"Destroyer 036 - Power Play.pdb" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Remo)

"He's a mail order fraud of a minister from California. But he's got a lot of money, he's always on the television and he'll get you and your story in every paper and on every television broadcast from coast to coast. Instant stardom. And then the silver screen."
Flamma smiled. "I'm ready," she said. She opened the buttons of her trenchcoat. Bobbin looked over, gulped, and reached to button them back up.
"Hey, this is Middle America," he said. "Hold that."
"Okay," she said. "Reverend Muckley, you say?"
"Yes."
"I'll be very nice to him. Very, very nice."
"No, no," Bobbin said. "That's just what I don't want."
"What don't you want?" Flamma asked.
"I don't want you giving him any," Bobbin said. "Keep him sniffing around you to keep him interested. But don't give him any."
He seemed very sure of himself and Flamma said "I understand," but she didn't understand at all. Everything she had ever gotten in life, she had gotten by giving some away. Maybe twenty years ago, you kept a man interested by not giving him any, but now you kept a man interested by giving him some right away and making sure it was good. Because if not you, someone else.
But she decided to trust Will Bobbin. She had to. He was her only chance into the movies right now.
Bobbin ushered her into Reverend Muckley's office past the secretary who glared at them coolly, as if sensing that underneath the tan trenchcoat was a threat to her own 38-22-36 supremacy.
Muckley gulped when Flamma stood in front of his desk, smiling at him. He insisted that Bobbin wait outside because he wanted to verify for himself the accuracy of the woman's story.
Bobbin waited on a soft chair in the outer office. He heard the sound of footfalls inside Muckley's office. He heard furniture being moved. So did the secretary. She went to Muckley's office door and turned the knob. The door was locked. She swore to herself and went back to her desk without looking at Bobbin.
A few moments later, the door was unlocked and opened a crack. Flamma winked at Bobbin. "Okay," she called. "I'm doing what you said." She ran from the door, slamming it behind her. Bobbin heard the sound of Reverend Muckley whooping.
After another five minutes, Flamma opened the door and gestured Bobbin to come inside. Muckley was behind his desk, panting heavily. Disappointment shrouded his face. As Bobbin came in, Flamma whispered, "It's all right. But it was close."
"I have checked this young lady's story," Muckley panted, "to my own satisfaction."
"And?"
"And I think it is just what we need to show the people of this area what a sex-drenched beast like Weston Price has in mind for them. I will call the television people here this afternoon."
"All right," Bobbin said. "And Flamma, I'm out of it, remember?"
She nodded. "I know. I read that the Reverend Muckley was here and I volunteered to help him in his battle against the antichrist because I saw the light and realized that what Wesley was planning to do was evil."
Bobbin nodded. "You might tell the television men that Pruiss was going to make a dirty movie with you in it, but that you didn't want stardom that way. You'd pass up stardom if it had to come that way."
"For stardom, I'd eat dogshit in the street," Flamma said.
"I know that and you know that," Bobbin said. "But trust me. Do it my way. It'll make you more mysterious and the movie offers will come pouring in. You'll see."
"Keen," she said.
"And leave me out of it," Bobbin said.
"Cool," said Flamma.
"Of course," said Reverend Muckley.

CHAPTER NINE
"Chiun, I'm confused," Remo said.
"Birds fly and fish swim," Chiun said.
"Meaning?"
"Why are you always surprised when things follow their natural order?" Chiun said. "Who is a better person to be confused than you?"
"If you're going to be snotty, I'll take my problem somewhere else."
"Proceed," said Chiun majestically.
"I don't have any lead on this assassin. Theodosia says oil people but I don't know. I've got Smith checking out Rachmed, who's a sleazy creep. And there's that illiterate minister in town. I don't know."
"It is not unusual," Chiun said.
"Dammit, Chiun, this is important. Will you stop trying to score points off me?"
"All right. I apologize."
"Apologize?" said Remo. "You actually said apologize?"
"Yes."
"That's the first time you ever apologized for anything," Remo said.
He sat back on the bed in his room, staring in wonderment at Chiun who stood against in front of the open window, practicing his shallow breathing exercises.
"Perhaps I never had a reason before to apologize," Chiun said.
"In more than ten years, you think this is the first time you've owed me an apology?"
"Yes," Chiun said. "But I didn't realize you were going to be so ungracious about it. Consider it withdrawn."
"Too late," Remo said. "I already accepted it."
Chiun shrugged and kept looking out the window. Remo shook his head. Something was wrong. Chiun would fight for hours, normally before giving up on a major point like an apology. Something was on his mind.
"Chiun, what do you know about this assassin? What about the silver knife with the horse on it? What aren't you telling me?"