"Cook, Glen - Garrett 07 - Deadly Quicksilver Liesuc" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cook Glen)

GLEN COOK



Sleepy, puzzled noises came from the small front
room between my office and the door. "I'll kill him if
he wakes that talking chicken." I glanced at Eleanor.
She offered no advice. She just hung there, baffled
by Espinosa.

"Guess I better dent a head before I got to deal
with another citizens' committee." Or had to put up
a new door. Doors aren't only not cheap, they're hard
to come by.

I dropped my feet, stretched my six feet two, got
going. The Goddamn Parrot made a noise. I peeked
into his room.

The little buzzard was only talking in his sleep. Ex-
cellent! He was one pretty monster. He had a yellow
head, blue neck ruff, red and green body and wings.
His tail feathers were long enough I could maybe
someday cash in with a band of gnomes who needed
decorations for their hats. But a monster he was, for
sure. Somewhere sometime somebody put a curse on
that foul-beaked vulture so he's got the vocabulary of
a stevedore. He lives to be obnoxious.

He was a gift from my "friend" Morley Dotes.
Made me wonder about the nature of friendship.

The Goddamn Parrot  dba Mr. Big  stirred. I got
out of there before he took a notion to wake up.

I have a peephole in my front door. I peeped. I
muttered, "Winger. Wouldn't you know?" My luck
and water have plenty in common, especially always
heading downhill. Winger was a natural disaster look-
ing for a place to happen. A stubborn disaster, too. I
knew she'd pound away till hunger got her. She didn't
look underfed.

She wouldn't worry about what the neighbors
thought, either. She noticed the opinions of others the
way a mastodon noticed undergrowth in the woods.

I opened up. Winger moved forward without being
invited in. I stayed put and almost got trampled. She
is big and beautiful, but her candle doesn't burn too