"Dibdin, Michael - Aurelio Zen 02 - Vendetta UC - part 05" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dibdin Michael)and all the rest of it, do you know what that amounts to'?
Traffic accidents, that's all. If you have roads and cars, a certain number of people are going to get killed and injured. Those people attract a lot of attention, but they're really just a tiny percentage of the number who arrive safely without any fuss or bother. It's the same in busi- ness, Aurelio. The system's there, people are going to use it. The only question is whether you want to spend your time cleaning up after other people's pile-ups or driving off where you want to go. Fancy a cognac or something?' It was after three o'clock when the two men emerged, blinking, into the afternoon sunlight. They shook hands and parted amicably enough, but as Zen walked away it felt as though a door had slammed shut behind him. People changed, that was the inconvenient thing one always forgot. It was years now since Gilberto had left the police in disgust at the way Zen had been treated over the Moro affair, but Zen still saw him as a loyal colleague, formed in the same professional mould, sharing the same perceptions and prejudices. But Gilberto Nieddu was no longer an ex-policeman, but a prosperous and successful businessman, and his views and attitudes had changed accordingly. On a day-to-day level this had been no more apparent ihan the movement of a clock's hands. It had taken this men. The Sardinian still wished Zen well, of course, and would help him if he could. But he found it increasingly difficult to take Aurelio's problems very seriously. To him they seemed trivial, irrelevant and self-infiicted. What was the point cf getting into trouble and taking risks with no prospect of profit at the end of it all? Gilberto's attitude made it impossible for Zen to ask him for help, yet help was what he desperately needed for the Project that was beginning to form in his mind. If he couldn't get it through official channels or friendly con- tacts then there was only one other possibility. The first sighting was just north of Piazza Venezia. After the calm of the narrow streets from which most traffic was banned, the renewed contact with the brutal realities of Roman life was even more traumatic than usual. I'm getting too old, Zen thought as he hovered indecisively at the ke rb. My reactions are slowing down. I'm losing my nerve, my confidence. So he was reassured to see that a tough-looking young man in a leather jacket and jeans was apparently just as reluctant to take the plunge. In the end, indeed, it was Zen who was the first to step out boldly into the traffic, trusting that the drivers would choose not to exercise their power to kill or maim him. It was marginally less reassuring to catch sight of the |
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