"Crombie, Deborah - A Share in Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Crombie Deborah)

"You're off to Yorkshire tomorrow, and I'm off home
to do a week's worth of washing and go round the shops?
Can't imagine why." Gemma smiled at him with her usual
good humor, but when she spoke next her voice held a trace
of motherly concern. "You look knackered. It's about time
you had a break. It'll do you a world of good, I'm sure."

Such solicitousness from his sergeant, ten years his junior,
amused Kincaid, but it was a new experience and he
found he didn't really object. He'd pushed for his promotion
because it meant getting away from the desk and out into the
field again, but he'd begun to think that the best thing about
it might be the acquisition of Sergeant Gemma James. In her
late twenties, divorced, raising a small son on her own--
Gemma's good-natured demeanor, Kincaid was discovering,
concealed a quick mind and a fierce ambition.

"I don't think it's exactly my cup of tea," he said,
shuffling the last loose sheets of paper into a file folder.
"A timeshare."

"Your cousin, is it, who arranged this for you?"

Kincaid nodded. "His wife's expecting and their doctor's
decided at the last moment that she shouldn't leave London,
so they thought of me, rather than let their week go to
waste."

"Fortune," Gemma had countered, teasing him a bit, "has
a way of picking on the less deserving."

Too tired even for their customary after work stop at the
pub, Gemma had gone off to Leyton, and Kincaid had stumbled
home to his Hampstead flat and slept the dreamless
sleep of the truly exhausted. And now, deserving or not,
he intended to make the most of this unexpected gift.

As he hesitated at the top of the lane, still unsure of his
direction, the sun came through fully and beat down upon

A share in death 3


the roof of the car. Suddenly it was a perfect late September
day, warm and golden, full of promise. "A propitious omen
for a holiday," he said aloud, and felt some of his weariness
drop away. Now, if only he could find Followdale House.
The arrow for Woolsey-under-Bank pointed directly across
a sheep pasture. Time to consult the map again.