"Robert B. Parker - Poodle Springs (v1.1)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Parker Robert B)

"I am very sorry, sir."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Some ladies like it. But my wife bears my name. She would like her lunch. I have to go out on business."

"Very good, sir. I'll prepare Mrs. Marlowe's lunch at once."

"Tino, there is one other thing. Mrs. Marlowe and I are in love. That shows itself in various ways. None of the ways are to be noticed by you."

"I know my position, sir."

"Your position is that you are helping us to live comfortably. We are grateful to you for that. Maybe more grateful than you know. Technically you are a servant. Actually you are a friend. There seems to be a protocol about these things. I have to respect protocol just as you do. But underneath we are just a couple of guys."

He smiled radiantly. "I think I shall be very happy here, Mr. Marlowe."

You couldn't say how or when he disappeared. He just wasn't there. Linda rolled over on her back and lifted her toes and stared at them.

"What do I say now! I wish the hell I knew. Do you like my toes?"

"They are the most adorable set of toes I have ever seen. And there seems to be a full set of them."

"Get away from me, you horror. My toes are adorable."

"May I borrow the Fleetwood for a little while? Tomorrow I'll fly to L.A. and pick up my Olds."

"Darling, does it have to be this way? It seems so unnecessary."

"For me there isn't any other way," I said.



3


The Fleetwood purred me down to the office of a man named Thorson whose window said he was a realtor and practically everything else except a rabbit fancier.

He was a pleasant-looking baldheaded man who didn't seem to have a care in the world except to keep his pipe lit.

"Offices are hard to find, Mr. Marlowe. If you want one on Canyon Drive, as I assume you do, it will cost you."

"I don't want one on Canyon Drive. I want one on some side street or on Sioux Avenue. I couldn't afford one on the main stem."

I gave him my card and let him look at the photostat of my license.

"I don't know," he said doubtfully. "The police department may not be too happy. This is a resort town and the visitors have to be kept happy. If you handle divorce business, people are not going to like you too well."

"I don't handle divorce business and people very seldom like me at all. As for the cops, I'll explain myself to them, and if they want to run me out of town, my wife won't like it. She has just rented a pretty fancy place in the section out near Romanoff's new place."

He didn't fall out of his chair but he damn well had to steady himself. "You mean Harlan Potter's daughter? I heard she had married some -- well the hell with it, what do I mean? You're the man, I take it. I'm sure we can fix you up, Mr. Marlowe. But why do you want it on a side street or on Sioux Avenue? Why not right in the best section?"

"I'm paying with my own money. I don't have a hell of a lot."