"Creighton, Kathleen - Eyewitness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Creighton Kathleen)

Game."

MacDougal acknowledged that with a wry snort; it was common knowledge
around the precinct that, having grown up in the shadow of Chavez
Ravine, he took his baseball seriously-if you could apply a word like
"serious" to someone whose favorite team was the Los Angeles Dodgers
This year, for example, after several grim seasons spent languishing in
the bottom half of the Westero Division, the Dodgers had defied all the
odds-makers' predictions and streaked to the lead after the All-Star
break. Then, in typical

Dodger fashion, with pennant fever in L. A. approaching epidemic
levels, they'd gone into an equally dazzling tailspin. They'd just
barely managed to hold off a season ending charge by, of all the teams
in the league, the lowly San Diego Padres!

In the end, as it seemed to so often when the Dodgers were involved,
the unimaginable had happened. The two bitter rivals from opposite
ends of the 405 Freeway had finished the regular season in a dead heat.
A one-game play-off would decide the Western Division winner, to be
played, by virtue of a coin toss, which the Dodgers had of course lost,
in San Diego. That game was being played this evening. Right this
very moment, in fact.

MacDougal had pulled every string he knew how to pull, but he still
hadn't been able to wrangle a ticket to the game.

The ME, having at last achieved the landing, elbowed him in the ribs
and grinned. " " Hey, one helluva game, too. I was listening to it on
the radio on the way over here. Listen to this-top of the second, and
Sanchez leads off-"

MacDougal planted a good hard grip at the join of Stanislowski 's neck
and shoulder and proceeded to explain in a good-natured and friendly
way exactly what part of the ME's anatomy he planned to cut off and
feed to him if he finished that sentence.

Stanislowski gave an admiring chuckle followed by a grunt of sympathy.
"Taping it, are you?"

"I sure hope so: MacDougal flattened himself against the railing to get
out of the way of the arriving swarm of forensics experts, then jerked
a thumb toward the open door and muttered, " Bedroom-Burnside's in
charge. " He started down the stairs. " I've got a six-hour tape in
my VCR. First guy that tells me how that game comes out's going to
wish he hadn't. "

"Good luck," the medical examiner wheezed cheerfully, and heaved
himself through the door after the photographer