"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 04 - Slave of Sarma" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

untouched glass and an empty ashtray and leaned over the table toward His Lordship. He clasped his
long bloodless fingers and his eyes, fairly close to a long nose, glinted at the old man in the ragbag suit.
"None of that, sir, is relevant. As you must know. This interview was arranged, with your very
gracious permission, so that we might speak in private and without public record. I came, in fact, to ask
you one specific question."
Lord Leighton brushed a wisp of white hair away from his high balding forehead. He sat a little
sideways in the tall-backed chairтАФthis eased the eternal pain in his humpтАФand his leonine eyes studied
his inquisitor with a mingle of wariness and contempt.
J felt a moment of compassion. This was his work, really, not Lord L's. Yet he could not intervene,
even if circumstances had allowed it. Lord L had warned J, in no uncertain terms, to butt out!
"Then," said Lord Leighton, sounding like a much-tried and very patient lion, "get on with it, man.
Ask your bloody damned question and get it over with."
J began to feel a little sorry for the Right Honorable gentleman. Lord L's temper was beginning to
slip.
Carrandish was not an easy man to bully. He slapped his hand on the shiny surface of the table and
some of the respect in his tone had gone.
"Ihaveasked the question, Your Lordship. I have asked it at least six times and in half a dozen ways.
So far I have received no intelligible answer."
Lord Leighton reached for a box of cigars. "Are you implying, sir, that I have gone bonkers? It is
possible, I suppose. I am an old man and I work very hard. Long hours, you know. I get very little sleep,
not nearly what my doctor tells me I need, and I never have eaten well and then of course there are all
the aches and pains that come with old age. Our brains begin to deteriorate as we grow older andтАФ"
The MP's patience had already deteriorated. He shrugged his narrow shoulders. His smile was gelid,
his gaze flinty, as he said, "That is just what I mean, sir."
Lord L, still holding on to his temper, contrived to look like an idiot. "Mean? Mean what? I don't
understand what you mean. Not at all. Not to be wondered at, I suppose. None of you young people
know how to talk these days. Nor write, for that matter. Can't think what they teach up at the schools
these days. Now in my timeтАФ"
J suddenly understood that the MP had received a reprieve. The storm was being held off. Lord L
was enjoying himself.
Carrandish was not. J watched with interest as the man made one last great effort.
"I had no intention of implying, sir, that you have gone, er, bonkers. Not at all. I merelyтАФ"
"Senile," said Lord L cheerfully. "I suppose that must be it. Pity, but it comes to all of us. And now,
Mr. Carrandish, I am afraid I must ask you to excuse me. I am tired and I am sure you have other things
to do, more important things, than talking to a doddering old wreck like me."
The MP raised his eyes and stared at the ceiling beams for a moment. J struggled with his desire to
laugh.
But the MP was tough. "I would like to put the question to you once more, sir, if you don't mind. Just
one last time. I may?"
"What question?"
Carrandish closed his eyes as if in silent prayer.
"With your permission, sir. Once againтАФI have isolated some three million pounds. What we on the
committee refer to as vagrant funds."
"I like that," said His Lordship. "Vagrant funds. Very well stated. Good use of language. Maybe I did
you young people an injustice."
Carrandish raced ahead, his eyes glazing and a dew of perspiration on his pale brow: "Some of the
vagrant funds quite naturally gravitate to Secret Funds, sir. That is well known and is not questioned. But
therearevouchers and theymustbe signed and the entire process of vouchering must be carried out to its
final conclusion so that Her Majesty's books can be balanced: I am sure, Lord Leighton, that you see
this."