"Kristine Kathryn Rusch - Courting Rites" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rusch Kristine Kathryn)

Courting Rites
By: Kristine Kathryn Rusch
****
Humphrey Bogart used to star in the sort of hard-edge, black-and-white film that
тАЬCourting RitesтАЭ could easily be made into. But letтАЩs cast Lauren Bacall or Mary
Astor as the detective this time (if we donтАЩt opt for Kathleen Turner as V.I.
Warshawski)тАФa gumshoe who isnтАЩt as tough as her trade, but whoтАЩs as smart as
any of the movie detectives who wait behind those glass doors for clients to walk in
with problems that are always, always more than they seem. Maybe even smarter.
Those detectives usually turn up in Los Angeles and New York. Ms. Winters works
out of Nevada, where the rents are cheap.
From this winner of the John Campbell, the Hugo, and the World Fantasy
Awards, we have the tale of the hard-boiled detective with a heart thatтАЩs softтАФbut
not that soft.
****
I should have known the case would be difficult from the start. He walked into my
office, sure as you please, confident he could charm any woman within range.
Maybe he could have once; he had a face that even at his age registered beauty.
Problem was, the face should never have grown old. His silver hair and startling blue
eyes only accented the idea that this man should have died young.
тАЬMiss Winters?тАЭ
I nodded. I allowed men of his age certain liberties when it came to addressing
me. Any man under forty-five would have been reminded curtly that the proper title
is тАЬMs.тАЭ
тАЬHow may I help you, Mr.тАЭтАФI glanced at the appointment bookтАФтАЭSilas?тАЭ
He smiled. тАЬSilas is my first name.тАЭ
тАЬAnd your last?тАЭ
тАЬDoesnтАЩt matter.тАЭ He took the chair in front of my desk. His clothes, dated
and slightly formal, carried the faint scent of pipe smoke. It added an exotic feel to
my rather staid office.
There are, perhaps, a thousand P.I.s in LA, which is why I left. I took all my
ready cash and set up shop in Nevada, where the land and the rents are cheaper by
hundredsтАФsometimes thousandsтАФof dollars. I set up a fancy officeтАФplush blue
upholstered chairs, matching carpet, framed prints on the wall, all-important
air-conditioning, and room for my part-time secretary in the months I needed her. I
had hoped it would give clients the idea that I was well-offтАФa woman who knew
what she was doing. It helped with tourists. But I got the sense that this man was not
a tourist.
тАЬSo,тАЭ I said again. тАЬHow may I help you?тАЭ
тАЬYou may find my banjo.тАЭ
Whatever I had expected, it wasnтАЩt this. тАЬYour banjo?тАЭ
тАЬIt may sound trivial to you, Miss,тАЭ he said. тАЬBut to me, it is of the utmost
importance.тАЭ
I folded my hands on my clean desk. I hadnтАЩt had a client in weeks, and the
last had been a skip-trace out of Vegas. Certainly not the most interesting kind of
case, nor the most lucrative. тАЬWhat is it, a collectorтАЩs item?тАЭ
He smiled, and I saw a flash of that once-powerful charm. тАЬItтАЩs one of a
kind.тАЭ
тАЬPictures, records, serial number?тАЭ
тАЬNo, none.тАЭ He waved a hand, dismissing my comment. тАЬIt was made by my