"Robb, J D - In Death 10 - Loyalty in Death (1)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robb J D)

"You're giving me past tense here."
Ratso blinked at her. "Huh?"
"Did something happen to The Fixer?"
"Yeah, but wait. I'm getting ahead of things." He dug his skinny fingers into
the shallow bowl of sad-looking nuts. Chomped on them with what was left of his
teeth as he looked at the ceiling and pulled his easily scattered thoughts back
into line. "About a month ago, I got some... I had me a view-screen unit, needed
a little work."
Eve's eyebrows lifted under her fringe of bangs. "To cool it off," she said
mildly.
He wheezed, slurped. "See, it got sorta dropped, and I took it in to Fixer so's
he could diddle with it. I mean, the guy's a genius, right? Nothing he can't
make work like brand-fucking-new."
"And it's so clever the way he can change serial numbers."
"Yeah, well." Ratso's smile was nearly sweet. "We got to talking, and The Fixer,
he knows how I'm always looking for a little pickup work. He says how he's got
this job going. Big one. Really flush. They got him building timers and remotes
and little bugs and shit. Done up some boomers, too."
"He told you he was putting together explosives?"
"Well, we was sorta pals, so yeah, he was telling me. Said how they heard he
used to do that kind of shit when he was in the army. And they was paying heavy
credits."
"Who was paying?"
"I don't know. Don't think he did, either. Said how a couple guys would come to
his place, give him a list of stuff and some credits. He'd build the shit, you
know? Then he'd call this number they give him, leave a message. Just supposed
to say like the products are ready, and the two guys would come back, pick the
stuff up, and give him the rest of the money."
"What did he figure they wanted with the stuff?"
Ratso lifted his bony shoulders, then looked pitifully into his empty mug.
Knowing the routine, Eve lifted a finger, turned it down toward Ratso's glass.
He brightened immediately.
"Thanks, Dallas. Thanks. Get dry, you know? Get dry talking."
"Then get to the point, Ratso, while you still have some spit in your mouth."
He beamed as the waitress came over to slop urine-colored liquid in his mug.
"Okay, okay. So he says how he figures maybe these guys are looking to shake
down a bank or jewelry store or something. He's working on some bypass unit for
them, and he's clued in that the timers and remotes set off the boomers he's got
going for them. Says maybe they'll want a little guy who knows his way under the
street. He'll maybe put in a word for me."
"What are friends for?"
"Yeah, that's it. Then I get a call from him a couple weeks later. He's really
wired up, you know? Tells me the deal isn't what he figured. That it's bad shit.
Real bad shit. He ain't making any sense. Never heard old Fixer like that. He
was real scared. Said something about being afraid of another Arlington, and how
he needed to go under awhile. Could he flop with me until he figured out what to
do next? So I said sure, hey sure, come on over. But he never did."
"Maybe he went under somewhere else?"
"Yeah, he went under. They fished him outta the river a couple days ago. Jersey
side."