We can't do much work anyway. The NS won't buy parts and thinks we're all out to scam them, so they don't authorize hardly any repairs. Besides, you could check out and call me if it's a real emergency. Just tell the guards you're going to 'liberate' some parts. Here, I've got a pass for it." She dug in her pocket for a scrap of paper, which she stuffed into Desiree's pocket. "They won't let us buy parts, but whatever we can get elsewise..." She winked. "Would you really do this for me?" "Should have thought of it before! Only reason I've kept working here is to keep an eye on your nipper anyway. I owe you and Morgan an awful lot." Desiree argued a bit more, but capitulated when she felt assured Matty didn't mind and that she truly would have no actual work to do. Matty volunteered to take her place at PS&B, even looking forward to the change of pace, and it was settled. They parked short of the hospital and Desiree changed into the jumpsuit. Matty then drove her around to the edge of the circle drive. Desiree walked nervously across the macadam toward the side door, the kitchen entrance, where Matty never went in. She smoothed her jumpsuit, steeled her face, marched up to the sentry goon on duty, his AK-47 pointed lazily at her, and presented her forged ID. He scrutinized the badge, poker-faced. Would he suddenly shout for reinforcements? Would she stand paralyzed, or run, and be gunned down like an escaping prisoner? Her heartbeat ticked off the seconds. Then with a smart stamp of his boot he waved her inside. She imagined—or did she?—the smell of freshly popped and buttered popcorn wafting from the kitchen as a pair of other grunts copied her badge information and patted her down. They seemed to enjoy the patting down a little too much. She imagined Matty giving them a "keep your bloody hands to yourself unless you're going to buy me dinner first," but Desiree didn't want to draw attention to herself. It helped to think what Matty would do. Not that Desiree would do the same, but the infuriating groping passed more quickly. And she was in.


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