"De Noux, O'Neil -Lucien Caye - Friscoville" - читать интересную книгу автора (De Noux O'Neil)

......."How old are you?"
......."Eight and a half exactly. I was born New Year's Day, 1940.
This is July first, so I'm exactly eight and a half." She punctuated
it with a nod of her head.
.......I looked through the venetian blinds out at Cabrini
Playground across the street and said, "Where do you live?"
......."Almost next door." She pointed up Barracks Street.
......."Your mother know you're here?"
......."Heavens no."
.......It was at that moment I knew I was hooked. The way she said,
"Heavens no" floored me. I pulled a notepad out of my desk and
starting writing - Amy. Calico. Two years old. Missing since
Tuesday.
......."Um," she said, "how much do you charge? I have seventy-six
cents. Is that enough?"
***.......
.......The French Quarter smells old, even with a breeze filtering
in from the river on a bright spring morning. It's one of the things
I like best about living and working here - the familiar musty smell
of old buildings.
.......Stepping out of my office with Miss Vivian Hartley, into the
bright sunlight, I slipped on my sunglasses and took in a deep
breath of musty air. Across the street the breeze rustled the
branches of the oaks and the thick leaves of the magnolia trees.
.......I walked the little miss home, up to her wooden shotgun
double with its three small front steps at 925 Barracks Street. I
hoped to meet Vivian's mother, figuring if the kid's that pretty,
the original should be quite a looker. Vivian went in through the
wooden louvered door. I waited, running my hands through my dark
wavy hair.
.......Vivian came back and said, "She's not here. She went to the
grocery."
.......I told her I was going to canvass now.
......."You'll keep me posted, won't you?" She sure had a way with
words, for an eight year old.
.......I told her of course, loosened my tan tie, which matched my
pleated tan suit pants and tan-and-white wingtips, and walked up to
Burgundy Street to begin my canvass. I worked my way back down
Barracks, knocking on every door. Nobody had seen Amy. At least
someone was home at each house, except the other half of the double
where Vivian lived.
.......I stopped when I reached the bookstore at the corner of
Barracks and Dauphine. In the same two-story building as my office,
the dusty bookstore was run by a lanky ex-fireman named John who
hadn't seen Amy either. I leaned against one of the black wrought
iron posts that supported the lacework balcony running along the
second floor and wrapped around the corner of our brick building.
Some of the masonry that covered the brick had worn away. I liked
that. My office was at 909 Barracks. I lived upstairs in Apartment
B.