"Simon Hawke - The Nine Lives of Catseye Gomez" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

I looked him over. Feisty-looking character, not too tall, broad in the chest, dark-haired, maybe in his fifties.
Had a look about his face I recognized and liked at once. A tough and lived-in look. The look of a guy who's
been around and seen a few things in his life that maybe weren't too pleasant, things that might've bothered
him, but not enough to grind him down.
"Paulie?" he said, with a wry smile. "Somehow, I've never thought of him as Paulie. With us, it was always
Solo and Ramirez." He shrugged. "It was a long time ago."
"What were you to Paulie?" I asked.
"A friend," he said, simply. "We knew each other back in Cambridge, Massachusetts, when he was studying
with Merlin and I was going for my criminology degree. He used to date my sister. I'm afraid it didn't turn out
too well. I liked him, you understand, liked him a lot, and I tried to warn him. My sister... well, let's just say it
wasn't in the cards and leave it at that. He got pretty torn up about it. After we got out of school, we went our
separate ways and kind of lost touch with each other. I don't guess he'd talk about those days too much."
"I see," I said. "Well, if you want some time with Paulie, it's okay with me. I'm about through here, anyway."
"It was you I came to see," said Solo.
"Me?"
"I've been looking for you ever since I got to town about a week ago."
"Yeah? Okay. You found me. So?"
Solo stared at me for a moment, then moistened his lips nervously and took a folded piece of paper from his
pocket. "Paul wrote me a letter," he said. "It must have been.. .just before he died. I'd like to read it to you, if I
may."
Something suddenly felt real tight inside me. "Yeah," I said. "Go ahead."
"Dear Solo," the man read. "I know it's been a lot of years, and a lot of water under the bridge. But there's one
thing time has never changed, even if we haven't stayed in touch too well. I still consider you one of the
closest friends I've ever had. I would have said the closest friend, but there's another friend who's just as
close, someone who's like a brother to me, even if he isn't human."
I looked away and closed my eyes, feeling as if somebody'd grabbed my heart and started squeezing.
Goddamn, Paulie....
"His name is Gomez," Solo continued, "Catseye Gomez, and he's a cat. A thaumagene." Solo glanced up
from the letter. "He goes on here to tell me something about you, about how you two got together and what
you're like and some of the things you've been through... anyway. ..."
He looked back down at the letter and continued reading. "The thing is, old friend, I'm dying. There's nothing
to be done, and by the time you get this, I'll probably be gone. I've taken care of most things in my will, but
there's one thing I'd like you to take care of for me, and it's the one and only thing I've ever really asked of
you, and the last thing I will ever ask of you. Look after Gomez for me. Not that Catseye needs much looking
after, he's a real independent sort. He's very much his own person... well, I tend to think of him as a person...
and if he knew that I was writing this, he'd probably get angry and want no part of it. He's a tough old cat who
grew up on the streets and knows his way around. He can take care of himself, believe me, but somehow, I
just hate the thought of him being on his own, without a friend, back on the streets again after I've gone. He's
been a loyal and true friend, Solo, just as you have been, and in different ways, at different times, you two
have been very important parts of my life. Neither you nor Gomez are exactly spring chickens anymore, but
unless I miss my guess, I think the two of you will find you have a lot in common, and I'd like to do just one
last thing before I go. I'd like very much to bring my two old friends together. In a way, it's like completing
something, I suppose. I don't know how either of you will feel about the idea, and I'm not asking for anything
like a firm commitment. I'm just asking you both to give it a try. One last favor for a dying man. I think you'll
both find it hard to turn that down. I hope so. But I'm pretty sure you won't regret it. Do it for me. And think
about me when I'm gone. Good-bye, old friend." Solo looked up from the letter. "Love, Paul."
I felt like I had a hairball the size of a Frisbee stuck in my throat. "Damn, Paulie...." I said.
"Well..." said Solo. "I've always been pretty much of a loner, myself, but if Paul Ramirez considers you a
friend, then so do I. So what do you say, Gomez?"
What the hell was I supposed to say? Hell, I didn't even know the guy, and I wasn't in the market for any new