"Himes, Chester - The Real Cool Killers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Himes Chester)

"Take those cheaters off," Sheik said. "You want the cops to identify you?"
"Aw hell, Sheik, they couldn't tell me from nobody else. Half the cats in Harlem wear their smoke cheaters all night long."
"Go 'head and take a gander at the avenue. We ain't got all night," Sheik said.
Choo-Choo started climbing out the window.
At that moment the links joining the handcuffs separated with a small clinking sound beneath Inky's file.
"Sheik, I've got 'em filed in two," Inky said triumphantly.
"Let's see."
Sonny stood up and stretched his arms.
"Who's he?" Sissie asked as though she'd noticed him for the first time.
"He's our captive," Sheik said.
"I ain't no captive," Sonny said. "I just come with you 'cause you said you was gonna hide me."
Sissie looked round-eyed at the severed handcuffs dangling from the wrists. "What did he do?" she asked.
"He's the gangster who killed the syndicate boss," Sheik said.
Sugartit stopped sobbing abruptly and rolled over and looked up at Sonny through wide wet eyes.
"Was that who he is?" Sissie asked in an awed tone. "The man who was killed, I mean."
"Sure. Didn't you know?" Sheik said.
"I done told you I didn't kill him," Sonny said.
"He claims he had a blank gun," Sheik said. "He's just trying to build up his defense. But the cops know better."
"It was a blank gun," Sonny said.
"What did he kill him for?" Sissie asked.
"They're having a gang war and he got assigned by the Brooklyn mob to make the hit."
"Oh, go to hell," Sissie said.
"I ain't killed nobody," Sonny said.
"Shut up," Sheik said. "Captives ain't allowed to talk."
"I'm getting tired of that stuff," Sonny said.
Sheik looked at him threateningly. "You want us to turn you over to the cops?"
Sonny backtracked quickly. "Naw, Sheik, but hell, ain't no need of taking advantage of me--"
Choo-Choo stuck his head in the window and cut him off: "Cops is out here like white on rice. Ain't nothing but cops."
"Where they at now?" Sheik asked.
"They're everywhere, but right now they's taking the house two doors down. They got all kinds of spotlights turned on the front of the house and cops is walking around down the street with machine guns. We better hurry if we're going to move the prisoner."
"Keep cool, fool," Sheik said. "Take a look at the roof."
"Praise Allah," Choo-Choo said, backing away on his hands and knees.
"Get out of that coat and shirt," Sheik ordered Sonny.
When Sonny had stripped to his underwear shirt, Sheik looked at him and said, "Nigger, you sure are black. When you was a baby your mama must'a had to chalk your mouth to tell where to stick it."
"I ain't no blacker than Inky," Sonny said defensively.
"I ain't in that," Inky said.
Sheik grinned at him derisively. "You didn't have no trouble, did you, Inky? Your mama used luminous paint on you."
"Come on, man, I'm getting cold," Sonny said.
"Keep your pants on," Sheik said. "Ladies present."
He hung Sonny's coat with his own clothes on the wire line behind the curtain and threw the shirt in the corner. Then he tossed Sonny an old faded red turtle-necked sweater.
"Pull the sleeves down over the irons and put on that there overcoat," he directed, indicating the old army coat he'd taken from the janitor.
"It's too hot," Sonny protested.
"You gonna do what I say, or do I have to slug you?"
Sonny put on the coat.
Sheik then took a pair of leather driving gauntlets from his pasteboard suitcase beneath the bed and handed them to Sonny, too.
"What am I gonna do with these?" Sonny asked.
"Just put them on and shut up, fool," Sheik said.
He then took a long bamboo pole from behind the bed and began passing it through the window. On one end was attached a frayed felt New York Giants pennant.
Choo-Choo came down the fire escape in time to take the pole and lean it against the ladder.
"Ain't no cops on this roof yet but the roof down where they's shaking down is lousy with 'em," he reported.