"Eric Nylund - Paladin Blake and The Secret City" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nylund Eric)

jerked his head to the back of the bar, "Or would monsieur prefer something stronger?"

"No, I don't-" Among the rainbow colors of aperitifs, brandy, and bourbon decanters behind
the bar, Paladin spotted two bottles of Dark Knight whiskey. That threw him for a moment,
remembering Matthew and his sister and how much trouble they were. "No," he said.
"Thanks all the same."

The bartender followed Paladin's gaze. "You have a taste for the best." He retrieved the
square-bottomed bottle. "This is my personal favorite as well, particularly the rather elegant
smoky aftertaste. But almost to expensive to keep in stock, non?"

"I don't see why." Paladin said and took a sip of his coffee. "That quart cost thirty cents to
make. Even if it got marked up for a tidy profit you still shouldn't pay more than two or
three dollars for it."

"Mon Dieu!" The bartender leaned closer. "If you can get a bottle for that price, I would very
much be interested."

A new angle to the search for Flora dawned on Paladin. He had been looking for these
smuggler friends of hers by asking questions, by playing at being a cop. That wasn't
working...so maybe he could make them come to him. Or at least meet him half way.

And the best way to make a smuggler come to you was with a high profit margin.

Paladin asked, "What do you pay?"

"Twenty-five francs, gold standard, when such a bottle can be found. It is very popular." The
bartender then leaned even further across the bar top and whispered conspiratorially, "You
said you could find such a fine whiskey for three dollars a bottle?"

"I should say so." Paladin smiled. "I make the stuff."

The bartender raised one eyebrow and examined label on the bottle. Matthew's name was
there, listed as chief refiner and president of the "company."

"Monsieur Blake? Matthew Blake?"

There was an element of risk to this. Anyone who knew Matt would not only see that Paladin
was an imposter, but they might see enough family resemblance to figure out who he really
was.

On the other hand, if Black Knight whiskey was so rare in New Orleans, it was unlikely
Matthew was bootlegging here. Anyone running booze from Free Colorado would have to
circumnavigate Texas and the Rangers...something even Matthew would think twice about
doing.

"Yeah, I'm Matthew Blake," Paladin lied. "Glad you like my whiskey so much. That means a
lot to me." He reached to shake the bartender's hand.
The bartender crossed his arms. "Really, monsieur. Do not make a fool of me." He started to
replace the bottle on the shelf.