"Easton, Tom - Real Men Don't Bark at Fire Hydrants" - читать интересную книгу автора (Easton Thomas A)

"I've got to take this guy outside," said Mickey.

"I already did."

"You got home real early then."

"I had a couple of cancellations for a change." Rocky was a clinical
psychologist with a private practice on the city's North Side. "So I've still
got some listening left. Tell Momma."

Mickey finally accepted the drink she was holding toward him. He took a
hefty swallow. Then he told her about the business executive who barked at fire
hydrants. He didn't say a word about the slow progress he was making on the
proposal.

Rocky sipped at her own drink. "Hmm."

"What do you think? In your considered, professional opinion, that is."

She laughed. "The guy's a nut."

"Is that all you can say? I could tell that much myself."

"Well, he doesn't sound depressed."

"But what is he? Schizophrenic?" Rocky didn't talk a lot about her work,
but she had told him a little. He knew schizophrenics were most likely to act
bizarre in public. He looked at his glass. It was already empty.

"I've never heard of anyone barking at fire hydrants." She stepped to one
side of the doorway and gestured toward the kitchen with her own glass. "The
bottle's on the counter."

"Mind-reader." He patted her hip as he passed. Kilroy followed him.

"Not quite. You're just predictable. And I'd have to talk with him for a
while before I could come up with a decent diagnosis. You know that."

He grunted in reply. "What're we doing for supper?"

Kilroy lifted his head and looked expectant. "Supper" was a word he knew.


The glowing red display of the clock on the table beside the bed said 2:43.
Only an occasional car interrupted the quiet of the street outside the building.
Further off, trucks rumbled and sirens whined.

Normal.