"Stan Nicholls - Throwing A Wobbly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nicholls Stan)

including Tibetan yak's spleen, ground bark from South America's
bungo-bango tree and - '
Cramer hit the off button and expelled a weary breath.
Grimly, he concentrated on the traffic.

The house was a modest semi, tucked away at the end of Blackhorse Avenue
and overlooking the woods fringing Dickens Heath.
As Cramer shoe-horned himself out of the car a paper boy staggered past,
hefty orange shoulder bag adding to his gigantic girth. He sported the de
rigueur sullen expression of teenage and a baseball cap that adorned his
head like an egg cup balanced on a pumpkin. However much material had been
lavished on constructing his trousers didn't stop them riding above ankles
of mammoth circumference.
Cramer went through the gate and trudged along the path. He rang the
doorbell.
While he waited he cast an eye over the lawn's fleshy blades of grass and
the chubby plants choking the borders. Fat ants meandered languidly across
the paving stones.
It was getting warmer. He loosened his tie.
The door was eventually opened by an elderly man huffing from the effort
of reaching it. He was built like a tank, of course.
'Yes?' he panted.
'Mr Jarvis?'
The man nodded.
'S.I.D.,' Cramer announced.
Jarvis thought about that for a moment. 'That's Sid, isn't it?'
'Er, if you like.'
'What about it?'
Cramer was mystified. 'What about what?'
'Sid.'
'That's why I'm here.'
'There's nobody called Sid here, mate. Try number thirty-six.'
'No, no, I'm Sid ... I mean S.I.D.'
'Well what you doing coming here asking for yourself then?' He gave Cramer
the sort of look people reserved for maniacs.
'You don't understand,' Cramer insisted. 'I'm here because I'm S.I.D.'
'I can spell Sid you know,' Jarvis informed him indignantly, 'I'm not
stupid.'
'I'm with S.I.D.!' Cramer persisted.
'Oh, so now you're with this Sid, are you?' Jarvis scanned the street.
'Where is he?'
Cramer considered punching him. Instead he said, 'Let's start again, shall
we?' He fished out his ID card and shoved it under the man's nose. 'My
name is Vaughan Cramer and I'm a representative of the Home Office's
Special Investigations Department.' He added slowly and deliberately,
'S.I.D.'
'I don't know why you couldn't have said that in the first place,' Jarvis
sniffed.
A woman appeared in the hallway behind him. She was about his age and of
corresponding immensity.