"S. Andrew Swann - Zimmerman's Algorithm" - читать интересную книгу автора (Swann S Andrew)

came here because it's what Rafe would want. It was a mistake. I'm not that strong." Her hands balled up
into fists, and she pounded them at her sides as she paced in front of the bed.
"I look at you, and I don't see Rafe's little brother. I see the man who took my husband away."
Gideon looked down. He could feel the pulse in his neck, and acid burned in his stomach.
"Rafe would have hated thisтАФthat I can't forgive youтАФbut I can't help but see that as your fault too."
"Maybe we should talk aboutтАФ"
"Talk? Talk about what? How you lured Rafe here from a safe desk job, and led him in front of a
firing squad?" Monica shook her head. "If you want to talk, talk to the vultures outside. It was a mistake for
me to come here."
She forced her way past a cop pushing an empty wheelchair into the room. The guy looked over his
shoulder at Monica leaving, then rolled the chair into the room. "Your ride home's here, Detective
Malcolm."
Vultures? Gideon thought.


They wheeled him out to a waiting patrol car. He was wearing sweats the hospital provided, and he had
a pair of crutches propped between his knees.
They had barely gotten him out of the door, when he was confronted with a sea of faces. Microphones
and lenses aimed at Gideon as an officer forced a path through the throng. An orderly pushed his
wheelchair after the cop, toward the patrol car.
The journey between the doors and the waiting car was only a matter of yards, but with the reporters in
their way,. the passage seemed interminable. All of them shouted questions, talking over each other, not
even leaving space for breath between them, much less an answer.
"Can you confirm that there's a wrongful death suit being filed against the Treasury Department?"
"Are you going to testify that the Secret Service fired first?"
"The President has promised 'a full investigation,' do you have any comments?"
"Do you intend to continue working for the D.C. Police Department?"
"Do you think there should be a criminal investigation of the agents involved?"
It was worse when they actually reached the car, and Gideon had to maneuver out of the chair and into
the passenger seat. He felt vulnerable and under attack. He held his head down and tried not to listen. He
stared at the progress of his feet across the asphalt. He pushed himself along with the crutches, the
reporters just barely staying out of his way.
"How do you feel about your brother's death?"
Did someone actually ask that?
He managed to get both legs inside, and the orderly slammed the door shut. Gideon watched out the
window and saw the orderly disappear in the onrush of people.
Microphones knocked on the windows as the driver tried to pull away. He was forced to use his siren
and rev the engine threateningly to move reporters out of the way. Even so, he had to drive out of the
parking lot at a crawl to avoid bowling over the press.
Gideon looked out the window and stared at the reporters as they passed. Some were still shouting
questions, as if they, somehow expected an answer. Gideon felt a pit inside himself and whispered, "I didn't
know it was this bad." He wasn't referring to just the reporters. The driver shrugged and blew the siren
again.


The police car went to Dupont Circle and took P Street northwest, toward the fringes of Georgetown. To
his father's house. The place Gideon lived was better than most detectivesтАФespecially D.C. detectives.
When his father had died, he had left Gideon and Raphael the house and some money. He and Rafe had
come to an agreement; Gideon had bought Rafe's share of the house with Gideon's share of the money.
As the police car rolled up to his house, Gideon realized that he felt guilty about that.