"Альфред Бестер. The Flowered Thundermug (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

claret.

Sergeants Brophy and Albert, the footmen, alternately
opened the front door for each other with much elaborate
formality as they took turns going out to mail letters.
Detective Kennedy painted the garage. Detective Edna May Oliver
hung the bedding out the upstairs windows to air. And at
frequent intervals Sergeant Begley (chef) chased Sergeant
Mayhoff (second chef) through the house with a meat cleaver.

At 2300 hours, Inspector Robinson put the salver down and
yawned prodigiously. The cue was picked up by his staff, and
the entire mansion echoed with yawns. In the living room,
Inspector Robinson undressed, put on a nightgown and nightcap,
lit a candle and extinguished the lights. He put out the
library lights, leaving only the pin spot focused on the safe
dial. Then he trudged upstairs. In other parts of the house his
staff also changed to nightgowns, and then joined him. The Webb
home was dark and silent.

An hour passed; a clock chimed twenty-four. A loud clank
sounded from the direction of Skouras Drive.

"The front gate," Ed whispered.

"Someone's coming in," Ed said.

"It's the Artsy-Craftsy Kid," Ed added.

"Keep your voices down!"

"Right, Chief."

There was a crunch-crunch-crunch of gravel.

"Coming up the front drive," Ed muttered.

"Oh, he's a deep one," Ed said.

The gravel noises changed to mushy sounds.

"Crossing the flower border," Ed said.

"You got to hand it to him," Ed said.

There was a dull thud, a stumble and an imprecation.

"Stepped into a flowerpot," Ed said.

There came a series of thuddy noises at irregular