Blackwater Sound. James Hall
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Название: Blackwater Sound

Автор: James Hall

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Триллеры

Серия:

isbn: 9780007439775

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ Peretti. Both of them seventy-two years old. Longtime buddies.

      Lawton had on his yellow Bermudas with a blue sleeveless T-shirt, nicely weathered by paint specks from projects over the years. His daughter, Alex, said that outfit made him look like a trailer park derelict and tried to dress him better. But the clothes were comfortable and they reminded him of things from the past. Things he couldn’t name, but he could still sense them when he put on those clothes. So he wore them as often as Alexandra would allow.

      Lawton Collins held the box on his lap like Arnold had told him. Everybody at the table was aware of it, like the thing was glowing. Lawton didn’t know what was inside it, but it was as heavy as a goddamn box of rocks.

      Across the booth from them were a couple in their late twenties, early thirties, Charlie and Brandy. Good-looking young folks. Especially the girl. Charlie had a two-day beard, the shadow of dark bristles covering his cheeks.

      The four of them had been sitting there quietly since the food arrived. Waiting for somebody to break the ice.

      So Lawton said, ‘You know what Harry Houdini’s real name was?’

      The two young people stared at him.

      ‘It was Erik Weisz,’ Lawton told them. ‘Houdini’s family came from Hungary. He did his first trick at six years of age. Made a dried pea appear in any one of three overturned cups.’

      The young man gave Lawton a careful look.

      ‘What’s wrong with this guy?’ Charlie said.

      ‘Nothing’s wrong with him. He’s getting old. Same as me.’

      ‘What’s this shit about Houdini?’

      ‘I like Houdini,’ Lawton said.

      ‘He likes Houdini,’ Arnold said. ‘So there.’

      Lawton smiled at the young woman. Brandy was her name. She had a large smile and even larger breasts.

      ‘Me and Arnold go way back,’ Lawton said. ‘In the old days I used to bust him about twice a year. Didn’t I, Arnold?’

      ‘Like clockwork,’ Arnold said.

      ‘You’re kidding me. This guy’s a cop?’

      ‘Used to be,’ said Arnold. ‘A good one, too.’

      ‘Yes, sir, I was a cop and now I’ve got a daughter in law enforcement. She’s a photographer for the City of Miami Police Department. Crime scenes, corpses, bullet wounds, blood spatters, gore. You name it, she snaps it.’

      Charlie frowned.

      ‘I don’t like this, Peretti. Some fruitcake listening in.’

      ‘Hey,’ Lawton said. ‘I may be retired, but I still got full arrest powers.’

      ‘Yeah, right,’ Charlie said. ‘Cardiac arrest.’

      Brandy giggled, then caught herself and tried to look serious.

      ‘Look, Charlie, not that it’s any of your business,’ Arnold said, ‘but after we’re done here, me and Lawton are going fishing. I’m looking after him today.’

      Charlie closed his mouth and shook his head. The shit he had to endure.

      ‘I think he’s cute,’ the girl said. ‘You hear, Lawton? I think you’re cute.’

      Lawton let go of the box and extended his left hand across the narrow table and cupped the girl’s right breast, lightly feeling its contour. Lawton knew how to touch a woman. He’d never been rough, even when he was young and full of fever. Her breast was round as a honeydew and just as solid.

      ‘Hey!’ Charlie said. ‘Watch it, asshole!’

      Brandy drew back carefully, easing out of Lawton’s grasp. She flattened herself against the leather seat, trying to keep her smile together.

      Charlie Harrison leaned halfway across the table.

      ‘Touch her again, old man, you’re dead meat. You hear me?’

      ‘Relax,’ Arnold said. ‘He’s confused, that’s all. He makes mistakes.’

      ‘I’m cracked,’ Lawton said. ‘That’s what they say. Loopy doopy. There’s a name for it, but I forget.’

      ‘Jesus,’ Charlie said. ‘You okay, Brandy?’

      ‘I’m fine, I’m fine. Leave him alone, Charlie. He’s okay.’

      ‘Cracked,’ Lawton said. ‘But still full of beans.’

      Everyone was quiet for a minute, eyes wandering the room, trying to put the moment behind them.

      Truth was, even in his heyday, Lawton Collins’s brain had never been what you’d call razor sharp. For one thing, he’d always been lousy with time stuff. Most of his life, you could ask him the day of the week, he’d have to puzzle on it a while. Season of the year was the same thing. But that was partly Miami’s fault. Anywhere else in the world, somebody asked you what month it was, you looked out the window, you could tell. Leaves turning gold, snow on the ground, jonquils blooming. But in Miami, windows were useless. January looked exactly like June and August was the same as November.

      Back in his police days, faces were Lawton’s strength. Faces and the names attached to them. But that other stuff, time and dates, chronologies, what happened when, he was never good with that. Like he’d gotten a head start on old age. So when all the rest of the stuff started evaporating in his head, like the fizz going out of a soft drink, it took Lawton and everybody else, even his daughter Alexandra, a good while to notice anything strange was happening.

      Right then it was lunchtime, Wednesday. Easter coming up. Beyond the curtained windows the sky was full of juicy spring light, while the interior of Neon Leon’s Riverside Café was as murky as an underwater cave, most of the light coming from one big-screen TV that was tuned in to a pro wrestling match.

      Charlie had another tug on his beer, wiped his mouth, and fixed his glare on the box in Lawton’s lap like he was cranking up his X-ray vision.

      ‘So that’s it?’ Charlie said. ‘You got it.’

      ‘Like I promised,’ Arnold said. ‘My word’s my bond.’

      ‘So what do you want from me, Arnold? Credit report? Take a polygraph, what?’

      Arnold said nothing. Just eyed the young man in that leisurely way he had.

      The boy was wearing khaki slacks and a blue button-down. A long way from the scruffy crowd around the rest of the bar. Tattoos and pierced eyelids everywhere you looked. Ratty T-shirts and torn jeans.

      Brandy was silent, smiling nervously at Lawton. Brandy had on a shapeless shirt of pale green and baggy jeans. But the clothes didn’t conceal her. Already several of the guys at the bar had quit watching the wrestling match, swiveling their stools around to give Brandy their total attention.

      ‘Always СКАЧАТЬ