"Evans, Tabor - Longarm 234 - Longarm and the Renegade Assassins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Tabor)

made it. I can't say I was surprised. But you gotta hope. You know?"

"I know. I was there too that afternoon. It wasn't news I wanted to
get," Henry said.

"We're gonna find whoever threw that bomb, Henry. I swear we are."

"I hope I'm there when it happens," Henry said in a coldly bitter
tone. Longarm looked at him. Henry might look meek and bookish. And for
the most part he genuinely was. But the little man had more grit than
enough, and Longarm knew he could turn loose with a six-gun when he had to.
No doubt that was what Henry had in mind now, a chance to put some lead
into whatever son of a mangy bitch it was who'd murdered Billy Vail.

Longarm stared back out the window, his eyes red and stinging for some
reason.

God, this was bad.


Chapter 4


The U.S. attorney's office was bigger than Billy Vail's had been, but
even so, it could hardly hold everybody. Longarm felt like a sardine in a
can, an overly warm can at that, wedged in as he was between Henry and
Smiley so that his arms were about pinned to his sides. If he'd farted,
the guy behind him would have felt the breeze. In addition to every deputy
working out of the Denver office, there was a contingent of U.S. deputy
marshals who had been rushed in on loan from Kansas City and four more from
San Francisco. There were representatives from the law-enforcing bodies of
the state of Colorado, the cities of Denver, Aurora, Golden, and Central
City, and Denver and Arapaho Counties. Hell, Longarm didn't know where-all
else these people came from. There was even a pair of Secret Service
agents--cold-eyed men who looked like they suspected everyone there but
themselves--who'd been dispatched off the president's own protection detail
and sent to keep an eye on the investigation.

The one thing all of these people seemed to have in common, Longarm
thought, was that every swinging dick among them wanted to catch the
bastards who'd killed Billy Vail and Avery Terrell and George and Troutman.
From every jurisdiction around, and with whatever motivations there were
that drove them, these boys all looked just about as offended and anxious
to get on with it as Longarm was himself.

"All right, settle down now. Everybody listen up," a voice called
from the front of the room, from what had been U.S. Attorney Terrell's
desk. The room, which a moment earlier had been softly buzzing with the
combined noise of several dozen simultaneous conversations, became
instantly silent.