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The Laughing Corpse :: Гамильтон Лорел
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"The police will not get her. She is too crafty for that," he said.
"We can get her legally. I believe that."
"You aren't sure " he said.
What could I say? He was right. "I'm almost sure."
"Almost is not good enough for killing my brother."
"That zombie has killed a lot more people than just your brother. I want her, too. But we're going to get her legally, through the court system."
"There are other ways to get her," he said.
"If the law fails us, feel free to use voodoo. Just don't tell me about it."
He looked amused, puzzled. "No outrage about me using black magic?"
"The woman tried to kill me once. I don't think she'll give up."
"You survived an attack by the Seсora?" he asked. He looked amazed.
I didn't like him looking amazed. "I can take care of myself, Mr. Burke."
"I don't doubt that, Ms. Blake." He smiled. "I've bruised your ego. You don't like me being so surprised, do you?"
"Keep your observations to yourself, okay?"
"If you have survived a head-on confrontation with what Dominga Salvador would send to you, then I should have believed some of the stories I heard of you. The Executioner, the animator who can raise anything no matter how old."
"I don't know about that last, but I'm just trying to stay alive, that's all."
"If Dominga Salvador wants you dead that won't be easy."
"Damn near impossible," I said.
"So let us get her first," he said.
"Legally," I said.
"Anita, you are being naive."
"The offer to come on a raid of her house still stands."
"You're sure you can arrange that?"
"I think so."
His eyes had a sort of dark light to them, a sparkling blackness. He smiled, tight-upped, and very unpleasant, as if he were contemplating tortures for one Dominga Salvador. The private vision seemed to fill him with pleasure.
The skin between my shoulders crept with that look. I hoped John never turned those dark eyes on me. Something told me he would make a bad enemy. Almost as bad as Dominga Salvador. Almost as bad, but not quite.
31
Dominga Salvador sat in her living room smiling. The little girl who had been riding her tricycle on my last trip here was sitting in her grandma's lap. The child was as relaxed and languorous as a kitten. Two older boys sat at Dominga's feet. She was the picture of maternal bliss. I wanted to throw up.
"The police will not get her. She is too crafty for that," he said.
"We can get her legally. I believe that."
"You aren't sure " he said.
What could I say? He was right. "I'm almost sure."
"Almost is not good enough for killing my brother."
"That zombie has killed a lot more people than just your brother. I want her, too. But we're going to get her legally, through the court system."
"There are other ways to get her," he said.
"If the law fails us, feel free to use voodoo. Just don't tell me about it."
He looked amused, puzzled. "No outrage about me using black magic?"
"The woman tried to kill me once. I don't think she'll give up."
"You survived an attack by the Seсora?" he asked. He looked amazed.
I didn't like him looking amazed. "I can take care of myself, Mr. Burke."
"I don't doubt that, Ms. Blake." He smiled. "I've bruised your ego. You don't like me being so surprised, do you?"
"Keep your observations to yourself, okay?"
"If you have survived a head-on confrontation with what Dominga Salvador would send to you, then I should have believed some of the stories I heard of you. The Executioner, the animator who can raise anything no matter how old."
"I don't know about that last, but I'm just trying to stay alive, that's all."
"If Dominga Salvador wants you dead that won't be easy."
"Damn near impossible," I said.
"So let us get her first," he said.
"Legally," I said.
"Anita, you are being naive."
"The offer to come on a raid of her house still stands."
"You're sure you can arrange that?"
"I think so."
His eyes had a sort of dark light to them, a sparkling blackness. He smiled, tight-upped, and very unpleasant, as if he were contemplating tortures for one Dominga Salvador. The private vision seemed to fill him with pleasure.
The skin between my shoulders crept with that look. I hoped John never turned those dark eyes on me. Something told me he would make a bad enemy. Almost as bad as Dominga Salvador. Almost as bad, but not quite.
31
Dominga Salvador sat in her living room smiling. The little girl who had been riding her tricycle on my last trip here was sitting in her grandma's lap. The child was as relaxed and languorous as a kitten. Two older boys sat at Dominga's feet. She was the picture of maternal bliss. I wanted to throw up.