"Laura Anne Gilman - Staying Dead" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gilman Laura Anne)

"Thanks. Let's go take a look at the inside, shall we?" The we was ironic, and they both knew it. Rafe
wasn't so cute when he was annoyed. Oh well. She shouldered her way through one of the large
revolving glass doors that led to the lobby, and walked inside the building, her eyes scanning the floor and
walls with a practiced eye. She was looking for any indication that something might have been chalked or
painted on the gleaming marble surfaces. Especially if it was a remote grab, signposts would show up
somewhere. Remotes were tough enough, easier to focus if you had something there to guide you in.
Leaving something of your own was best, but risky if you couldn't pull it on your way out.

Admittedly, it would have been difficult for anything to adhere to that expensive marble-and-brass
slickness, but the lobby would be the logicalтАФeasiestтАФplace for the thief to lay a marker. Wren was
surprised when her scan didn't turn up anything. Markings were a safer way to do the job than actually
being on-site at the time, something you could do well in advance of the job, and assuming that the victim
knew enough to call in someone like herself afterward. If she had been doing the grab, she would have
markedтАж the ceiling. Wren scanned upward, squinting against the overhead light, and let out a soft
triumphant "hah!" There, up on the ceiling behind her, by the door. A faint streak, difficult to find even if
you knew where and how to look for it. Wren did a rough calculation and decided that if you followed
the end of the streak down and at an angle, it would point directly to where the northeast cornerstone
was laid.

"Now, how did you get up thereтАж and is it worth my time to go up and check you out?"

Probably not, she decided. Maybe later, if need be. But for now, the evidence was enough. Nobody was
going to go up there and erase it, after all. Not without leaving even more trace for her to follow.

Something beeped. Rafe excused himself, going off into the far corner to talk into his walkie-talkie. He
looked upset. Somebody must have seen him snatching the water, she thought with an evil grin.

Nodding to the morning guard at his station, she stopped so that he could compare the code of her
temporary security pass against the list in the computer.

"Anyone else come in last night with a visitor's pass?" Overlook nothing; assume the perp was either
insanely clever or astonishingly dumb. You never knew when a simple question could get you an
important answer.

"Nope. Heard there was a problem last night?" The guard was a short black guy in a standard-issue
polyester blue jacket and tie a shade darker than Rafe's. Although the tie might have been silkтАФhe
looked like a guy who would upgrade when possible. He sat the long security desk like a command
center. Which, based on the number of blinking lights and constantly-changing screens set into the
five-foot-wide surface, it was. Like something out of Star Trek, only without the nifty beeps and pings
and whirring red alerts. This console was sleek and silent, even when a knob flicked red. He glanced at
it, flipped a switch, and corrected whatever the problem was, all without taking his attention off her.

"You asking me, or telling me?" Wren asked. She heard the hardness in her voice, and winced inwardly,
trying to tone it down a little. Don't antagonize the witnesses, you idiot! A slight cock of the head to the
right, like the bird she was nicknamed for, and a faint smile that could be mistaken for encouragement
softened her words.

It worked enough to take the edge off his initial reaction. "They told me there was going to be a full-scale
shakedown later today. That says trouble."