"Pawson, Stuart - The Picasso Scam" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pawson Stuart)

338 Euston Road

London NW13BH

THE PICASSO SCAM

Chapter One

Red was no longer my favourite colour. Suddenly it was the colour of
danger. And blood. Is that why it was chosen to represent danger? It
seemed the most important question in the world to me. Strange and
inconsequential, the thoughts you have when death is only the twitch of
a finger away.

The red was mine, my blood, pumping between the fingers I was clutching
to my stomach as I staggered towards the doorway from the warehouse.
Behind me the shotgun exploded again as I hit the door. I cringed with
fear and pain but no fiery blast came, just cold, fresh air as I fell
through on to the welcome pavement outside.

Footsteps. I could see feet all around me. And voices: "He's hurt...
Call a doctor ... He's bleeding ... I heard a shot... What's your
name?"

"What's your name?"

Somebody was shaking my shoulder: "What's your name?"

Did they mean me?

Again, gently: "What are you called, love?"

"Priest," I said. My face was pressed against the wet pavement. It
was cool and friendly, and had a smell that rekindled some way-back
memory.

"What did you say, love?"

"Priest," said a voice in my head, a hundred miles away. If only I
could remember ... "He wants a priest."

"We've sent for the police and an ambulance."

"What are you called?"

"Priest."

"Don't worry about a priest, love, let's get you to hospital. There'll
be a priest there."