"Evans, Tabor - Longarm 234 - Longarm and the Renegade Assassins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Evans Tabor) "You know I'd take you except that you're officially off duty now."
"You haven't signed that leave request yet," Longarm pointed out. "No? I thought I did." Billy examined the form in his hand, leaned forward, and plucked his pen from the inkwell. He scrawled a signature onto the paper and said, "Of course I did. See there?" Longarm chuckled and went gratefully out to the main office to wait for the informal reception to welcome the visiting dignitary. After all, he had his days off. That was what counted here. "Good-bye, sir. Good-bye, all." Longarm stood among those who had drifted outside to see the party off to their luncheon. Longarm didn't have any idea what the ass-kissers expected to accomplish by clinging to the coattails of the commissioner and his lady. Longarm's motive in going along was to get the hell out of the building so he could grab a hackney and head for the hospital to tell Deborah that he would pick her up at the end of her shift. And after that ... He grinned, thinking about what would come after that. A carriage had been arranged for the short journey from the Federal Building on Colfax Avenue up past the State Capitol and on to the Cargile Club. The carriage was a handsome thing drawn by a sleek and perfectly their headstalls. Which seemed a bit much in Longarm's opinion, but then what in hell did he know about how a body is supposed to act when he's rich and important. That was unexplored territory as far as Deputy Long was concerned. "Bye," Longarm mumbled softly as those around him called out best wishes. "Bet you ain't gonna have near as much fun as me," he added half under his breath so no one else could hear. The commissioner and his wife were helped into the carriage by a fellow in some sort of red coat. Then the U.S. attorney and Billy Vail climbed in with somewhat less pomp and circumstance. The man in the red coat bent down to fold the steel steps away. As he did so, a figure broke from the crowd that had gathered to see what all the carrying-on was about. The person was slight of frame and was wrapped in a heavy cloak. Longarm had a brief impression of long, black hair, tall boots beneath the hem of the swirling cloak ... and a stream of thin smoke trailing from the running figure's hand. The cloaked form dashed directly at the carriage, swooped close behind the footman, and tossed something over the red-coated man's shoulders and into the carriage. |
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