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

.......I went back to Vivian's and knocked on her door. She answered
and asked, "Have you found anything yet?"
......."No." I pointed to the other side of the double. "Who lives
next door?"
......."They moved." She let out a long sigh.
......."When?"
......."Day before yesterday."
.......I pulled out my notepad. "What's their name?"
.......I wrote the names Frank and Nettie Gumm on my pad, winked at
Vivian and walked back down to my office.
.......Settling in my desk chair, I picked up the phone and called a
buddy at the light company. Marty and I were the police once, before
he found better-paying work, before I went civilian. I asked for
another favor.
......."I'm looking for a Frank Gumm. Just moved out of 927
Barracks. Can you call me back?"
.......Marty said sure. I leaned my face in front of the desk fan,
but it did little good. Three minutes later Marty called back. Frank
Gumm switched his electricity from 927 Barracks to an address in St.
Bernard Parish, on Friscoville Avenue. I reminded Marty I owed him
another one and hung up.
.......Well, it was cooler outside and I hadn't been in the parish
for a while, so I grabbed my hat and suit coat off the rack and
walked back out into the sunlight.
.......I looked at my Bulova. It was eleven now. I figured I'd go
down to the parish, check out the Gumms and catch a bite at Gina's
Diner across from the Chalmette Battlefield. Gina's had some good
looking waitresses, a little on the hairy side. I like that in a
woman.
.......I walked around the corner to my DeSoto and climbed in. It
was a pre-war model, a light gray two-door coach with the most
comfortable seats and a cool ceramic steering wheel. I rolled the
front windows down to let in the river breeze, smelled the familiar
musty old-building smell again and started the engine.
.......I took Barracks up to Rampart and hung a right over to St.
Claude Avenue and followed the avenue through Bywater. Near St. Roch
Avenue, I passed a streetcar rattling down the neutral ground along
the center of St. Claude. A good-looking blonde leaned out a
streetcar window and winked at me and blew me a kiss. I smiled back
and realized she looked familiar. I think I pinched her once for
shoplifting on Canal Street.
.......Friscoville Avenue was only a little ways out of the city,
running from St. Claude down to the river, where illegal gambling
houses were still open for business, on the sly, except everybody
knew. I hooked a right on the small, two-lane avenue and slowed
immediately, trying to catch an address. I couldn't see one on the
first few houses, typical wooden singles half hidden behind trees,
so I pulled over to the right and dug out the note I'd written with
Gumm's new address.
.......The air was sweet with the humid smell of greenery. The