"Robert Rankin - Waiting for Godalming" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robert Rankin)

to his plans for changing the world. The powers that be thrived
on the concept of ownership. Icarus, in their eyes, would be a
dangerous criminal and subversive who could not be allowed to
walk the streets.
A few early run-ins with the local constabulary had taught Icarus
discretion. And, having read a great deal on the science of
detection and seen a great many movies, a very great many
movies, Icarus had become adept at covering his tracks and
leaving no clues behind at the "crime scene".
But, as relocating had to be instinctive, rather than premeditated,
there was always a margin of error. And the possibility of capture
and internment was never far away.
On this particular day, being the one on which our epic tale
begins, Icarus sat in Stravino's shop in the cinema seat nearest
the door. Sunlight, of the early morning spring variety, peeped
down at Icarus through the upper window glass and grinned upon
his hairy head.
The seat that Icarus occupied was number twenty-three and had
once been number twenty-three in the three and ninepenny stalls
of the Walpole Cinema in Ealing Broadway.
But the Walpole Cinema had been demolished and, during the
course of that demolition, the rows of seats numbered from
twenty-three to thirty-two had been relocated.
By Icarus Smith.
In fact there were a great many items to be found amongst the
fixtures and fittings of Stravino's shop that owed their presence
to the science of relocation. An understanding existed between
the barber and the relocator and Icarus Smith was assured of
free haircuts for life.
Today he thought he'd have a Tony Curtis.
There were three other clients in the shop of Stravino. One sat in
the barber's chair, the other two upon the relocated seats. The
one in the chair was Count Otto Black, a legendary figure in the
neighbourhood. Count Otto possessed a genuine duelling scar, a
Ford Fiesta called Jonathan and a bungalow with roses round the
door. Count Otto was having his mustachios curled.
Two seats along from Icarus sat a soldier home on leave. His
name was Captain Ian Drayton and he was a hero in his own
right, having endured sufficient horrors to qualify for a medal.
Between Captain Ian and Icarus Smith sat the third man. He was
not Michael Rennie.
The third man's name was Cormerant and Cormerant worked for
a mysterious organization known as the Ministry of Serendipity.
Cormerant wore the apparel of the city gent, pinstriped suit and
pocket watch and bowler hat and all. Cormerant muttered
nervously beneath his breath and shuffled his highly polished
brogues amongst the carpet of clippings. On his lap was a black
leather briefcase, containing, amongst other things, a pair of
black leather briefs.
Icarus Smith was aware of this briefcase.