"Robb, J D - In Death 12 - Judgment In Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robb J D)

"After the first few hits, he wouldn't have felt anything."
"Ever had a bat laid into you? I have," he said before she could answer.
"It's not pleasant. It seems far-fetched to think it's robbery, even one that
got well out of hand."
"Why?"
"There'd have been enough prime liquor, easily fenced, to keep anyone
cozily fixed for some time. Why break the bottles when you could sell them? If
you hit a place like this, it's not for the bit of cash that might be copped,
but for the inventory and perhaps some of the equipment."
"Is that the voice of experience?"
She teased a grin out of him. "Naturally. My experience, that is, as a
property owner and a law-abiding citizen."
"Right."
"Security discs?"
"Gone. He got all of them."
"Then it follows he'd cased the place carefully beforehand."
"How many cameras?"
Once again, Roarke took out his pad, checked data. "Eighteen. Nine on
this floor, six on two, and the other two on the top level for full scope.
Before you ask, closing is at three, which would have staff out by half past.
The last show, and we've live ones here, ends at two. The musicians and the
entertainers -- "
"Strippers."
"As you like," he said mildly. "They clock off at that time. I'll have
names and schedules for you within the hour."
"Appreciate it. Why Purgatory?"
"The name?" The ghost of a smile flirted with his mouth. "I liked it. The
priests will tell you Purgatory's a place for atonement, rehabilitation perhaps.
A bit like prison. I've always seen it as a last chance to be human," he
decided. "Before you strap on your wings and halo or face the fire."
"Which would you rather?" she wondered. "The wings or the fire?"
"That's the point, you see. I prefer being human." As the stroller
wheeled by, he ran a hand over her short brown hair. "I'm sorry for this."
"So am I. Any reason a New York City detective would have been working
undercover in Purgatory?"
"I couldn't say. It's certainly likely that some of the clientele might
dabble in areas not strictly approved by the NYPSD, but I've not been informed
of anything overt. Some illegals might change hands in privacy rooms or under
tables, but there's been no large transactions here. I would have known. The
strippers don't turn tricks unless they're licensed, which some are. No one
under age is allowed through the doors -- as client or staff. I have my own
standards, Lieutenant, such as they are."
"I'm not coming down on you. I need a picture."
"You're pissed that I'm here at all."
She waited a minute, her short, choppy hair disordered from its dance
outside in the early breeze. As the morgue techs opened the door to transfer
Kohli, the sounds of the day punched into the club.
Traffic was already thickening. Cars crammed irritably on the street, air
commuters swarmed the skies. She heard the call of an early-bird glide-cart
operator call to the techs and ask: "What da fuck?"