"Cook, Glen - Garrett 04 - Old Tin Sorrows" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Glen)

"I doubt it. You don't seem intimidated by me."
"I'm not." I wasn't. I'd met too many guys who really were intimidating. I had calluses on that organ.
"You would have been ten years ago."
"Different circumstances."
"Indeed. Good. I need a man who won't be intimidated. Especially by me. Because I fear that if you do your job right, you may uncover truths I won't want to face. Truths so brutal I may tell you to back off. You won't do that?"
He had me baffled. "I'm confused."
"The normal state of the world, Mr. Garrett. I mean, when I hire you, if I hire you, if you agree to take this job, your commitment will be to follow it through to the end. Disregarding anything I tell you later. I'll see that you're paid up front so you aren't tempted to bend in order to collect your fee."
"I still don't get it."
"I pride myself on my ability to meet the truth head-on. In this case I want to arrange it so I have no choice, however much I squirm and ache. Can you understand that?"
"Yes." Only in the most literal sense. I didn't understand why. We all spend a lot of time fooling ourselves, and his class were masters at thatЧthough he'd always had a reputation for having both feet firmly planted in reality. He'd disobeyed or refused orders more than once because they had originated in wishful thinking by superiors who hadn't come within five hundred miles of the fighting. Each time events had saved him embarrassment by proving him right.
He didn't have a lot of friends.
"Before I make any commitment, I have to know what I'm supposed to do."
"There is a thief in my house, Mr. Garrett."
He stopped because of some kind of spasm. I thought he was having a heart attack. I jumped up and headed for the door.
"Wait," he croaked. "It will pass."
I paused midway between my chair and the door, saw the spasm fade. In a moment he was back to normal. I perched myself on my chair again.
"A thief in my house. Yet there is no one here I haven't known for thirty years, no one I haven't trusted with my life many times."
That had to be a weird feeling, knowing you could trust guys with your life but not with your things.
I got a glimmer of why he needed an outsider. A bad apple amongst old comrades. They might cover up, refuse to see the truth, or . . . Who knows? Marines don't think like people.
"I follow. Go ahead."
"My infirmity came upon me soon after I returned home. It's a progressive consumption, apparently. But slow. I seldom get out of my quarters now. But I've noticed, this past year, that some things, some of which have been in the family for centuries, have disappeared. Never large, flashy things that would be obvious to any eye. Just trinkets, sometimes more valuable as mementoes than intrinsically. Yet the sum should add to a fair amount by now."
"I see." I glanced at the fire. It was time to turn me over so I wouldn't be underdone on one side.
"Bear with me a few minutes more, Mr. Garrett."
"Yes sir. Any strangers in the house recently? Any regular visitors?"
"A handful. People off the Hill. Not the sort who would pilfer."
I didn't say so but in my thinking the worst of all criminals come off the Hill. Our nobility would steal the coppers off dead men's eyes. But the General had a point. They wouldn't steal with their own hands. They'd have somebody do it for them.
"You have an inventory of what's missing?"
"Would that be useful?"
"Maybe. Somebody steals something, they want to sell it to get money. Right? I know some of the retailers whose wholesalers are people with sticky fingers. Do you want the stuff back or do you just want to know who's kyping it?"
"The latter step first, Mr. Garrett. Then we'll consider recovery." Sudden as a lightning bolt he suffered another spasm. I felt helpless, unable to do anything for him. That was not a good sensation.
He came back but this time he was weaker.
"I'll have to close this out quickly, Mr. Garrett. I'll need to rest. Or the next attack may be the last." He smiled. There were teeth missing behind the smile. "Another reason to make sure you get your fee up front. My heirs might not see fit to pay you."
I wanted to say something reassuring, like he'd outlive me, but that seemed too cynically a load of manure. I kept my mouth shut. I can do that sometimes, though usually at the wrong time.
"I'd like to get to know you better, Mr. Garrett, but nature has its own priorities. I'll hire you if you'll have me for a client. Will you find me my thief? On the terms I stated?"
"No punches pulled? No backing off?"
"Exactly."
"Yes sir." I had to force it out. I really was getting lazy. "I'm on it now."
"Good. Good. Dellwood should be outside. Tell him I want Peters."
I got up. "Will do, General." I backed toward the door. Even in his present state the old man retained some of the magnetism that had made him a charismatic commander. I didn't want to pity him. I really wanted to help him. I wanted to find the villain Black Pete said was trying to kill him.

3
The cool in the hallway felt like high winter in the Arctic. For a second I worried about frostbite.
The General was right about Dellwood. He was there, waiting. The way he did it suggested he'd been scrupulous about not getting so close he might overhear anything. Though I doubted explosions could be heard through that door. I decided I could like the guy in spite of the stick up his spine.
"The General says he wants to see Peters."
"Very good, sir. I'd better attend to that. If you'll return to the fountain and wait?"
"Sure. But hold on. What's wrong with him? He had a couple of pretty fierce attacks while I was in there."
That stopped him dead. He looked at me, emotion leaking through for once. He loved that old man and he was worried. "Bad spasms, sir?"
"They looked that way to me. But I'm no doc. He cut the interview short because he was afraid another one would be too much for him."
"I'd better check on him before I do anything else."
"What's wrong with him?" I asked again.