"duane,.dianne.-.spider.man.-.octopus.agenda" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duane Diane)

their leaves to stand bare and clean against a clear blue sky.

Now, at least, you were free of the coal dust, and you got to see the
occasional unfamiliar face, especially with the new industry coming in.
Jim Heffernan sighed. It was always the way: some big company got you
and everybody in the area all excited, got the local government to put
up money to help them move in--and then when they did move in, they
always managed to claw back as much of that money as they could for
themselves. But at least he had this job; better than nothing,
something to feed Flora and the kids, something to make him feel even a
little bit useful. He was luckier than many who had been waiting for
jobs and never got them.

Even if this job was, in essence, no more than watch inga large hole in
the ground to make sure nobody ran off with it in the night. Yeah, he
thought, and maybe someday I'll move up to watching the Brooklyn Bridge
in case one of these super-criminals from the papers tries to steal it.
Think In'g, fella. He grunted with amusement at the thought, and
turned his attention back to the crossword puzzle. Yet another
desperate attempt to keep himself awake. He hated the night shift, but
the night shift was what they had been hiring for, and there wasn't
much he could do about it, not with the mortgage to take care of, and
the kids needing new clothes for school in the fall. He stared at the
much corrected puzzle and tried to think.

Seven down, dockside security, six letters, ends wither

"Hawser," he muttered, not exactly sure what a hawser was, but knowing
it was something nautical. Except that, like most

crossword answers, though the word fit seven down, it made nonsense of
nine across. And, of course, he had left the crossword-puzzle
dictionary that Flora had given him on the kitchen table at home.

Then he heard a soft, quick shuffling right outside. It was way too
loud for blackflies.

Jim Heffernan froze for an instant. Then he quietly laid the puzzle
book aside, reached out to snap off the light, and even more quietly
undid the flap of his holster. He hadn't been issued an automatic
pistol, but his big Ruger Security Six revolver held half a dozen very
good arguments against any casual intruder doing something stupid. He
sat very still for a few seconds, letting his eyes grow accustomed to
the darkness and listening to a silence that wasn't so much a lack of
sound as someone--or something--carefully making no noise.

"It's okay, Jim," came a voice from outside. "It's me."

Jim let out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding, but didn't
bother turning the light back on again. '"you shouldn't sneak up on a