"Robb, J D - In Death 14 - Interlude In Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robb J D)

"Cops aren't heroes, Peabody. We just do the job." CHAPTER TWO
Eve wasn't interested in legends or heroes or retired cops who raked in
enormous fees playing the lecture circuit or consulting. She was interested in
finishing her one drink, putting in an appearance at the reception -- and only
because her own commander had ordered her to do so -- then making herself
scarce.
Tomorrow, she thought, was soon enough to get down to work. From the noise
level of the crowd, everyone else thought so, too.
But it appeared the legend was interested in her.
She barely had the wineglass in her hand, was just calculating the least
annoying route around the room, when someone tapped on her shoulder.
"Lieutenant Dallas." A thin man with dark hair cut so short it looked like
sandpaper glued to his scalp, nodded at her. "Bryson Hayes, Commander Skinner's
personal adjutant. The commander would very much like to meet you. If you'd come
with me."
"The commander," she returned even as Hayes started to turn away, "looks pretty
occupied at the moment. I'll be around all week."
After one slow blink, Hayes simply stared at her. "The commander would like to
meet you now, Lieutenant. His schedule through the conference is very
demanding."
"Go on." Peabody whispered it as she nudged Eve with her elbow. "Go on,
Dallas."
"We'd be delighted to meet with Commander Skinner." Roarke solved the problem
by setting his own drink aside, then taking both Eve's and Peabody's arms. It
earned him an adoring-puppy look from Peabody and a narrow scowl from his wife.
Before Hayes could object or adjust, Roarke led both women across the ballroom.
"You're just doing this to piss me off," Eve commented.
"Not entirely, but I did enjoy pissing Hayes off. Just a bit of politics,
Lieutenant." He gave her arm a friendly squeeze. "It never hurts to play them."
He slipped through the crowd smoothly, and only smiled when Hayes, a
muscle working in his jaw, caught up in time to break a path through the last
knot of people.
Skinner was short. His reputation was so large, it surprised Eve to note that
he barely reached her shoulders. She knew him to be seventy, but he'd kept
himself in shape. His face was lined, but it didn't sag. Nor did his body. He'd
allowed his hair to gray, but not to thin, and he wore it militarily trim. His
eyes, under straight silver brows, were a hard marble blue.
He held a short glass, the amber liquid inside neat. The heavy gold of
his fifty-year ring gleamed on his finger.
She took his measure in a matter of seconds as, she noted, he took hers.
"Lieutenant Dallas."
"Commander Skinner." She accepted the hand he held out, found it cool,
dry and more frail than she'd expected. "My aide, Officer Peabody."
His gaze stayed on Eve's face an extra beat, then shifted to Peabody. His lips
curved. "Officer, always a pleasure to meet one of our men or women in uniform."
"Thank you, sir. It's an honor to meet you, Commander. You're one of the
reasons I joined the force."
"I'm sure the NYPSD is lucky to have you. Lieutenant, I'd -- "
"My husband," Eve interrupted. "Roarke."
Skinner's expression didn't waver, but it chilled. "Yes, I recognized