"Spoor,.Ryk.E.-.Digital.Knight" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spoor Ryk E)

"Wood's Information SerЧ"
"Hello, Wood."
I knew that gravel-scraping voice, even though it usually didn't call before the night shift. "Hi, Elias. I've got your photos done."
"Anything good?"
"Let's just say that I'll be real surprised if we aren't electing a new Assemblyman soon."
He laughed, a quick explosive chortle. "With an attitude like that, I don't see you getting on jury duty, that's for sure. Listen, I'll be over to pick 'em up soon. 'Bout an hour and a half good?"
"Sure thing, Elias."
I needed a little break from bloodsucking freaks anyway. I pulled the envelope from the safe, rechecking the pictures on disk against the negatives. By the time my recheck was done, dusk and Elias were here. "Hey there, Jase," he said, ducking slightly as he entered. He really didn't have toЧthe doorway's seven feet high and he's six foot sixЧbut it was a habit he had. Add a gangly frame, a sharp-edged nose, black hair, black eyes, and a slight stoop; Elias Klein always reminded me of a youthful buzzard. He came into my office to get a quick look. He liked them all, until we got to the last one.
"Nice joke, Jason."
"What do you mean, joke? It looks pretty good to me."
"Oh, sure, Assemblyman Connors looks just lovely. But without Verne Domingo to complete the picture it's nothing but a publicity shot."
I pointed to the next to last. "What about that one? They're swapping right there, what more could you ask for?"
"That's just a second-string doper, Jason! Domingo's the big man, and that is the photo that should show him."
I shrugged. "Too bad. Next time make sure he's in the picture."
"Don't give me that, Wood! I know he was in that shot, I was the one looking through the viewfinder."
I handed him the negative. "Look for yourself."
He stared at it. "What the hell?" Then he swung towards me. "Wood, you'd better not be dicking around with the evidence! I've been on this for eight fucking months, and if you'reЧ"
"Oh, cut the tough cop act, Elias. Kojak you ain't. You know damn well that I only play jokes, I don't really mess with my clients' stuff. If I did, would the city PD be paying me ten grand a year? That negative is the one you gave me and it's in the same shape as it was when it got here."
"But that's impossible." Elias glared at the negative as though a hard stare would make the missing figure materialize. "If you look through the viewfinder of an SLR, what you see is what you get. Besides, dammit, look at your own enhancement. He's got his mouth half open, saying something, and he's about to shake hands. Then look at that angle. Do you put your hand out twenty feet from the guy you're going to shake with?"
"Nope." I was mystified now. Then a quote spun across my mind: "This time there could be no error, for the man was close to me, and I could see him over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of him in my mirror!"
I took the negative and stared at it again. "You're right, Elias. Mr. Domingo should have been in this picture. That leaves only one explanation."
He looked at me. "And that is . . . ?"
"That you are dealing with someone whose image doesn't appear on films."
Elias didn't like that at all, but he had to admit that I had no motive to screw around with the negatives. "So what are you suggesting? He has some kind of Star Trek cloaking device that wipes his image off film? I won't swallow it."
"Trust me, Elias, you don't want to know what I think. Since this negative is worthless as is, mind if I keep it? Maybe there's some kind of latent image I could bring up."
"Dammit, Jason! Tell me what isЧ" He broke off, having caught sight of the pile of books and papers on the desk.
He looked at them. He picked them up, examined them. Looked at me. "And Reisman said . . ." he began, then stopped. He glanced at the negative again. Back at me. A long pause. "You're right." he said finally. "I don't want to know. Keep the negative." He grabbed his hat and sunglasses, left quickly.
I went back to typing.
The phone rang again.
"Hello, Jason," said Sylvie. "What have you heard?"
"Enough. I apologize for doubting you, Sylvie. We've either got ourselves a real honest-to-God vampire here, or someone who is doing his level best to fake it. And with the technical problems of faking some of this, I'd rather believe in a vampire than in a faker." I glanced down. "And I think I've found our bloodsucker, too." I gave her a quick rundown on Klein's negative.
"But, Jason, isn't that an incredible coincidence?"
"I thought so myself, at first. But I've been thinking, and it isn't as far out as it first seems. In most legit businesses you have to do business in daylight hours at some point. Maybe a vampire can live in a musty coffin underground all the time, but I'll bet they sure don't want to. They want all the creature comforts they can enjoy and that means money. So they'll just naturally gravitate to the 'shady' side of commerce, pardon the pun. And with their natural advantages, it isn't surprising at all that one might be high up on the ladder."
"I hadn't thought of it that way. But drug deals happen in the day, too."
"But if you've got muscle to back you up you can get away with a lot of odd quirks. Avoiding sunlight might be possible."
"True. And, by the way, apology accepted. I've been calling around and getting my better occult acquaintances on the alert. They'll see what they can find."
"Good." Privately, I didn't expect much from Sylvie's pals. Sylvie herself might have something, but most of the people who visited the Silver Stake were your typical muddled New-Age escapists who confused Tolkien and Shirley MacLaine with real life. "I'm working on something here that might help. Stop by after you're done, okay?"
"Sure thing, Jason. Just promise me no more bodies, huh?"
"I make no guarantees. Bodies never consult me before arriving. See you."
"Bye."
It was eight-ten by the time I finished. Then I put WISDOM to work. Wood's Information Service Database Online Manager can analyze information using many different methods. WISDOM was instructed to examine the information on all different kinds of vampires to construct the most likely abilities that an actual vampire might be expected to possess. It took WISDOM only a few minutes to do its calculations. I sat down and read. It was grim reading.



3
"What in the world are you doing?" Sylvie asked.
I put down the loading kit. "Preparing. I figure that if I'm going to deal with a vampire, I'd better have something other than conventional ammo."
She picked up a cartridge. "Silver? I thought I read somewhere that you actually couldn't make silver bullets; something about balance?"
"I heard that too, but it's a silly statement on the face of it. Lead's softer and just as heavy, and they've been making bullets from lead as long as they've been making guns." I checked the fit of another bullet. "Not that I expect those to be of much use. WISDOM only gave a twenty-five-percent chance of a vulnerability to silver. That seems more of a werewolf thing."
She examined the other kinds of ammo. "Well, I'll say this for you, you have one heck of an assortment." She reached into her purse, pulled out a small wooden box. "Here, Jason."