Blitz
- Автор: Бруен Кен
- Серия: Inspector Brant #4
- Год: 2002
- Язык: английский
- Год: The Do-Not Press
- ISBN: 978-1-904316-00-8
- Жанр: Полицейские детективы
Электронная книга - «Blitz». Краткое содержание книги:
‘Yes, he is.’
He could smell her perfume and it was making him dizzy. Porter realised he couldn’t think straight. For one awful moment, he felt she was going to link his arm. Now she asked,
‘And your mum, doesn’t she, like... mind?’
He laughed out loud, more from hysteria than humour. Brant said,
‘See, Porter — you’re having yourself a time.’
Porter glared, said,
‘I’ll talk to you later.’
Then back to Kim, answered,
‘My mother is dead.’
‘Oh, that’s handy.’
Then she giggled, put her hand to her mouth, said,
‘Oh my God, I didn’t mean...’
‘It’s okay. How did you...’ — he was going to say hook up with — ‘...meet Sergeant Brant?’
More giggles, then:
‘He found my name in a phone booth.’
Whatever else, Porter admired her total lack of shame. They’d got to the hotel and she said,
‘I’d love a Babycham, but not many places sell them these days. Do you remember them?’
‘Yes, I do.’
She settled for a vodka and white. Brant had moved into the crowd and Porter wondered if he’d be stuck with Kim for the day. She gave him an intense look, said,
‘Don’t worry, I won’t be hanging out of you.’
‘I didn’t think...’
‘Yes, you did. Men are so obvious. If they get crossed, their faces get that tantrum expression.’
Her eyes scanned the crowd and she said,
‘Believe me, I’m never alone long in a hotel.’
The dinner was the usual rip-off: limp chicken and salad, followed by dead dessert. No one was complaining, thanks mainly to the gallons of wine that were at hand. Then the speeches began, droning on for over an hour. Finally, Nash senior thanked his guests, near gushed about his beautiful bride and made no mention of his son. Porter checked his watch. Ten minutes tops, then he was leaving.
Brant was chatting to the barman when Porter’s father approached, said,
‘Let me get you a drink, Sergeant.’
‘Sure, a scotch will do it.’
They got that and Brant said,
‘Chin chin, congratulations and all that.’
Nash was staring, said,
‘You seem an unlikely person to be a friend of... my son?’
‘How would you know?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I could be wrong but I’d say you know fuck all about your son.’
Nash tensed, his body language moving into attack mode. Brant smiled and Nash willed himself to ease down, said,
‘You surprise me, Sergeant, I wouldn’t have taken you for a fag hag.’
Brant signalled to the barman for refills, asked,
‘You’ll be on that Viagra, yeah?’
Nash forced himself to smile though rage suffused him, said,
‘That’s a cheap shot, Sergeant.’
Brant waved a hand towards the crowd, said,
‘Despite the flash hotel, you’re a cheap kind of guy.’
Nash knew he should just walk away. He’d never be able to score points with this animal but a stubbornness kept him there and he tried another tack, said,
‘I’ve been in business for a lot of years, I’m a pretty good judge of people. You ever get tired of being a flatfoot, you’d do well to consider the private sector.’
Brant finished his drink, took a step away from the bar, asked,
‘Are you offering me a job?’
‘A man like you, Sergeant, you’d do well.’
Brant seemed to be considering it and Nash decided to sweeten the pot, said,
‘I’d help you find accommodation on this side of the river. You’d like it over here.’
‘Tell you what, you ask anyone, they’ll tell you. I’m an arseshole, but work for you? Even I’m not that big an asshole.’
‘At my signal, unleash hell.’
Russell Crowe