"S. A. Gorden - The Duce of Pentacles" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gorden S A)

closets. In the living/dining room, he had a used 19-inch TV and VCR on an old
coffee table, a frayed recliner and three mismatched wooden chairs.
Originally, the trailer had three bedrooms. He had a mattress in the largest
bedroom, nothing in the second, and had removed the wall from the third to add
its space to the living room. With all that empty space, he was able to do all
his katas and T'ai-Chi without bumping into walls or chairs. The only other
piece of furniture in the whole house was a barstool for the counter in the
kitchen. He ate his meals at the kitchen counter sitting on that ratty old
barstool.
James had been working on his T'ai-Chi for an hour and was just about
to change to a kata when the knocking on the front door interrupted him.
****
_The light switches on. The shadowed figure reaches to the deck and
turns over a card._
On the card face, a young man caught in mid-stride is holding a sword
aloft.
_The hands lightly tapped the table in curiosity before turning off the
light. Steps are heard followed by the creaking of a door hinge._
--------
CHAPTER 3: The Page of Swords
Al Gallea squirmed in the seat. His first time out on an investigation!
This was why he left the police force in Minneapolis to join a county
sheriff's department. If he had stayed in Minneapolis, it would have been
about five more years before he would have gone out on an investigation.
Although he took notes, he could not remember any of the details of
their conversation with Jefferson William Shermon, other than the man's name.
He was that excited. He did get the impression that the superintendent thought
that the suspect, James Makinen, had at least fondled the girl if not actually
having had intercourse with her. Al's hands tapped nervously on his notebook
as he thought about their upcoming interview with Makinen.
Deputy Sheriff Henry Hakanen, Al's training officer, interrupted his
thoughts. "Well, Al, I know James Makinen. I want you to just listen. I know
you are _hot to trot_ this being your first investigation and all, but James
won't be handled like you learned in training school. Just try to remember
everything you see and hear, and don't muck anything up by talking."
Gallea's anger flared. He'd always thought of the overweight Hakanen as
a joke. He never had understood why the other officers always stopped and
listened to Henry when he talked. He said to himself, "Fuck it. This is a
simple case. I'm going to handle it and no God damn overweight, over-the-hill
fart like Henry is going to stop me."
Before Gallea could form a retort in his mind, Henry pulled the car off
the road and in front of an old trailer. Somehow, the overweight Henry was out
the door, up the wooden steps and knocking on the trailer door before the
increasingly flustered Gallea untangled himself from the seat belt and the
files he had on his lap.
The door was opened by a middle-aged man in a ragged, sweat-stained
workout suit. He whipped his face with a towel and said, "Hi, Henry. Haven't
seen you for a while. Come in and sit. I'll make coffee."
"Thank you, Jim. I would like that. How have you been?"
Gallea nearly didn't make it through the door before it closed.