"Karl Edward Wagner - Deep in the depths of the Acme Warehouse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

cutoffs, a black Hawaiian shirt with palm trees and dancing girls, and mirror
shades. He was carrying two tall frosty glasses with tiny umbrellas on top and
some opalescent liquid inside. The sign at the hotel pool gate commanded: No
Glass.
“Drink this,” he said. “There’s a bug in your beer.”
Mina accepted the glass automatically, and he reclined upon Lucy’s
vacated lounge chair. The plastic and aluminum creaked, but held. Mina
wondered whether he would sink in the pool like a stone. The man seemed to be
a solid block of muscle and bone, very roughly hewn, and was probably in his
early thirties. He had a neat red beard, slicked-back red hair, and when he
lifted his sunglasses the intensity of his cold blue eyes made her want to
look away.
“I’m Kane,” he said. He raised his glass. “Cheers.”
“The Kane?” Mina sipped her drink. Her record company had just recently
been acquired by something called Kane, Ltd. All Mina knew about it was that
it wasn’t Japanese-owned, and no one knew much else about the firm that now
held her contracts. Supposedly the head of the organization was enigmatic and
unapproachable. Photos were rare, but Rolling Stone had described him as an
NFL lineman turned outlaw biker. Mina thought about the foggy photographs she
had seen. Yes, could be.
The drink tasted of licorice and took her breath away. “What is this?”
“Absinthe on the rocks,” said Kane. “Not on the bar list here.”
“I’d always thought absinthe was illegal. Even here in New Orleans.”
Kane swirled his drink. “So is cocaine, Mina. Will you drink up, or call for
the police? Besides, a little tincture of wormwood is good for the soul. This
bottle was laid down in 1837.”
“Where’d you get a bottle?” Mina knew when she was being served up
bulishit, and in this case she decided it was with a glass of Pernod or
Herbsaint.
“Connections,” Kane told her. “You can obtain anything if you have
connections.”
Whatever it was, the drink had a kick to it. That plus the sun. Mina
crunched a bit of ice. A small lizard crept out of the poolside shrubbery and
warmed itself on the stone wall. Two children splashed about noisily in the
shallow end of the pool. She could smell steaks broiling in the hotel
restaurant. Lucy would be toweling off after her shower a few doors away. A
sparrow was hopping along the terrace, looking for morsels.
Only now there was a shimmering haze to the air, sounds seemed too
distant, and the world had moved light-years away. A crumpled pack of Camels
drifted aimlessly across the patio. A radio played “Run Away” in the distance.
But in the dream state, Kane remained.
“Of course,” Kane said, “I now hold all your contracts. Do you fancy
another?” He held up his glass.
“Another what?” Mina heard herself say.
A large black-gloved hand took her glass. Another glass took its place
upon the poolside table. Mina saw a large person, wearing black biker leathers
and mirror shades, longish black hair and black beard, black motorcycle boots.
He hadn’t been there before.
“Thank you, Blacklight,” said Kane, sipping a fresh drink. “We’re just
talking contract.”