The Magdalen Martyrs
- Автор: Бруен Кен
- Серия: Jack Taylor #3
- Год: 2003
- Язык: английский
- Год: Brandon
- ISBN: 978-0-86322-302-0
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «The Magdalen Martyrs». Краткое содержание книги:
“Sorry, I’m out.”
“Give me something.”
“I told you, I’m tapped.”
She eyed the brown bag, pointed, and I said,
“Dream on.”
I moved past her and she hissed. I turned back. She was literally standing on my shadow. Throwing her head back, she drew saliva from the core of her being, spat on that dark shape, said,
“You will always break bread alone.”
I wanted to break her neck, but she moved fast away. I am no more superstitious than your average Irish guilt-ridden citizen. Using my shoe, I tried to erase the stain her spittle had left on the pavement. Nearly dropped the bottle, muttered,
“Now that would be cursed.”
Luc Sante in Low Life wrote:
The night is the corridor of history, not the history of famous people or great events, but that of the marginal, the ignored, the suppressed, the unacknowledged; the history of vice, of fear, of confusion, of error, of want, the history of intoxication, of vain-glory, of delusion, of dissipation, of delirium. It strips off the city’s veneer of progress and modernity and civilization and reveals the wilderness.
I said “Amen” to that.
Outside the hotel, I noticed a very impressive car. An elderly man was staring at it. He said,
“That’s an S-type Jaguar.”
“Is it yours?”
“No such luck.”
His eyes were shining as they took in the sleek black body. He said,
“The thing is, with all the power and luxury of a 3-litre V65-type at your disposal, even your business miles are positively a pleasure.”
He sounded like a commercial. I said,
“You sound like a commercial.”
He gave a shy smile, said,
“That baby doesn’t need a commercial.”
I made to move by and he said,
“Do you know how much that costs?”
“A lot, I should imagine.”
I could almost see the cash register in his eyes. He said,
“You’d need half a decent Lotto.”
I let out a low whistle, said,
“That’s got to be a lot.”
He gave me a look of bordering contempt, said,
“No, that is a lot of car!”
I went into the hotel, moving quickly to avoid reception. Not quite fast enough, as Mrs Bailey called,
“Mr Taylor.”
“Yeah.”
“You have a visitor.”
“Oh.”
I went into the lobby. Kirsten was sitting in a chair by the open fire. Dressed in black jeans, black sweater and long dark coat, she looked like trouble. Seeing me, she said,
“Surprise.”
The heat reflected on her cheeks gave her a high colour, as if she was excited. Maybe she was. She saw the bottle in my hand, said,
“Party for one?”
“Yeah.”
She stood up, and I hadn’t realised how tall she was. A smile as she said,
“Not a good idea to drink alone.”
“How would you know?”
“Oh, I know.”
The smart thing would have been to say,
“Hop it.”
When did I ever get to do the smart thing? I said,
“My room’s not much.”
Again the smile with,
“What makes you think I was expecting much?”
The elevators at Bailey’s have a life of their own. The only thing reliable about them is their unreliability. I pushed the button, said,
“This could take a while.”
“Stop bragging.”
Mrs Bailey smiled at us from the desk. I nodded and Kirsten said,
“She likes me.”
I turned to look at her, said,
“Don’t be so sure.”
“Oh, I am sure. I worked at it.”
“Is that what you do, you get people to like you?”
“Only some people.”
I couldn’t resist, asked,
“What about me?”
“That doesn’t need any work. You like me already.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“I have.”
The elevator arrived with a grinding of metal. I pulled the door open, asked,
“Want to risk it?”
“I insist on it.”
Naturally the space was cramped, and we were jammed together. I could smell her perfume, asked,
“Is that patchouli?”
“Yes.”
“Old hippies never die.”
She looked into my eyes, said,
“I guess that’s the bottle against me or else you’re happier to see me than you’re saying.”
There’s probably a reply to this. I didn’t have it.
“It is not an arbitrary decree of God but in the nature of man, that a veil
shuts down on the facts of tomorrow; for the soul will not have us read
any other cipher but that of cause and effect.”