"Norman Spinrad - He Walked Among Us" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spinrad Norman)тАЬYeah, well...." Inside the lobby, a gray-haired and somewhat stooped clerk managed to remain standing behind a heavily-revarnished front desk that might have once looked like cheap walnut veneer. A dining room behind closed glass doors to the left. On the right, the open entrance to the hotel nightclub, labeled тАЬKapplemeyer's Fabulous Sunset RoomтАЭ in peeling gilt letters. Three old duffers in leisure suits and two old ladies stuffed into hideous pastel capris comprised the lobby life. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html тАЬWhat are wedoing in this shithole?тАЭ Sabrina hissed in Jimmy's ear as they approached the desk. тАЬI told you, it'sbusiness ,тАЭ Jimmy snapped back. тАЬYessir,тАЭ said the desk clerk in a tired wheeze, тАЬcan I help you?" I hope so, Texas Jimmy thought, observing the ever-more skeptical pout souring Sabrina's bee-stung lips. He had taken the precaution, didn't everyone, of schtuping the hotel desk in New York twenty to book this room for him. Tell тАШem that I'm a big time agent from Hollywood don't want to be disturbed by no papparrazi, their discretion will be appreciated, had been his instructions. It was the truth, wasn't it? тАЬI've got a reservation,тАЭ he said. тАЬName of Balaban...." тАЬTexas JimmyBalaban?тАЭ said the desk clerk, emerging from his coma. Jimmy smiled patronizingly, glancing sidewise at Sabrina, whose eyes had widened, whose pout had softened. тАЬThe one, the only,тАЭ he said. тАЬWe've reserved the Presidential Suite for you, Mr. BalabanтАФ" тАЬHey, I didn'tтАФ" тАЬтАФno extra charge, of course, compliments of the management." Sabrina breathed a wordless Wow. That had been the point. But the freebie upgrade had been more than Jimmy had hoped for. тАЬWell that's mighty nice, and I do appreciate it,тАЭ he said. He leaned closer, nodded in the direction of Sabrina, slid a twenty across the desk with an exaggeratedly surreptitious gesture, winked at the clerk. тАЬBut if anyone asks, I'm not here, the room is registered to Joseph P. Blow, get me?" Large the Presidential Suite was: a living room with a bay window overlooking the deserted tennis courts and the woodlands beyond, a big bedroom with a king-sized bed, a monster bathroom with double sink, tub, and separate shower stall. The air within, however, was stale as Joe Miller's Joke Book, the plush living room furniture exuded a dusty odor that a quick once-over with a vacuum cleaner couldn't hide, the first rush of water in the toilet taps was a rusty brown, and there was a tell-tale rime at the water-line in the toilet bowl. |
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