"David Robbins - Blade 9 - LA Strike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

"IтАЩd pity you, Curtis, but I find it hard to pty someone who has demonstrated such stupidity."

"Who took this?" Curtis queried, his tone strained. "Irrelevant"

No one said a word for a full ten seconds, and then Fayanne heard the sounds of a scuffle, a loud gasp,
and the thud a heavy blow. She figured that Curtis must be dead, but she

was wrong. --

"Another asinine move, Curtis. You persist in compounding your stupidity. Evidently I was mistaken
about you."

"YouтАЩre not as intelligent as I believed."

"Why am I so hot?"

"Ask Claw."

Instead, Curtis blurted out. "Oh, God! Oh, God! I donтАЩt want to die!"

"Very few ever do."

A spasm of violent coughing racked Curtis and he groaned.

"You put something in my drink."
"Arsenic," the bodyguard answered gruffly, then added, as if in explanation, "The boss doesnтАЩt want any
blood on the rug."

"IтАЩm getting out of here!" Curtis declared.

Again Fayanne listened to a scuffle, only this time the tussle was punctuated by a sharp snap, die
unmistakable crack of a manтАЩs neck being neatly broken.

"Thank you," Mr. Bad said.

"Anytime, Boss."

"LetтАЩs get to the club. This pathetic wretch has delayed me long enough already. Have Dexter and Sheba
dispose of the body."

"Will do."

The front door opened and closed, and silence abruptly descended on the condo.

Fayanne waited a minute to be sure they were gone, then squeezed out from behind the sofa and stood.
She nearly dropped the notebooks and the money when she saw Curtis Jenson on the floor near a chair,
his eyes wide, his head bent at an unnatural angle, his olive suit rumpled, the healthy sheen of his brown
cheeks belying his current state. "Oh, Curtis," she said softly, then dashed to the door. A quick check
verified the elevator at the north end of the corridor was almost to the ground floor. She slipped out,