"Timothy Zahn - The Green and the Gray" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zahn Timothy)

Across the room, the doorbell chimed. "Here they are," Roger said, standing up. "They made better
time than I expected."
"Wait," Caroline said suddenly, jumping to her feet and grabbing his arm. "Are we sure that is the
police?"
Roger stopped short, a fresh chill running across his skin. "Stay here," he said, dropping the gun into
his pocket and moving past the front door into the kitchen. The bell rang again as he pulled a carving
knife from Caroline's knife rack and returned to the door.
The two men he could see through the peephole certainly looked like cops. "Who is it?" he called.
"Police," a muffled voice said. "You called in a foundling report?"
Roger got a good grip on his knife. "I'm going to open the door," he said, making sure the chain was
secure. "I want to see your identification."
He opened the door a crack, fully expecting the heavy wood to come crashing back at him as the two
men tried to break it down. Instead, a hand eased gingerly through the gap holding a police badge
and ID card for his inspection.
Roger gazed at the card a moment, uncomfortably aware that he didn't have the slightest idea what a
real police ID looked like. But he had called them, and there wasn't much he could do now but hope
they were genuine. "Thanks," he said. "Hang on, and I'll unchain it."
The hand withdrew, and he closed the door. Caroline's knickknack shelf was a step to the right;
hurriedly sliding the knife out of sight behind one of the enameled plates, he unchained the door and


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The Green and the Gray

opened it.
The two cops looked like they'd walked off the set of a TV show: one of them burly and Caucasian,
with the look of long experience etched into his face, the other young and Hispanic and barely out of
rookiehood. "I'm Officer Kern," the older cop identified himself, his eyes resting on Caroline a
moment and then taking a quick sweep of the living room behind her. "This is Officer Hernandez.
You said you'd found a missing girl?"
"That's right," Roger said. "At least, we assume she's missing. There was this mugger in an alley on
101st StreetтАФ"
"Only he wasn't actually a mugger," Caroline interjected. "He wanted us to take her andтАФ"
"Quiet!" Roger cut her off as a soft thud came from somewhere behind him. "What was that?"
"What was what?" Caroline asked tautly.
"I didn't hear anything," Kern said.
"Something went clunk," Roger said grimly, heading for the bedroom. "Like someone getting hit on
the head."
He thought he was hurrying; but even so, both cops got to the bedroom door ahead of him. "Stay
here," Kern ordered, his gun ready in his hand. Turning the knob, he shoved it violently open.
Hernandez was ready, diving through and ducking to the left. Kern was right behind him, breaking to
the right. The closet light was still on, and from the doorway Roger could clearly see the bed and his
coat lying open and rumpled.
The girl was gone.
"The balcony!" Caroline said in a shaking voice, pointing over Roger's shoulder at the sliding door.
"The broomstick's been moved."
"And the latch is open," Roger said grimly. "They've got her out there!"
Kern grunted something as both cops made for the sliding door. Hernandez got there first, shoving
the door open and disappearing onto the balcony, the older cop right on his heels. Clenching his
teeth, Roger followed, the cold air cutting across his damp shirt like a late-June breaker at Coney