"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 320 - Reign of Terror" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"You kidding? I ordered him to flop in the sixth. This is the sixth."

Buster said, "Don't you believe the boss when he says somethin'?"

"Sure, but..." Corbaccio looked undecided.

"But what?" Corre asked, his cupid's bow mouth curved in a sweet smile.

Corbaccio stammered into silence.

"That's better," Corre said. "Now I want your honest opinion about this new salad dressing. Your honest
opinion, mind you. Don't say you like it if you don't."

Buster left the room to get plates. Corbaccio sat back in his chair and looked at Corre. How much of this
food business was an act and how much real? He could never make up his mind. The phone rang and he
watched Corre waddle over and answer it. The man was so fat. He almost abused the privilege. Three
hundreds pounds of soft blubber... and inside it that hard brain. It didn't seem possible.

Corre said, "You got the money? Okay, put it in the safe and then you can beat it." He hung up the
phone.
"We get paid off," he said to Corbaccio. "You can really relax now. I like that. You should never eat
when you are the slightest bit upset. It's not fair to the food." He turned as Buster came in with plates and
silverware. "Ah, thank you, my genial fool."

He separated the salad into three portions. Two normal size and the third gigantic. He would allow no
talking when he ate. The two men observed the silence rule. They ate. When the plates were clear Corre
asked, "Now, how do you like it?"

"Good. Very good. One of the best salads I ever ate!" Corbaccio said truthfully.

"One of the best?" Corre looked thoughtful. He lifted his head, tightening his neck line so that only three
of his double chins showed. "Where have you ever had any like it?" He was really curious.

"Why... I don't know. I don't remember. But really, this is great."

"Pity you don't remember." Corre looked sorrowful. "However, to work. Have you taken care of the
booking angle?"

"Uh huh," Corbaccio looked wary. "Corre, are you sure this is going to work? It's a peculiar angle, it's
never been done before."

"It'll work," Corre said.

"Sure." Buster shook his head anxiously. "It's the boss' idea and they always work. Wait and see!"

CHAPTER III
THE comedian bowed to his applause and walked off the floor. When he got to the side of the club the
maitre d'hotel was waiting for him. The maitre d'hotel said, "Over there. Table number six."