"Elrod, P N - Vampire Files 09 - Lady Crymsyn E-Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

Blair possesses. I shall strive to make use of his cooperation while the
beneficent effect of your influence lasts."
"Be my guest."
After dropping him at the house, I continued on to the Nightcrawler Club.
Gordy and I had some serious talking to do.
3
I used one of the side entries to the Nightcrawler to avoid the crowds out
front. This wasn't a black tie evening, but I was still unshaved. Besides, if
Blair had any stoolies working the joint, I wanted to avoid them as well. He
knew entirely too much about me for my own good.
The door was locked from the outside, but I didn't let that slow me and sieved
in through the thin cracks around its edge, then found the back stairs off the
casino room. There was a touch of trudging in my walk. I wasn't nearly to the
point of being physically tired yet, but my mind had been hopping nonstop for
hours, and that could wear me out the same as anyone.
Gordy's men must have been busy elsewhere; I didn't spot his bruisers until I
pushed open the office door. The mug who was there to answer the phone and
otherwise keep an eye on things knew me by sight and understood I had a special
pass to the inner sanctum whenever I wanted. I got an expressionless up and
down, but without a word he left his game of solitaire to find his boss. I
looked the cards over and decided he might win that round. After a minute he
came back and told me to follow the man who stood waiting in the hall. This one
was dressed like a waiter and had at least a .32 stuffed under one arm. I was
used to seeing most of the Nightcrawler's male employees carrying heat. What
would surprise me would be finding one who wasn't.
Usually Gordy would make time to see me whenever I dropped in, and we'd sprawl
comfortably on his expensive furniture in the office and talk about all kinds of
stuff. I'd saved his life once or twice, and that meant something to him. We
also had pretty much the same hours. Escott was a hell of a good friend, but
couldn't stay up all night just to keep me company, so Gordy filled in that
particular gap. It was pretty educational, too. I learned more about who was who
in mob politics than should be healthy, but Gordy knew it wouldn't be repeated
by me to others. WellЕ maybe to Escott.
This being escorted to another room was different from his regular pattern, so
my curiosity perked up. Things got more interesting when I was led down more
stairs to the club's basement. I could have done without the feeling this turn
inspired. Gordy didn't keep bodies hereЧthat I knew ofЧbut the dim lighting and
the scent of dank, uncirculated air annoyed me with its reminder of what I'd
just left. I shoved the bout of dщjр vu away.
We walked past a trapdoor in the floor. That was a relief. It led to a
brick-lined tunnel running under the street all the way to another building. I'd
had my fill of sinister underground chambers for the next few decades. We
stopped. Amid stacks of boxes containing everything from seltzer water to tinsel
party favors I took in an interesting little tableau.
Only one forty-watt bulb lighted things in this wood-and-cardboard grotto. The
shadows were harsh and sucked color from everything. Gordy, who was large enough
and solid enough to give Mount Rushmore some competition, sat on a crate looking
at another man I vaguely knew from my time in the bookie joints. The guy's name
was Royce Muldan, a handsome specimen possessing a fine appreciation for his own
looks. It was said he risked his life every time he passed a mirror because of