"Robert Rankin - Sex, Drugs & Sausage Rolls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robert Rankin)`Use me for cover? I don't understand.' `I think the police probably followed me here. They'll have the place surrounded. Probably.' Soap let out a plaintive groan. Omally slipped over to the front window and took a peep out. `He's right,' he said, `there's police cars everywhere and a couple of marksmen on top of the nearest flat block. I think it might be better if you just went out with your hands up, Dave.' `No way,' said Small Dave. `They're not taking me alive. Top of the world, ma.' And with that he drew from his trouser pocket-- --a pistol. Now, it had been a quiet Tuesday lunchtime in the Swan. Very quiet. There had just been the three of them. And Neville, of course. Neville the part-time barman. But Neville hadn't been listening to the con-versation. He had been quietly polishing glasses up at the public bar end of the counter. Quiet, that's how it had been. But with the arrival of that pistol... It gotvery quiet indeed. Dead hushed. Like. `Dave,' said John, when he had done with quietness. `Dave, where did you get that gun?' `I dug it up,' said Small Dave. `From under your hut. It's your gun.' `Dave, it's not my gun.' `Like they weren't your nudie books?' `All right. They might have been my nudie books. But that isn'tmy gun.' `So whose gun is it?' `It was my grand-daddy's gun. Michael Collins gave him that gun.' `It's mine now,' said Small Dave. `And I'm not afraid to use it.' `Be afraid,' said John. `Be very afraid.' `Oh yes, and why?' `Because it doesn't have a firing pin.' `Yeah, well they won't know that, will they?' `No,' said John. `Which is why they will shoot you dead.' |
|
|