"Carrol, Jonathan - Fish In A Barrel (txt)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Carroll Jonathan)

"There wasn't even a name on the door or anything."

"People find us if they want to. We're a government agency. It just takes a
little looking."

"I found you."

Always the diplomat, Kropik smiled warmly. "You certainly did."

Suddenly the boy seemed at a loss for words. People who came to this room were
often speechless. Or exhausted. Angry. Hysterical. Rarely calm. In fact few calm
people entered this place besides Kropik and Aoyagi. But both of them were
employees so they didn't count.

"I don't remember my mother. She died when I was really young."

Kropik stood up and shuffled over to a filing cabinet across the room. He wore a
pair of tartan wool bedroom slippers from L.L. Bean which looked enough like
street shoes to pass for street shoes, or so he thought. In truth he looked like
an old man shlumping around in a pair of shabby bedroom slippers. But then
again, he was an old man and didn't pretend otherwise. Unlike his office-mate
Aoyagi with his "Grecian Formula" hair dye and gold doodad charm hanging from
the effeminate gold chain around his neck. Aoyagi was still trying to be a
swinger, but even a word like that in Kropik's active vocabulary defined what
decade he came from.

"Don't you want to know my name?"

"We already know."

In surprise, the boy's mouth twitched open and then quickly closed. He knew
where he was but still couldn't hide his shock that the old geezer knew who he
was without having to ask. "I just thought -- '

Already fingering through files in the cabinet, Kropik held up a hand to stop
him. "Details aren't necessary. It's all known." His favorite sentence. Forty
years on the job but still he never tired of saying those three words. Enjoyed
seeing the look on people's faces after he said them because the reactions
varied so greatly. Some swallowed like characters in a cartoon. You could see
their Adam's apple swell to the size of a PingPong ball and move slowly up and
down. All that was needed was a balloon over their head with the word "GULP!"
written in it to complete the picture. Or they looked away, acutely embarrassed
to realize there were no secrets in this office. Everything was known. Remember
that time in the bathroom when you thought you were alone? Or that inspired
(albeit illegal) trick you pulled with your mother's will? The dubious tax
return, the secret bank account, the XXX Internet addresses in Amsterdam you
dialed up at midnight when you thought no one was watching? Forget it someone
was watching. Your worst dream just came true. And how! Those were the people
who looked away. The Realizers. In a blaze of ugly trumpeting light they
realized that finding this office might help in one way, but was also going to