"George Alec Effinger - Marid and the Trail of Blood" - читать интересную книгу автора (Effinger George Alec)

"No," I said. I can't keep up with what goes on with every girl, deb, and sex-change in the
Budayeen.
"She turned up dead yesterday. They say they found her body all drained of blood, and she
had two small puncture marks on her neck. It looks like some kind of vampire jumped on her or
something." Pualani shuddered.
I closed my eyes and rubbed my throbbing temples. "There are no such things as vampires,"
I said. "There are no afrits, no djinn, no werewolves, no succubi, and no trolls. There has to
be some other explanation for Vi." I recognized the woman's name, but I couldn't picture her
face.
"Like what?"
"I don't know, a murderer with an elaborate scheme to throw suspicion on a supernatural
suspect, maybe."
"I don't think so," Pualani said. "I mean, everything just fits."
"Uh-huh," I said.
Pualani went into the back to change into her working outfit. I reached over the bar and
filled a tall glass with ice, then poured myself a carbonated soft drink.
Chiriga, my partner, arrived not long after. She owned half the club and acted as daytime
barmaid. I was glad to see her, because it meant that I didn't have to watch the place
anymore. I rested my head on my arms and let the hangover headache do its throbbing worst
Nothing felt fatal until someone shook my shoulder. I tried to ignore it, but it wouldn't go
away. I sat up and saw Yasmin, one of the dancers. She was brushing her glistening black
hair. "You hear about Vi?" she said.
"Uh-huh."
"You know I warned Vi about staying out of that alley. She used to go home that way
every night. That's what she gets for working at the Old Chicago and going home that way. I
must've told her a dozen times."
I took a deep breath and let it out. "Yasmin, the poor girl didn't deserve to die just because
she walked home through an alley."
Yasmin cocked her head to one side and looked a time. "Yeah, I know, but still. You hear
they think it was Sheba who killed her?"
That was news to me. "Sheba?" I asked. "She worked here maybe eight or nine months
ago? That Sheba?"
Yasmin nodded. "She's over by Fatima and Nassir's these days, and she belongs there."
Chiri wiped the bar beside me and tossed a coaster in front of Yasmin. "Why do you think it
was Sheba who killed Crazy Vi?" Chiri asked.
"Cause," Yasmin said in a loud whisper. "Vi was killed by a vampire, right? And you never
see Sheba in the daytime. Never. Have you? Think about it. Let me have some peppermint
schnapps, Chiri."
I glanced at Chiri, but she only shrugged. I turned back to Yasmin. "First everybody's sure
Vi was killed by a vampire, and now you're sure that the vampire is Sheba."
Yasmin raised both hands and tried to look innocent. "I'm not making any of this up," she
said. She scooped up her peppermint schnapps and went to sit beside Pualani. No customers
had come in yet.
"Well," I said to Chiri, "what do you think?"
Chiri's expression didn't change. "I don't think anything. Do I have to?" Chiri's the only
person in the Budayeen with any sense. And that includes me.
The afternoon passed slowly. The other three dancers, Lily, Kitty, and Baby, came in when
they felt like it. We made a little money, sold a few drinks, the girls hustled some champagne
cocktails. I listened to the same damn Sikh propaganda songs on the holo system and
watched my employees parade their talents.