"Michael Scott Rohan - The Gates of Noon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rohan Michael Scott)

children and their rock bands screeched above the traffic. On the other hand,
1 became aware of nimble fingers
probing my jacket now and again, and was glad I'd zipped away everything in
inside pockets. But that was just this part of town. The crush cleared a
tittle, and Dave caught up. 'All right/1 said heavily. 'You told me so.
Anywhere else? Or is that the lot?'
'Nowhere else/ he said, just as heavily. 'Look, I only wanted you to see for
yourself, that's all, okay? Fro new in the job, I didn't want you of all
people to think I couldn't handle it. You're sort of a hard act to
followтАФ'specially when it's you I'm reporting to.*
1 stormed on, still too angry to appreciate the compliment. Pounding the
pavements suited my temper. 'Damn it, Dave! It's an everyday deal, this. Just
a simple set of consignments to Indonesia, that's all!'
'Yeah, so simple nobody wants it.'
'But in god's name, why not?* We skipped back as a string of mopeds ran a
light, spattering debris from the gutter, then we plunged across with the
human barrier before any more broke through. *I mean, we couldn't make it any
bloody easier, could we? One or two shipments at most for any big carrier, but
we can feed it through one container at a time if we have to. So how come none
of 'em want it? Not the big boys, not the little boys - not the absolute
bloody dregs back there! Air, sea, landтАФno matter how we finagle it, this is
the nearest we get. That's hard enough; but from here it's just like running
into a bloody wall!' I glared at him. 'I know damn well just how much pull we
used to have around here! So how come you've somehow managed to lose it in a
week?'
'That's unfair,' said Dave quietly. He flicked his gold-topped Zippo under a
cigarette, shielding it between dark fingers, then slid the lighter carefully
back into an inner pocket he could fasten. It underlined a point; he was no
stranger here, either. 'Look, I'm slipping shipments through points East all
the time, no sweatтАФas you'd know if you'd read my this month's sheets.
Contracts all nitt and tiddy. Never a bother. It's just this one. And a pretty
penny-ante job at that - or so you say. So why all the fuss? Not doing a
little dealing on the side, are we, already? Arms? Nose candy?*
'For Christ's sake, Dave! You know damn well I*d never тАФ'I caught the jibe,
and reined in my temper. 'Look, I'm sorry, right? I know you can handle things
okay, you're doing at least as good a job at Contracts as I ever did. That's
why I found it hard to believe you could run into such a foul-up over this one
тАФ penny-ante, at
8
you say. Even when you'd flown out personally. So that's why I came myself.'
'Yeah. When I couldn't fix it. And now neither can you. So you might as well
spill it. What's so important about this pipsqueak account, anyhow, that it
brings our new assistant managing director out and running?*
'Well... *
*Oh, c'mon. I work for you, remember? Why're you so interested - personally, 1
mean?'
I shrugged, and jammed my hands hard into the pockets of my tight silk suit.
'Look, it's nothing likeтАФ nothing big, all right? It's just a favour. A Good
Cause one of my political cronies talked me into. Kind of millstone you have
to take on now and again, good for street cred. You know! Could be awkward if