"Chalker, Jack L - G.O.D. Inc 1 - Labyrinth of Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Chalker Jack L)

shit ain't for small-time P.I.'s, honey, or big-shot feds, either. It's
booby-hatch time."
"Shoot."
"Whitlock took a bunch of pills and shots and stuff, all right. Hormones, almost
certainly. Kept a whole medical kit in a private locker in the back of the
center, there. Whitlock money's been supportin' that place, almost. Thousands of
bucks' worth. They all swear that Whitlock's a she passin' as a he, not the
other way 'round, but several were there when she or he or whatever changed, and
they swear there's not a scar or stretch mark on that body, and that it had all
the right curves and moves, including average boobs that were strapped down in a
kind of corset that also filled out the upper body, made it look muscular. I
don't know much about transsexuals, but the people over there seem to know a
lot, and they swear that Whitlock was as natural-born a woman as they know. What
do you think of that?"
"I don't think. Not at this stage, anyway. So if that's true, then who fathered
those two kids of his? Besides, they aren't that old. I think Mrs. W. would have
noticed a lot sooner, at least by the honeymoon. Besides, I got on the phone
that he was a member of the Triangle Health Club, and that's rich men only. If
he went through that kind of operation, it'd take months and cost a fortune. He
couldn't cover it up that long and keep his regular schedule. Those things take
months before all those hormones kick in."
"Where'd you learn so much?"
"The National Enquirer. So I'd bet my booties that old Martin was a man until
just recently and would still be more castrated man than full-figured gal."
"They said this started more than two years ago, and they saw her then."
I nodded. "So this leads me to a deduction, Watson."
"We don't make enough to pay taxes now."
"Quiet. Us geniuses need clear heads. The only way I can figure that we have the
Marty Whitlock everybody knows and the female Marty down here is if there isn't
much kinky going on at all. You get an estimate of height and weight?"
"Hard to tell. She wore heels there, and dear old Honey noted that she wore real
finely made elevator shoes as a man. They all thought it was a great scam, and
they didn't look much closer because of the money."
"Few do. But the height?"
"Honey said, with heels, they were about the same height. Call it five ten."
I nodded. "Uh huh. And Marty was five ten as well. Now, if we assume that the
real Marty Whitlock didn't wear elevators, let alone heels, we can account for
maybe three inches."
"Brother and sister, maybe? Real close look-alikes?"
"Have to be real close. The trouble is, he does have two sisters, both accounted
for and neither one likely to be able to pass for him even with Hollywood
special effects working on his side."
"He could have just passed her once and seen the resemblance and got her on the
payroll. He'd have a hell of a good payroll. It'd beat workin'."
I considered it. "Maybe, but it's unlikely. The clue here is that she looked
enough like him to convince everybody down here that there was a masquerade.
Remember what Joey told us? As a woman, he looked like somebody totally
different, a real woman. Except for one thing, we've been led down a garden
path. Not only does he vanish into this sexual anywhere, but he leads us to a
point where it appears he's either a drag queen or a transsexual. Now, why?"