"Dibdin, Michael - Aurelio Zen 02 - Vendetta UC - part 02" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dibdin Michael)silenced trail bike, the squeal of brakes, the strident
discord of horns in conflict. At the corner of the block the newsagent was adding the final touches to the display of newspapers and magazines which were draped around his stall in a complex over- lapping pattern. As usual, Zen stopped to buy a paper, but he did not even glance at the headlines. He felt good, serene and carefree, released from whatever black magic had gripped his soul the night before. There would be time enough later to read about disasters and scandals which had nothing whatever to do with him. Across the street from the newsstand at the corner of the next block was the cafe which Zen frequented, largely because it had resisted the spreading blight of skimmed milk, which reduced the rich foam of a proper cappuccino to an insipid froth. The barman, who sported a luxuriant moustache to compensate for his glossily bald skull, greeted Zen with respectful warmth and turned away unbidden to prepare his coffee. 'Barbarians!' exclaimed a thickset man in a tweed suit, looking up from the newspaper spread out before him on the bar. 'Maniacs! What's the sense of it all? What can they hope to achieve?' Zen helped himself to a flaky brioche before broaching the chocolate-speckled foam on the cappuccino which meeting in the bar each morning for several years that Zen had finally discovered, thanks to an inflamed molar re- quiring urgent attention, that the indignant newspaper- reader was the dentist whose name appeared on one of the two brass plates which Giuseppe burnished religiously every morning. He congratulated himself on having resis- ted the temptation to look at the paper. No doubt there had been some dramatic new revelation about the Burolo affair. Hardly a day went by without one. But while for the dentist such things were a form of entertainment, a pretext for a display of moral temperament, for Zen it was work, and he didn't start work for another half hour. Idly, he wondered what the other men in the bar would say if they knew that he was carrying a video tape showing the Burolo killings in every last horrific detail. At the thought, he put down his coffee cup and patted his coat pocket, reassuring himself that the video cassette was still there. That was one mistake he certainly couldn't allow himself. There had already been one leak, when stills from the tape Burolo had made showing love scenes between his wife and the young lion-keeper had been published in a trashy scandal magazine. Such a magazine, or even one of the less scrupulous private TV stations, would be willing to pay a small fortune for a video of the |
|
|