"P. N. Elrod - Vampire Files 08 - The Dark Sleep" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

himself, but break up his old girlfriend's pending marriage. That was the lesser of two evils, though.
Another strategy would be for him to wait, then quietly squeeze money out of her over the years, which
would pay a hell of a lot more in the long haul. Either way, Miss Mary Sommerfeld was in for a rough
time.

"Well, Mr. Fleming?" she asked through clenched teeth. She'd resisted looking across the room for
several minutes now.

"They're still talking. Eat some more. You don't want to draw attention."

She subsided and pushed her food around. No one was paying any mind to us, but I wanted her quiet.
The place wasn't noisy, but there was enough conversation going on to make it difficult for me to pick out
Escott's voice from the rest. A couple at a table in between us finished and left, and once the busboy had
cleared things I was just able to eavesdrop on my partner's negotiations.

"It's a perfectly fair offer," he said in his most reasonable tone.

McCallen, whose voice started somewhere near his feet, rumbled a response. I couldn't catch the
words.

"I cannot answer that," Escott replied. "I'm only acting on her behalf, a neutral go-between and nothing
more. All she asks is that you return the entire item, no questions asked, in exchange for a substantial
reward."

"The goods belong tome ," said McCallen, loud enough for anyone to hear. Mary gave a little jump, and
I put up a warning hand. She'd gone beet red from suppressed fury and her eyes glittered. It was even
money whether she'd break into tears or charge across and attack him with the steak knife she clutched
in one shaking fist.

"Let Escort do his job," I said in a soothing tone. "He's just getting warmed up."

She finally put the knife down and drank a gulp of coffee. It could have been sulfuric acid and she
probably wouldn't have noticed.

I checked the mirror again and listened hard, but now Escott was talking low and quiet, leaning slightly
forward. He must be to the point of laying the law down for McCallen, letting him know that petty theft
was one thing, but extortion quite another. McCallen's face was hidden to me, but the set of his shoulders
screamed alarm bells.

"One hundred!" he yelped in disbelief. "That's ridiculous. It's worth far more than that!"

His outburst drew notice from the other patrons and even the sleepy girl at the cash register bothered to
look up from her receipts. McCallen had no mind for them, though, only his own troubles.

"I refuse, categorically," he said. "You can tell her that, or better, I'll tell her myself." Now I picked up a
distinct Scottish accent. I wondered if Escort's own English accent was working against him for once. I'd
read somewhere that the English and Scots didn't get along too well.
 Mary started to gather herself to rise, but I fastened her with a warning look. I didn't put anything behind
it and was doubly gratified when she chose to stay seated in reaction to my one raised eyebrow. I took it
for granted that I might have to make my next suggestion a little stronger, though. She seemed ready to