A Coffin from Hong Kong / Гроб из Гонконга. Книга для чтения на английском языке

от District Attorney, окружной прокурор] He’s an impatient bastard. Once he knows what I’ve got on you, he’ll move in. Why should he care so long as he gets a conviction?” There didn’t seem anything to say to that so I didn’t say it.

He stared out of the window that gave onto a view of the back of a tenement building with badly washed laundry hanging on strings and baby carriages on balconies.

“I’ve got to dig around before I can make up my mind about you,” he said finally.

“I can book you as a material witness or I can ask you to stick around voluntarily. What’s it to be?”

“I’ll stick around,’’ I said.

He reached for his telephone. “I want you,” he said when a voice sounded over the line.

There was a pause, then the door pushed open and a young plain-clothes man came in. He was the eager-beaver[39 - the eager-beaver – (разг.) энтузиаст; молодой и горячий] type. I could see, so far, police work hadn’t soured him.

He looked at Retnick the way a friendly dog looks for a bone.

With an expression of distaste, as if he were introducing a poor relation, Retnick waved to me.

“This is Nelson Ryan: a shamus. Take him away and keep him amused until I want him.” He looked at me. “This is Patterson. He’s just joined the force: don’t corrupt him faster than he need be.”

I went with Patterson down the corridor and into another small room that smelt of stale sweat, fear and disinfectant.

I sat down by the window while Patterson, looking puzzled, squatted on the edge of a desk.

“Relax,” I said. “We’ll probably be here for hours. Your boss is trying to prove I murdered a Chinese woman and he hasn’t a chance to prove it.”

His eyes bugged out as he stared at me.

Trying to put him at ease, I offered him the half-smoked cigar Retnick had given me. “This is a museum piece. Would you like to have it for your collection? It’s Retnick’s.

You have a museum?”

His young, eager face turned to stone. He looked almost like a cop. “Listen, let me tell you something. We don’t like…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I said, waving my hand to cut him short. “I’ve heard that one before. Retnick tells it better. I stir up the dust. I get in your way. I bother you boys. Okay, so what? I make a living the same as you. Can’t I kid you a little[40 - Can’t I kid you a little – (разг.