"Nick Pollotta - That Darn Squid God" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pollotta Nick)

Oxford school tie, with the mandatory small porridge stain. His craggy face was deeply tanned, and the
silver highlights in his wavy hair almost perfectly matched the silver lion head of his ebony walking cane.
The inner pocket of his coat bulged with an Adams .32 revolver and looped across his waistcoat was a
gold watch chain with a petrified shark tooth dangling at the end as a fob. Jutting from a pocket of his
vest was an embossed case containing numerous calling cards that merely listed his name, address, and a
few dozen of his titles. His real profession was not among them.
Starting to address the waiting cabby, Prof. Einstein frowned as he caught a gale of merriment
coming from the nearby building. Eh? In the expert opinion of the professor, a tribe of Zulu warriors
performing the Mexican hat dance could not have been more incongruous than the loud laughter, which
came from the ground floor windows of the five-story brownstone building dominating the block.
In the past few weeks, Einstein had noticed that the weather patterns of the entire world were
steadily becoming worse; snow in Egypt, tornadoes in the Amazon jungle, bright sunshine in Liverpool,
and such. Yet those were merely side effects of the coming apocalypse.
_So who could possibly be laughing at such a dire time as this?_ the professor demanded irritably.
_Surely not my fellow club members! Maybe the fog was distorting the noise of some distant party so
that it seemed nearby? Yes, of course, that must be the answer. How obvious._
"Best stay sharp, Davis," Prof. Einstein said, reaching upward to shake hands with the burly driver.
The complicated procedure took a few moments as thumbs, fists, knuckles, tickling and slapping were
involved. It seemed more of friendly fight between the two men than a salutation.
"I'd recommend a routine number nine," Einstein added as they eventually let go.
"My very thought," Davis whispered, checking the iron cudgel tucked into his wide leather belt. The
'Liverpool Lawgiver' was worn from constant use, and appeared as formidable as a consort Navy
battleship. "Just you look for me, and I'll be there, governor."
"Good man."
Giving a wink, Davis shook the reins, and started the two draft horses away from the curb at a
gentle canter. The cab vanished into the billowing clouds, and soon there was only the rattling echo of its
wooden wheels on the cobblestones that ghostly faded away.
Shaking off his uneasy feeling, Prof. Einstein checked the loaded pistol in his pocket before starting
along the pavement towards the giant brownstone. Then the odd laughter sounded again, louder this time,
and most definitely from the club. Outrageous! With an annoyed snort, Einstein began to stride
impatiently towards the towering downtown mansion.
Reaching the front of the huge building, Prof. Einstein ambled up the worn marble stairs with his mind
still on the strange laughter. Einstein was quite aware that at any given time one could be almost sure of
the leader of some newly returned expedition regaling the assembled members with their latest tales of
derring-do, heavily embellished with sound effects, visual aids and the unwilling cooperation of the
nearest staff member. In point of fact, the London Explorers Club was the only establishment in England
that was forced to offer its servants combat pay. But raucous laughter when the world was on the brink
of destruction? Professor Einstein frowned in consternation. Most unseemly. He had sincerely hoped that
at least some of the other members would have been able to read the portents of the coming apocalypse.
Perhaps he was wrong.
Pushing open the brassbound mahogany door, Einstein entered the mansion and handed his
Inverness cape, hat, and cane to a doorman, who in turn passed them to a liveried page. Taking a deep
breath, the professor stood for a precious moment to let the warm air seep into his bones. The pungent
atmosphere was thick with the homey smell of wood polish, pipe smoke, and cordite. _Ah, home, sweet
home!_
Just then, another burst of laughter arose only to be abruptly cut off by a man's stern voice. Einstein
tried to catch what was being said, but it was rapidly drowned out by a new upswelling of mirth. The
noise seemed to be coming from the Great Hall. In spite of the urgency of his mission, the professor was
forced to admit that this was becoming interesting. There was an unwritten law in the club that one had
best know when to stick to the truth and when one could embellish a story a bit. A law that many bent,