"Paul Levinson - Loose Ends (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Levinson Paul)

significant journals and newspapers like _The New York Times_.
But nothing had happened. He had no idea if any of the ads had
even come to the attention of the team -- 1964 was after all
well before the age of online information, and an ad in a
newspaper this old might well have slipped by the Big Scannings
in the new millennium.
He opened the door to his apartment quietly, so as not to
wake Laura. She'd been sleeping over a lot, and Jeff figured
she'd be moving in with him soon. He wasn't sure how his
colleagues at City College would take this -- the 1960s were one
of the decades of sexual liberation, but Jeff wasn't enough of
an expert on that aspect of popular culture to know just how far
that went.
He tiptoed into the bedroom. He liked looking at Laura
when she was sleeping. Her eyes were open just a crack, and he
could see the bottoms of her soft brown eyes tracing some sort
of REM-dream diagram. He hoped it was of him. He looked at her
body, her breasts, one nipple partly exposed. He could do a lot
worse than spending the next 23 years with her.
He walked carefully back into the kitchen, put the papaya
juice into the refrigerator -- he loved it, a living antique,
right out of the Smith-Sonyian -- and took out some eggs. Was
cholesterol verboten in this decade? He'd been meaning to ask
Laura. It certainly wasn't in his. He started a pot of water
boiling for the eggs, and sat down at the table to read the
paper...
"Jesus!" he shouted.
"What's the matter?" Laura shuffled out of the bedroom,
rubbing her eyes.
Jeff shook his head in shock, disbelief.
"What's the matter, honey?" Laura walked over, put a
concerned hand on his shoulder.
Jeff pointed to the paper.
"What? What is it?" Laura asked.
Jeff jabbed at a picture. "I know her," he rasped. "She
was a member of my team. Rena Sarrett."
***
Laura leaned over, and read aloud the article associated
with the photograph. "... run down by a bus on Central Park
South last week.... died the next day ... her co-workers say she
was hired by Gaulin's, an insurance firm, about six months ago
... attempts to locate Miss Sarrett's relatives have all proven
unsuccessful ... police would appreciate anyone with information
contacting them..."
"She was part of your project?" Laura asked.
"Right," Jeff said, his voice choked with emotion.
Laura had the presence of mind to turn off the water, which
was furiously boiling. "And you and she were lovers?"
"What?" Jeff croaked.
"I'm sorry," Laura said.