|
Этаж смертиShe took off and gunned the car up the hill. It felt loose and low after the upright old Bentley. Coming down the hill toward us was a panel van. Smart dark green, very clean, brand-new. It looked like a utility van, but on the side was a sign in fancy gold script. It said: Kliner Foundation. Same as I’d seen the gardeners using. [1742] “What’s that truck?” I said to Roscoe. She wafted through the right at the convenience store. Up onto Main Street. “Foundation’s got a lot of trucks,” she said. “What is it they do?” I asked her. [1743] “Big deal around here,” she said. “Old man Kliner. The town sold him the land for his warehouses and part of the deal was he set up a community program. Teale runs it out of the mayor’s office.” “Teale runs it?” I said. “Teale’s the enemy.” [1744] “He runs it because he’s the mayor,” she said. “Not because he’s Teale. The program assigns a lot of money, spends it on public things, roads, gardens, the library, local business grants. Gives the police department a hell of a lot. Gives me a mortgage subsidy, just because I’m with the department.” [1745] “Gives Teale a lot of power,” I said. “And what’s the story with the Kliner boy? He tried to warn me off you ...» |
Код для вставки книги в блог HTML
phpBB
текст
|
|