"Doherty, Jim - Death And Taxes" - читать интересную книгу автора (Doherty Jim) He replied that it was quite all right, that I wasnТt that late, and that he
was sure one officer would be sufficient. We spent a few minutes chatting. Turned out CooganТd been a copper himself once, having started his Government career as an agent for the ATF (another hotshot outfit), before transferring over to Central Intelligence and, eventually, Internal Revenue. I called the SheriffТs Office to inform the watch commander that I was operating in his jurisdiction, then grabbed a doughnut off of the tray that had been set out for visitors, bought a can of Coke out of a vending machine in the employees lunch room, and went out into the corridor to take up a fixed post by the front door. Supposedly anyone with trouble on his mind would be pacified if the first thing he saw before entering the office was an armed, uniformed policeman. But so few people were showing up that I wasnТt really doing a whole lot of pacifying. Coogan was right; this wasnТt really a two-man detail. In fact, for the amount of business they were getting they probably could have gotten by with a cardboard cutout of Jack Webb. But a partner would have at least been someone to talk to and pass the time. As it was, the hours were dragging by with agonizing slowness. Since I was solo, the criminal investigator came out and spelled me a couple of times for pitstops and lunch. During one of my breaks, I happened on a nice little antique shop in another corner of the mall, where I found a Fiestaware covered soup bowl for my wife, Katie Anne, who collects the stuff. During another I browsed a used bookstore where I snagged a copy of The Trail of the Poppy the autobiography of legendary US Narcotics Agent Charles УCharlie CigarsФ Siragusa. IТd read the book before, of course, but this was the first memoirs. With Charlie Cigars to keep me company, the second half of the shift went a little quicker, and when they decided to call it a day at 1630, I didnТt feel as washed out as IТd expected to. Due the distance of my trip, I didnТt have to drive back that night. I looked forward to a relaxing evening. УDaniel Sullivan,Ф I said to desk clerk at the Red Barn Inn. УIТve got a reservation.Ф She smiled pleasantly, immediately erasing the momentary surprise her face betrayed at a uniformed policeman in a marked squad car asking for a night s lodging, and said, УYessir. You asked for a federal employeesТ rate?Ф УThatТs right,Ф I answered, sliding a credit card over to her. In a few moments the formalities of commerce had been completed, and she handed me the key to Room 9. Though Sac Prairie County is more of a working agricultural community than a resort area, it still boasts a number of hostelries notable for being both picturesque and comfortable. The Red Barn Inn is one of the most picturesque and perhaps the most comfortable. Designed (by a graduate of a nearby, world-renowned architectural institute) to resemble the circular-roofed barns found on so many Wisconsin farms, its spacious rooms and convenient location in the town of Greenspring make it very popular with tourists. The last time IТd stayed here, during a weekend of antiquing with Katie, IТd been one of those tourists. The drive from the outskirts of Sac Prairie City to Greenspring had taken fifteen or twenty minutes, and the process of checking in, finding my room, |
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