Stephen Leather - The birthday girl

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Stephen Leather - The birthday girl» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Жанр: Триллер, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

The birthday girl: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «The birthday girl»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

The birthday girl — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «The birthday girl», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Katherine waited until later, as they sat either side of a chocolate sundae and attacked it with long-handled spoons, before raising the subject of Dr Brown with Mersiha. 'How do you think the session went today?' she asked.

Mersiha shrugged and spooned up a maraschino cherry.

'Okay,' she said.

'He said he thinks you're making terrific progress.'

'He does?' Mersiha said, surprised.

'Uh-huh. But he'd like you to open up to him more.'

They ate in silence for a while, each waiting for the other to speak. Eventually it was Katherine who broke the silence. 'He only wants to help you. If you were to open up to him, the nightmares might stop.'

'They have stopped,' Mersiha said. Katherine raised an eyebrow. 'Almost,' Mersiha added.

'He's right, you know. If you suppress things, they have a way of coming out in other ways.'

'I know, I know. There's no need to go on about it. I'm okay.

It's not like I'm crazy or anything.'

Katherine smiled. 'No, that's for sure. You're a very clever, very pretty, very lovely girl. And I love you with all my heart.'

Mersiha smiled. She offered her spoon to Katherine, giving her the maraschino cherry. Katherine put her lips to it, carefully, like a cat feeding.

'One day, maybe I'll be able to talk about it. But not just now.'

Mersiha was suddenly serious. 'It's as if I've locked all the bad stuff away and if I open the door it'll all come pouring out. I don't think I'll be able to handle it. Sometimes I realise how much bad stuff there is behind the door, and it scares me.'

Katherine nodded. 'Okay, kiddo. That's okay. Just so long as you remember that we're here for you.'

Mersiha smiled. 'Do bears…'

Katherine raised her spoon. 'Watch it, young lady!'

Sal Sabatino surveyed the menu and beamed at the grey-haired waitress as she hovered expectantly. 'So what's good tonight, huh?' he asked.

The waitress scratched her ear with the end of her pencil. 'The calamari's going well, Mr Sabatino.'

'Yeah? What, fried?'

'Baked is better. In a white wine and lemon sauce.'

Sabatino nodded thoughtfully and scratched one of his several chins. 'Yeah, but I really feel like fettuccini carbonara, you know?

I love the big pieces of bacon. None of that chopped ham they use in some places.'

'Only the best for you, Mr Sabatino.' The waitress stood patiently by the side of his table. She knew better than to rush Sal Sabatino. One of the customers at another table tried to catch her eye but she pretended not to notice.

'And the sauce. Oh, that sauce. My cholesterol level is going up just thinking about it.' He patted his ample waistline which was only half hidden by the tablecloth. 'You know what my blood pressure was at my last medical? One hundred and fifty over a hundred.' The waitress frowned, not sure if that was good or bad. 'I got it. I got it. I'll have the calamari, like you said, and a half-portion of the fettuccini, as an appetiser.'

'Excellent choice, Mr Sabatino.'

Sabatino handed her the menu with a flourish. 'And bring me a bottle of my usual. Well chilled.'

'Of course, Mr Sabatino.' The customer who'd been trying to get the waitress's attention waved frantically as she headed towards the kitchen, but she didn't stop. She knew that Sabatino wouldn't take kindly to his order being delayed for even a few seconds. He wasn't a man who liked to be kept waiting.

Sabatino sat alone in his corner, close to the stairs which led down to an emergency exit and with his back to the wall. Two of his bodyguards, big men in dark suits, sat at a table by the entrance to the dining room, sharing a bottle of mineral water and trying to look as if they had nothing more sinister than deodorant under their arms. One of the men was chewing on a small unlit cigar. He saw Sabatino looking his way and raised an eyebrow, the only indication that he'd noticed. Sal Sabatino loved his food, but he preferred to eat alone. He toyed with his knife as the waitress returned and opened a bottle of white wine with a flourish. She poured a splash into his glass and he tasted it, rolling it around his mouth before swallowing. He nodded his approval. Sal Sabatino loved everything Italian. He loved the food, he loved the wine, he loved the music, he loved the dark-haired fiery women. He loved it all. Sal Sabatino's one regret in life was that he hadn't been born Italian.

