"Christopher Moore - The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moore Christopher)

"Mennonite," Mike said with as much authority as his junior status would
afford.
"What's a Mennonite?" Vance asked.
"Amish with blenders."
"She wasn't Amish," Theo said.
"She looks Amish," Vance said.
"Well, her husband's not Amish," Mike said.
"How can you tell?" Vance said. "He has a beard."
"Zipper on his jacket," Mike said. "Amish don't have zippers."
Vance shook his head. "Mixed marriages. They never work."
"She wasn't Amish!" Theo shouted.
"Think what you want, Theo, there's a butter churn in the living room. I
think that says it all."
Mike rubbed at a mark on the wall beneath Bess's feet where her black
buckled shoes had scraped as she convulsed.
"Don't touch anything," Theo said.
"Why? She can't yell at us, she's dead. We wiped our feet on the way in,"
Vance said.
Mike stepped away from the wall. "Maybe she couldn't stand anything
touching her floors. Hanging was the only way."
Not to be outdone by the detective work of his prot├йg├й, Vance said, "You
know, the sphincters usually open up on a hanging victim -- leave an awful
mess. I'm wondering if she actually hanged herself."
"Shouldn't we call the police?" Mike said.
"I am the police," Theo said. He was Pine Cove's only constable, duly
elected eight years ago and reelected every other year thereafter.
"No, I mean the real police," Mike said.
"I'll radio the sheriff," Theo said. "I don't think there's anything you
can do here, guys. Would you mind calling Pastor Williams from the
Presbyterian church to come over? I need to talk to Joseph and I need someone
to stay with the girls."
"They were Presbyterians?" Vance seemed shocked. He had really put his
heart into the Amish theory.
"Please call," Theo said. He left the EMTs and went out through the
kitchen to his Volvo, where he switched the radio over to the frequency used
by the San Junipero Sheriff's Department, then sat there staring at the mike.
He was going to catch hell from Sheriff Burton for this.
"North Coast is yours, Theo. All yours," the sheriff had said. "My
deputies will pick up suspects, answer robbery calls, and let the Highway
Patrol investigate traffic accidents on Highway 1, that's it. Otherwise, you
keep them out of Pine Cove and your little secret stays secret." Theo was
forty-one years old and he still felt as if he was hiding from the junior high
vice principal laying low. Things like this weren't supposed to happen in Pine
Cove. Nothing happened in Pine Cove.
He took a quick hit from his Sneaky Pete smokeless pot pipe before keying
the mike and calling in the deputies.

Joseph Leander sat on the edge of the bed. He'd changed out of his
pajamas into a blue business suit, but his thinning hair was still sticking
out in sleep horns on the side. He was thirty-five, sandy-haired, thin but