"Simon Hawke - Wizards 08 - Wizard of Lovecraft Cafe" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

here."

"Steve. . . if you'll take my advice, you'll leave it alone," said Morgan.

McGuire smiled at him. "Duly noted," he said.

Morgan grimaced and shook his head. "You're never going to get the old man's job unless you learn how
to play ball."

"I can only think about one job at a time, Ed," McGuire replied. "And right now, somebody's telling me
how to do mine and getting on my nerves."

"Screw you, McGuire," Morgan said with a wry grimace. "Don't take my advice. I was a cop in this town
when you were still getting potty trained, but what the hell do I know? Do what you have to do. Just
keep me out of it, okay? I don't need any turf battles with the Bureau. I'm only six months from my
pension."

"Sure thing, Ed. It's my decision; I'll take whatever heat comes down."

"The Bureau can generate an awful lot of heat," said the older man.

"Well, you know what they say. If you can't take the heat . . ."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"My best to Gloria, Ed."

Morgan grunted. "Thanks. I'll pass it on." He turned and headed for the elevator.

McGuire beckoned to one of the investigators. "Get on the horn and get the Gypsy down here, right
away."

"Yes, sir."

McGuire looked around, wrinkling his nose as if there were a bad odor in the air. "Okay, Case," he
mumbled to himself. "I'll see your adept and raise you one psychic."



"Where the hell are we?" Kira asked, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Sebastian's," Billy said. "It was the only place I could think of in a hurry."

They had materialized in the living room of a third-floor walk-up above a bar in the Village, near the
corner of MacDougal and Fourth Street, within view of Washington Square Park. The apartment was
not very large, but high ceilings gave it the illusion of greater space. Still, what space there was had been
crammed full, mostly with books. Almost every inch of wall space was taken up with bookshelves, and in
addition to the books, the shelves held all manner of strange bric-a-brac. There were small, fantastic
sculptures made of bronze and pewter; various magical amulets and talismans; tarot decks and incense
burners; brass and glass votive candle holders; various small black iron caldrons and ceremonial daggers;