"Barry B. Longyear - Murder in Parliment Street" - читать интересную книгу автора (Longyear Barry)

could get to the scene without drawing attention.

Once copied, our usual meat suits in stasis, we flew from the vehicle
and Shad put the cruiser up in hover park. At an altitude of approximately
two meters, we flew around the west end of the tiny church into a shop-lined
walkway that led to the north end of Trickhay Street walk. We streaked
south between the furniture stores, gadget emporiums, wireless shops,
restaurants, tea shops, and AB boutiques passing only a lone bipedal
dustmech with attached dustbin. He was attempting to scrape what
appeared to be a flattened wad of chewing gum from the pavement.
 тАЬBloody AB Emancipation Week, me tin arse,тАЭ the dustmech
muttered. тАЬDoinтАЩ the same bloody thing and payinтАЩ bloody taxes for the
privilege is all it is. Bloody wankers in bloody Parliament, tossers the lotтАФтАЭ

We turned right when we came to Waterbeer Street walk, leaving the
unhappy mech and his soliloquy on unrequited expectation behind. After
only a few meters we came to a police constable standing by himself in the
dark, his hands clasped behind his back, his stocky form fairly filling the
hundred centimeter-wide entrance of a long narrow walk between two
buildings. Partly obscured by his shoulder on the right-hand wall of the
walkway was a regulation size traffic sign that read: Parliament St.

тАЬI can see why Parker canтАЩt work the scene,тАЭ transmitted Shad out of
the copтАЩs hearing. тАЬHeтАЩd need a shoehorn to get in there.тАЭ

тАЬItтАЩs even narrower at the High Street end,тАЭ I responded. тАЬImagine
Parker dropping a load as he tried to wriggle his way into the crime scene in
front of all those cameras. That wouldтАЩve been a proper cock-up. Turn on
your lights, Shad, go on external audio, and letтАЩs log in with the constable.тАЭ

We were both hovering in the dark in front of the fellowтАЩs face. When
we turned on our lights IтАЩm afraid we startled the poor chap. He jumped,
bellowed, screamed, and swung his arms about.

тАЬDetective Inspector Harrington Jaggers and Detective Sergeant Guy
Shad, Devon ABCD,тАЭ I quickly introduced us.

The constable froze for an instant, let out a breath, then bent over to
pick up his helmet, muttering about bloody pips, the noun modified by an
additional Middle English adjective or two. Some words simply never go out
of fashion.

тАЬPolice Constable Styles,тАЭ he introduced himself as he stood, a rather
peeved expression on his face. Styles was a big ruddy-looking chap in his
late twenties, sandy-haired and attempting rather fruitlessly to raise a
moustache. After brushing off his helmet, he replaced it upon his head,
smoothed his yellow anorak, adopted a stiff military posture, and said, тАЬNow
then. YouтАЩre the Interpollys.тАЭ

тАЬDetectives Artificial Beings Crimes Division of Interpol, Devon