"Destroyer - 025 - Sweet Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Murphy Warren)

Norman worried about why guards never followed instructions. They had ignored his orders when that television reporter, Patti Shea, had shown up.

Norman had heard of her and her catty reports on the odd and unusual gatherings all over the world. He could not understand what she was doing at a technical conference in Missouri and he told her so.

"Just get me a room, will you, bub?" she said. "I've got a migraine you wouldn't believe."

She had rubbed a delicate hand on her forehead, highlighting her springy breasts under a tight yellow turtleneck. She let her right leg bend under her purple miniskirt and posed for an imaginary camera as "Woman in Pain."

Norman Belliveau checked the lists of representatives arriving and dormitory rooms still vacant. He stammered that there was very little room left.

"Oooh, that looks nice," said Patty, pointing to a small cottage with one hand while rubbing Belliveau's thigh with the other. She had to bear down to be felt through the stiff denim.

Norman stopped going through the lists.

"Uhhhh," he said, feeling lightheaded, "I don't see why we couldn't put you thereЕ I mean, uhhh, I wouldn't mind."

And he didn't really. After all, it was his cottage and if he wanted to lend it to somebody, why not? And the dorm rooms really weren't that bad. He could stay in one for just a few days, even with all that horrid music all night long and the dirty students.

But he had only one cottage to give and now he was called to the gate again, where the guard had been given strict orders to admit no one who did not have a room already.

What a waste of his time. If he wanted to do something besides teach his class, there were plenty of things he could do. He could go to the cafeteria and make sure that they could get the student's macaroni-and-cheese dinner out in time, to bring in brisket of beef for the university's guests.

Norman was worried that the beef brisket wouldn't thaw out in time. He worried that it might cook up dry. He worried that the delegates to the conference wouldn't like it.

He worried about his health when he saw the huge black limo parked just inside the gate.

He stopped a full twenty feet away, blinked, and stood staring.

Outside the car stood a Chinese, wearing a chauffeur's uniform, and a big ugly man in a suit that didn't seem to fit because of the lumps between his chest and his arms.

Norman Belliveau worried about whether to run or not.

The man froze him in place with a growl. "Are you Bellevue?" he asked.

Norman worried about whether he should correct the man's pronunciation. He just nodded.

The big man tapped the black back window which was sealed off from the outside world by a curtain.

Belliveau worried about getting his pension in fifteen more years.

The back door of the Fleetwood opened and Belliveau heard a song ring out:

"Meet George Jetson!"

A head followed the sound.

"His boy, Elroy!"

The face was impassive and the dark eyes under the neatly combed hair seemed to bore into Belliveau.