"Katherine Kurtz - Adept 01 - The Adept" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kurtz Katherine)

powers he was not entitled to. He began to practice what he fancied was a form of black magic.
Unfortunately, helpless animals suffered unspeakable torture and an innocent old woman lost her home, her
beloved pets, and very nearly her life. If there had been anything else to it, beyond a degree of petty and
vicious immaturity, his activities might have attracted my notice sooner. As it was, he was only deluding
himself in thinking that he was actually accomplishing something - which is better, I suppose, than the real
thing, except that the victim still suffers, to one degree or another."
"You're implying that black magic is real, then," Peregrine said, obviously finding it hard to believe what he
was hearing.
"Oh, it certainly can be," Adam said, fixing him with one of his bland, matter-of-fact looks. "The High Roads
are many, and the Dark turnings have always been enticing to those of evil intent, who have a true affinity for
spiritual power. And those who choose to travel the Dark Roads often engage in far blacker practices than
animal sacrifice."
The sheer nonchalance of his tone made the actual words somehow even more ominous in their impact. Even
though it was close in the lift, Peregrine shivered. Before he could press for further information, the lift
grounded with a bump and the doors parted on a corridor full of people waiting to be admitted to the
courtroom.
"Inspector McLeod will be sitting with me behind the Crown prosecutor," Adam murmured, as they stepped
out and headed down the corridor, as casual as if they had just been discussing the previous day's racing
results. "If you make for the right-hand side of the visitors' gallery, you should be able to get a reasonably
good angle on his face."
The visitors' gallery extended along the back of the courtroom, with flanking extensions running halfway along
the walls on either hand. Peregrine shouldered his way through a mixed group of journalists and idle
spectators to secure a seat in the front row, overlooking the bench which Adam was sharing with a fit-looking
grey-haired man in a tweed suit. The moustache and gold-rimmed aviator-style glasses tallied with the brief
description Adam had given him. Never doubting that he had located his intended subject, Peregrine hauled
his sketchbook from his satchel and embarked on his first sketch.
Other testimony occupied the better part of two hours. Adam immersed himself in the proceedings, only
allowing himself a glance up at the visitors' gallery when it came time to take the stand himself. He was
pleased to note that Peregrine was hard at work, his expression intensely absorbed. As Adam was sworn in,
he briefly found himself wondering what McLeod would say when he learned he had been subjected to such
penetrating scrutiny. After that, however, he gave his full attention to the questions of the Crown prosecuter,
and then of the counsel for the defense.
Adam's testimony was finished just before the court recessed for lunch. Taken as a whole, the morning had
not gone well. As he and McLeod made their way toward the back of the courtroom, moving with the flow of
attorneys and witnesses and spectators, McLeod gave vent to an uncharacteristic rumble of complaint.
"Sometimes I don't know why we bother," he muttered through clenched teeth, so that only Adam could hear
him. "That smirking little weasel back there is going to get off with a fine and probation, when by rights he
should be locked away before he gets a chance to really hurt somebody. I'll lay you any odds you like that
we get him back again within the year - and next time, it won't be just for torturing animals."
"I doubt you'll get any takers, even at those odds," Adam replied. "However, there's no point in dwelling on the
limitations of the law. You're through for the day, aren't you? Why don't you join me for lunch? I have
someone I'd like you to meet."
"That young man who was sketching, up in the gallery?" McLeod asked. "I thought he might be with you.
Unfortunately, I'm not through for the day." He glanced at his watch and grimaced. "And if I don't get my
skates on, it'll be my hide, too."
"What, have you been seconded for royal protection duty this afternoon?" Adam quipped, certain that McLeod
was doing no such thing. "I seem to recall that a certain Royal Duke is in town."
McLeod rolled his eyes and snorted. He had little patience with what he regarded as royal baby-sitting.
"Don't you dare wish that on me, Adam. Let the younger chaps have the glory, so that old fogies like me can
concentrate on real police work. No, this is some colonel from the S. A.S. come to teach a special workshop