"Mike Resnick - Lucifer Jones 02 - Exploits" - читать интересную книгу автора (Resnick Mike)

killed the chef, and that anyone who ruinedsole almondine that badly deserved to die.
And there was me, the Right Reverend Honorable Doctor Lucifer Jones, out of
Moline, Illinois by way of the Dark Continent, where I'd done my best to illuminate
the dark, dreary lives of the godless black heathen despite certain minor
disagreements with the constabularies of fourteen countries which culminated in my
being asked to establish the Tabernacle of Saint Luke on some other land mass. But I
already wrote that story, and I ain't going to go into it again, since anyone who's read
it knows that I'm a righteous and God-fearing man who was just misunderstood.
On the fifth day of the thirty that I was to serve, they gave me a roommate, a well-
dressed Australian with expensive-looking rings on all his fingers. His name was
Rupert Cornwall, and he explained that he had come to Hong Kong because Australia
was a pretty empty country and he liked crowds.
“And what do you do for a living, Brother Rupert?” I asked him, by way of being
polite.
“I'm an entrepreneur,” he said. “I put opportunists together with opportunities, and
take a little percentage for my trouble.”
“I didn't know being an entrepreneur was a criminal offense in Hong King,” I said.
“I was arrested by mistake,” he answered.
“You, too?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “I expect to be out of here within the hour. And what about
yourself? You look like a man of God with that turned-around collar of yours.”
“You hit the nail right on the head, Brother Rupert. That's what I am: a man of God,
here to bring comfort and spiritual uplifting to the heathen.”
“What religion do you belong to?” he asked.
“One me and the Lord worked out betwixt ourselves one Sunday afternoon back in
Illinois,” I said. “Hell, the way I see it, as long as we're upright and holy and got a
poorbox, what's the difference?”
He broke out into a great big smile. “Ilike you, Dr. Jones,” he said. “Where's your
church located?”
“Well, I ain't quite got around to building my tabernacle yet, Brother Rupert ... but I'm
taking donations for it, if the spirit's come upon you and you're so inclined.”
“I don't have any money with me,” he answered. “But look me up after we're both out
of here, and I might have some work for you.”
“Work wasn't exactly what I had in mind,” I said distastefully.
“When you hear what I have to offer, you might change your mind,” he said.
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “I could use a man of the cloth in my operation. I think we could enter
into a mutually profitable relationship.”
“You don't say?” I replied. “Well, I suppose I could always take a brief fling at the
entrepreneur business before I erect my tabernacle, God being the patient and
understanding soul that He is.”
He reached into his vest pocket and handed me his card. “That's my business address.
Remember to call on me.”
Well, I could tell we were hitting it off right fine, and I was going to ask him more
about our pending partnership, but just then a guard came by and unlocked the door.
“They made your bail again, Rupert,” he said in a bored voice.
“Was there ever any doubt?” asked Rupert smugly.
“You get arrested by mistake a lot?” I asked as he was leaving.
“Almost daily,” he said. “Personally, I think they're just jealous of my success.”
Then he was gone, and I was left with my thoughts until Mei Sung came by for