"O'Donnell, Peter - Modesty Blaise 03 - I, Lucifer" - читать интересную книгу автора (O'Donnell Peter)

I, LUCIFER
Peter O'onnell

For Jim Holdaway

CHAPTER 1
'I EXPECT my people to be prompt in making their reports,' Seff said musingly. 'It is hard to believe that any of them could be unaware of my feelings in the matter.'
Bowker, a big man, rather fleshy and with a fuzz of thin fair hair, put a cube of ice in his vodka and coke, then moved away to the long couch on the far side of the room. The cotton shirt and lightweight slacks he wore were sticking to him, even though the windows which almost filled one side of the big room were fully open to the slight breeze from the sea.
Seff looked at the watch on his bony wrist. 'It is now almost thirty minutes since Mr. Wish returned to the house, and he has not yet presented himself to me. I am most displeased.'
There was no anger in the precise voice with that tinny quality which always reminded Bowker of a voice from an old gramophone, but the word 'displeased' was among the strongest in Seff's vocabulary. Hearing it, Bowker felt the sweat-damp shirt grow clammy against his back.
'It's hot,' he said, and lit a cigarette though he did not want one. 'Jack Wish has been pretty damn busy for three days, and travelling for the last six hours. Not surprising if he wants to shower and change as soon as he gets in.'
Before Bowker finished speaking he had begun to despise himself. At the same time the professional part of his mind stood ready to observe his own behavioural response to stimuli in what would now follow.
He had blustered. Now Seff would slowly turn and look at him, just look, with the head tilted a little to one side, queryingly. Bowker would see the thin, long-limbed figure in the black suit with the wing collar and pearl tie-pin; the narrow face with sunken cheeks; the black hair spread so carefully that it might have been painted on in streaks.
The Adam's apple in Seff's scrawny neck would jump up and down two or three times, then Seff would speak, and Bowker's suprarenal glands would pump adrenalin into his bloodstream as his body reacted to fear. The moment of bluster would end, and he would crumple as he had crumpled a hundred times before.
'Physician, heal thyself,' Bowker thought bitterly.
Seff turned slowly and stared at Bowker, his head on one side, queryingly. The protuberant Adam's apple jumped up and down two or three times.
'I would not like to think that your remarks mean that you approve of Mr. Wish being dilatory, Dr. Bowker,' Seff said with grave courtesy.
'No, I don't approve.' Bowker ground out the cigarette with a shaking hand, looking away. 'I was only saying ... well, it's hot.' He gestured meaninglessly.
After several seconds Seff turned and stood with his long-fingered hands loosely clasped behind his back, facing out of the open windows. From them a broad flight of steps led down to a sandy path with low dunes on either side. The path ran for fifty yards and ended in a large square terrace of pastel-coloured tiles jutting out into the sea some ten feet above the quiet waters of the bay. To one side of the terrace lay a long finger of water, an inlet forming a natural pool.
'Will you come here please, Dr. Bowker?' Seff said. Bowker moved across the room to stand beside the thin black figure. His eyes searched the empty terrace then moved to the pool. He saw a flash of movement as a glistening brown body in red swim-trunks surfaced and swam lazily down the length of the pool before submerging again.
'I am concerned about our young friend there,' said Seff. 'Over the past six months his results have fallen from eighty per cent accuracy to seventy-five per cent.'
'It's not a lot.' With an effort Bowker stopped his voice sounding petulant.
'It is too much.' The gramophonic voice was without inflexion. 'It means more killings, Dr. Bowker. That is undesirableЧnot in itself, of course, but to the extent that it increases Mr. Wish's task, and hence our vulnerability. This matter of our young friend's efficiency is very much to your address, I feel.'
Bowker wiped his face and said, 'I'm doing all I can, Seff. I've maintained his delusion, even strengthened it.'
'Does one have to maintain a delusion in such cases? You have given me to understand otherwise.' Seff was musing again. He did not wait for a reply. 'It is his work and his accuracy that concern me.'