He was refilling his glass for the second time when Maury Anderson appeared in the doorway, mopping his forehead with a large red handkerchief. The bigger of the two bodyguards reached inside his jacket and got to his feet, but Sabatino waved his hand, a large gold ring flashing under the overhead lights, and the man sat down again.

Anderson walked over to Sabatino's table, shoving the handkerchief back into his trouser pocket. He made no move to shake hands and he waited until Sabatino nodded at the vacant chair before sitting down. The waitress scurried over with a menu but Sabatino shooed her away. 'My guest won't be staying,' he said. Sabatino picked up his glass and scrutinised Anderson as he drank. The man was clearly nervous, though the sweat was probably the result of the night's high humidity. 'So, Maury, how did the meeting go?'

Anderson's eyes darted from side to side as if he were frightened of being overheard. 'Not good,' he said.

'What do you mean?' Sabatino's voice dropped an octave and about twenty degrees.

Anderson shivered. 'The bank's putting its own representative on the board. A guy called Nelson.'

'So?'

'So he's going to be going through the books.'

Sabatino screwed up his face as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. 'Where's this guy based?' he asked.

Anderson slipped a business card across the table. 'This is his card.'

Sabatino picked up the pristine white card and studied it like an entomologist examining an unusual specimen. 'What's he like?' he asked.

'Late twenties. Aggressive. Ambitious. African American.'

Sabatino smiled to himself. Political correctness was so pervasive in modern-day America that it had even become part of a clandestine conversation. 'Yeah? I bet he's only ever seen Africa in an atlas,' he said. 'If he's black, why not just say he's black?'

Anderson sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

'Yeah. He's black. Sorry.'

'You wanna know what's wrong with this fucking country?'

Sabatino asked, though the question was clearly rhetorical.

'People are scared to say what they really think. They self-censor, that's what they do. You know those three guys that've been doing those robberies in Guilford? You know the ones? Picking on old folks, raping the women, beating the husbands and stealing everything that's not nailed down? You know they're black, I know they're black, but what does it say in the papers?

Three assailants, that's what they say. And why do they say that?

Because it's politically incorrect to say that they're black, that's why. What's the world coming to, Maury? Tell me, what's the world coming to?'

'I've no idea, Mr Sabatino.'

'It's a hell of a world, Maury. A hell of a world. So this Nelson, he's gonna be sniffing around, is he?'

Anderson nodded. The waitress appeared with Sabatino's fettuccini carbonara. Sabatino unfurled his napkin and placed it on his lap. 'Okay, Maury, I'll give you a call if I need anything else. You keep an eye on this Nelson for me, okay?'

Anderson hesitated. He scratched the end of his nose with the first finger and thumb of his right hand. 'There is one thing, Mr Sabatino.'

Sabatino tore his eyes off the pasta. 'Not here, Maury. Vincenti will take care of you outside.'

Anderson grinned. 'Thanks, Mr Sabatino. Thanks a lot.'

Anderson stood up and held out his hand, but Sabatino was already twirling his fettuccini around his fork. The financial director shrugged and walked away. The smaller of the two bodyguards, the one chewing the cigar, handed him a rolled-up copy of the Baltimore Sun on his way out. Inside was a polythene package containing an ounce of cocaine. Maury Anderson had a major habit, and it was a habit that, for the moment at least, Sabatino was prepared to feed. At some point in the future Anderson would outlive his usefulness, literally, and it would be time to take him on a picnic. Sabatino was looking forward to the prospect.

Читать дальше
Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «The birthday girl»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «The birthday girl» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.


Отзывы о книге «The birthday girl»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «The birthday girl» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.

x