"Charles Stross - Merchant princes 02 - The Hidden Family" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

"He was worrying about roofing costs, I imagine." Matthias shrugged again,
almost imperceptibly. "If he even knew about it. After all, what does security
matter if the building caves in?"

"If." The duke frowned. "That slime-weasel Oliver is in Baroness Hildegarde's
pocket, you mark my words. An unfortunate coincidence that they can both deny
responsibility for, and Helge, Miriam as she calls herself, is left facing
assassins? It's almost insultingly convenient She's getting slackтАФwe shall have
to teach her a lesson in manners."

"What are your orders regarding your niece, my lord? Since she appears to have
run away, like her mother before her, she could be found in breach of the
compactтАФ"

"No, no need for that just yet." The duke walked slowly back to his desk, his
expression showing little sign of the stiffness is his joints. "Let her move
freely for now." He lowered himself into his chair and stared at Matthias. "I
expect to hear about her movements by and by. Has she made any attempt to get in
touch?"

"With us? I've heard no messages, my lord." Matthias raised one hand, scratched
an itch alongside his nose. "What do you think she'll do?"

"What do / think?" The duke opened his mouth, as if about to laugh. "She's not a
trained security professional, boy. She might do anything! But she is a trained
investigative journalist, and if she's true to her instincts, she'll start
digging." He began to smile. "I really want to see what she uncovers."

Meanwhile, in a city called Boston in a country called the United States: -

"You know something?" asked Paulette. "When I told you to buy guns and drive
fast I wasn't, like, expecting you to actually do that." She put her coffee cup
down, half-drained. There were dark hollows under her eyes, but apart from that
she was as tidy as ever, not a hair out of place. Which, Miriam reflected, left
her looking a bit like a legal secretary: short, dark, Italianate subtype.

Miriam shook her head. / wish I could keep it together the way she does, she
thought. "You said, and I quote from memory, 'As your attorney I am advising you
to buy guns and drive fast.' Right?" She smiled tiredly at Paulette. Her own
coffee cup was untouched. When she'd arrived at the other woman's house with
Brilliana d'Ost in tow, the release of tension had her throwing up in the
bathroom toilet. Paulette's wisecrack was in poor tasteтАФMiriam had actually
killed a man less than twenty-four hours ago in self-defense, and now things
were starting to look really messy.

"What's an attorney?" asked Brill, sitting up on the sofa, prim and attentive:
nineteen or twenty, blond, and otherworldly in the terrifyingly literal way that
only a Clan member could be.