"Quintin, Jardine - Fallen Gods" - читать интересную книгу автора (Quintin Jardine)

now that he had attained command rank, his closest friend had come to
feel the same way.

However he was still new to the Tayside force, and understood that he
had to be seen in it, if for no other reason than that the men under
his command would know who he was. Happily, the day promised warmth,
and he had been able to discard the heavy jacket for the white shirt,
with shoulder-panels to denote his rank.

"Now there's a picture," said Karen as she turned to look at him. "You
look just like Sir James Proud in that get-up." He smiled, knowing
that it was a copper compliment; nobody could wear a uniform like his
former chief constable.

"Where are you going today?" his wife asked him; she had been up for
two hours, since the baby had wakened her just after six a.m."
demanding her first feed of the day. Danielle Martin was two weeks and
two days old, and for all that he had had half a year to prepare for
her arrival, her father was still slightly stunned by her very
existence.

"Uhh?" he asked. His mind had been on other things.

"Are you awake yet?" she laughed. "I asked where you were going this
morning. Dundee is it? And why, on a Saturday? The football season's
over, is it not?"

He blinked. "Sorry, love; I was just thinking about Bob for a second
or two."

Karen patted his shoulder as he fed four slices of whole meal bread
into the toaster. "I understand," she said quietly. "It still gets to
you, I know; me too."

His green eyes flashed as he smiled at her; there was a new warmth in
them, a depth of feeling that had appeared at the moment of Danielle's
birth, and had stayed there ever since. He nodded towards the infant,
asleep in her carry-cot. "At least we've got her to take our minds off
it."

He pushed down the lever to start the bread toasting. "As it happens
I'm not going to Dundee. No, I'm going down to the North Inch; the
flood water's subsided, and it's just about dry enough for us to begin
the clear-up operation. In theory it's down to the householders, but
I've detailed fifty officers to help them. Community policing,
remember; that's part of my remit now'

Karen frowned. "Is there anything that isn't part of your remit?" His
duties were a sore point with her. An ex-detective sergeant herself,
she knew how badly her husband had wanted a break from criminal