'The psychiatrical side is only part of it,' Bowker said quickly. 'As for the other part, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. It's not really my fieldЧ' He broke off and turned as the door opened. Seff turned with him.
A short man with very broad shoulders and a barrel chest came into the room. His hair was rather long and sleeked back from a low brow above a face that seemed flattened almost to the point of being concave. He wore only boxer shorts and open sandals.
'I have been waiting for you, Mr. Wish,' Seff said coldly.
'Sorry. Been busy.' Jack Wish had a low, growling voice. He was American, highly skilled in his own particular trade but slow-witted in almost anything else.
Bowker felt a flash of envy as he watched Jack Wish roll across to the bar and pour himself a drink. The man could be frightened by Seff, but only when the fact penetrated that Seff was displeased with him, and it would not penetrate unless Seff put himself to the task of making sure that it did. Bowker would have liked to run an I.Q. test on Jack Wish. It baffled him, professionally, that a man could apparently possess a selective intelligence which made him brilliant in one field only.
Drink in hand, Wish came towards the other two men now, a grin creasing his face. 'The B№chner boys knocked off Werner in Hamburg, Tuesday,' he said. 'Nice job. I paid 'em off.'
'We read of it,' said Seff, and Bowker realised with a pang of disappointment that Seff was not going to put the screws on Jack Wish this time.
Wish nodded. 'I figured you'd read that bit. But I got the Paris killing laid on too. Sometime this week it'll be. Only three thousand dollars.' He paused and drank, then looked expectantly at Seff and Bowker.
'You have something to tell me, something else?' Seff said.
'You bet I got something else.' The flattened face gleamed with pride. 'Remember we had a Danish kid with us on the ship when we were working around the Med?'
'Larsen?'
'That's him. Well, he must've peeked a little when he shouldn't. And he saw enough to make a few crazy guesses about us. Or maybe not so crazy.'
Bowker felt cold, but Seff's voice held no emotion as he said, 'How do you know this, Mr. Wish?'
'Ran into him in Hamburg. He'd been doing a lot of adding up, and he reckoned he might earn himself a pension. But when he sees me, he just can't help doing a little digging before he starts putting in the squeeze.'
T hope to God you played it innocent,' Bowker said hoarsely. 'Dammit, he's only guessing. He's got nothing to tell anybody.'
'Lot of folks are interested in his kind of guessing right now, Doc.' Jack Wish grinned smugly. 'Sure I played it innocent. Made like I was just a bum around the place and didn't even know as much as he did. So in the end we figure we better operate together on this, do a little shamus work, me on the inside, him on the outside. It's like a movie, see? He laps it up. Once we know the full score, then zowie! We're rich.'
There was silence in the room.
'And where is Larsen now, Mr. Wish?' Seff asked at last.
'Here.' Wish jerked a thumb over his shoulder. 'We came back together. I was to drop him in Westerland, but I chilled him and brought him on here. Reckoned maybe you'd like the boy wonder to see him off.' Wish nodded towards the open windows with his last words.
Bowker let out a long exhalation of relief. For a moment he felt a rush of something akin to affection for Jack Wish. Seff was walking slowly up and down the room, cracking his knuckles, a sure sign that he was pleased.
'You have done very well indeed, Mr. Wish,' he said approvingly. 'And I agree with your suggestion. I take it that since you returned you have been preparing Larsen for his departure?'
'Uh?' Wish stared blankly. 'Surely to God he ain't going any place, Seff? Hell, I only just brought him inЧ' He broke off, light dawning slowly on his face. 'Ah, you mean I been getting him fixed up for the boy wonder? Sure! He's all ready.'
'That was indeed my meaning.' Seff continued his slow pacing. As he moved, the joints of his body creaked and clicked faintly. This was something that always set Bowker's teeth on edge, and he spoke loudly now to shut out the sound.
'You wanted to run a work-session this afternoon, Seff.'
'Yes.' Seff stopped pacing. 'Would you advise dealing with that before or after attending to Larsen?'