"Mack Reynolds - Day After Tomorrow" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Mack)

"Of course not, Monsieur, but…" Larry Woolford's chief dined here
several times a week and was possibly on the best of terms with
Fredrick—whose decisions on tables and whose degree of servility had a
good deal of influence on a man's prestige in Greater Washington. Larry
said wearily, "We can wait until she leaves. Where is she?"

"Do you see the young lady over near the window on the park? The
rather gauche type?"

It was a teenager, all right. A youngster up to her eyebrows in the
attempt to project sophistication. Larry assumed she was a Tri-Di fan
incomparable. Steve said, "Do you know who she is?"

"No," Fredrick said, nostrils high. "Hardly our usual clientele."

"Oh?" Larry said. "She looks like money."

Fredrick said, "Her clothing would seem to be derived from the Chez
Marie but she wears it as though it came from Kleins, and she is much too
young to wear a blouse so transparent as to reveal her bosom in such
fashion. Her perfume is Chanel, but she has used approximately three
times the quantity one would expect. Besides, Chanel is not in now, it has
lost status of recent date."

Larry hadn't known that last. He must remember not to give Chanel as
a present.

"That's our girl, all right," Steve murmured. “Where can we keep an eye
on her until she leaves?"

"Why not the bar here, Messieurs?"

"Why not?" Larry said. "I could use a drink."

Fredrick cleared his throat. "Ah, Messieurs, that fifty I turned over to
you. I suppose it turned out to be spurious?"

Steve grinned at him. "Afraid so, Fredrick. The department is holding
it."

Larry Woolford took out his wallet. "However, we have a certain leeway
on expenses on this assignment and appreciate your cooperation." He
handed two twenties and a ten to the maitre d'. Fredrick bowed low, the
money disappearing into his clothes magically. "Merci bien, Monsieur."

At the bar, Steve scowled at his colleague. "Ha!" he said. "Why didn't I
think of that first? He'll get down on his knees and bump his head each
time he sees you in the joint from now on."

Larry Woolford waggled a finger at the other. "This is a