"Dibdin, Michael - Aurelio Zen 02 - Vendetta UC - part 12" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dibdin Michael)

She took a notebook and pen from her handbag, wrote
an address and handed it to him. He read, 'Tania
Biacis, c/o Alessandra Bruni, Via dei Gelsi 47. Tel. 78847.'
'It's in Centocelle. I'm staying there temporarily, until I
find somewhere for myself. You know how difficult it is.'
He nodded.
'And Mauro?'
'Mauro? Mauro's still living with his mamma.'
Everything about her had a new edge to it, and Zen
couldn't be sure that this wasn't an ironical reference to his
own situation.
Ignoring this, he said, 'That restaurant in Piazza
Navona, it's open tonight.'
She waited for him to spell it out.
'Would you think of... I mean, I don't suppose you're
free or anything, but...'
'I'd love to.'
'Really?'
She laughed, this time without malice.
'Don't look so surprised!'
'But I am surprised.'
Her laughter abruptly subsided.
'So am I, to tell you the truth. I can't quite see how we
got here. Still, here we are.'
'Here we are,' he agreed, and signalled to the waiter.
On the broad pavement outside, Zen pulled Tania
against him and kissed her briefly on both cheeks in a way
that might have been purely friendly, if they had been
friends. She coloured a little, but said nothing. Then,
having agreed to meet at the restaurant that evening,
Tania hailed a taxi to take her to Palazzo di Montecitorio,
the parliament building, where she had to run an errand
for Lorenzo Moscati, while Zen returned to the Ministry
on foot.
The winter sunlight, hazy with air pollution, created a
soothing warmth that eased the lingering aches in Zen's
body. A surgeon in Nuoro had spent three hours picking
shotgun pellets out of his limbs and lower back, but apart
from those minor subcutaneous injuries and a slightly
swollen ankle, his ordeal had left no permanent scars. He
strolled along without haste, drinking in the sights and
sounds. How precious it all seemed, how rich and various,
unique and detailed! He spent five minutes watching an
old man at work collecting -ardboard boxes from outside a
shoe shop, deftly collapsing and fiattening each one. An
unmarked grey delivery van with reflecting windows on
he rear doors drove past with a roar and pulled in to the
side of the street, squashing one of the cardboard boxes.
he old man waved his fist impotently, then retrieved the
ox, straightened it out and brushed it clean before adding