"Дон Пендлтон. California Hit ("Палач" #11) " - читать интересную книгу автора

"Hell I told you, I don't know. I guess there aren't more than two or
three men in the whole country who know his true identity. The name has been
falling out of tapped telephones for years, and everybody generally agrees
that he pulls the strings all over the western states... but hell that's it,
Sarge. There just simply isn't any make on the guy. And he's not Mafia, he's
bigger than that."
"I hear that Don DeMarco is his pipeline into the mob. I hear that's
what made DeMarco, and that's what's keeping him made."
There was a long pause, then Turrin replied, "You've got better ears
than mine, then. I never heard anything like that."
"Okay. Thanks a bunch, Leo."
"You, uh, don't want to know about anybody else?"
"You know I do." Bolan's voice went softly serious. "How are they?"
The reference was to Bolan's sole surviving relative - the kid brother,
Johnny. And to Valentina Querente, Bolan's warmest love, the schoolteacher
who'd taken over the care and feeding of young John.
"They're fine," Turrin reported. "The kid keeps a scrapbook on you.
He's going to be wanting to join you some day, Sarge... if you should live
so long. I mean... he wants a piece of your war. If you're still around by
then."
"Don't worry," Bolan said tightly. "I won't be. Their security still
okay?"
"Yeah. First class. Uh, Val keeps agitating for a meet. She's, uh..."
"Tell Val I'm dead, Leo. Tell her to find herself a nice, clean history
teacher or something and settle down to the good life."
"I've told her a hundred times, Sarge."
"Well keep telling her. She's an old maid already. Tell her I said
that."
"Okay, but it won't do any good. She's a Rock of Gibraltar, you know
that."
It's just a matter of time anyway," Bolan muttered.
"Yeah. She knows that. And she's prepared for it. But she does want to
see you, Sarge. One last time, she says. One hour, she wants one hour."
"I don't have one," Bolan said miserably.
"I know, I know."
"Leo. Thanks. You're a..."
"Yeah, yeah, shut up."
"So long."
"So long, dead man. Call me any time you can."
"I win."
Bolan hung up and lit another cigarette. He stared at the telephone for
a moment, then he sighed and went looking for the China doll.
The coffee was boiling over on the stove. He took it off.
She wasn't in the bedroom.
The bathroom was empty.
Mary Ching was not there.
The China doll had taken a powder.

6
Point of Crisis