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."I'm sorry," he said."I give interviews only on Tuesdays and Fridays.But Iam glad we came here together-you'll be able to testify that my twin hadalready taken his dive when I got here, so I couldn't have pushed him."Longbottom was still searching for an appropriate reply when Simon helpedCassie into the cab and started to follow her himself."You might tell Chief Inspector Teal," he said, "that even though you lostsight of Miss Lane and me as we were hurrying off to our supper, yourintuition tells you we'll be available back at her flat after a while.Ifthere's any faith at all left in the world, that should eliminate thenecessity of general alarms and roadblocks.Buckingham Palace," he told thedriver.He slid into the taxi and locked the door behind him as.Longbottom castvainly about for another cab in which to follow and then sprinted franticallyPage 93ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlback toward his official car.Long before he could have reached it, Simon andCassie had been swept away in the stream of traffic.Cassie, with a doubtful glance at the glass partition between them and thedriver, whispered in Simon's ear."They killed that man so he couldn't talk, didn't they?"The Saint nodded."That seems pretty likely.We'll discuss that later.Right now, since I don'tthink they're really expecting me at the Palace we'd better think of someother place to have dinner.Do you eat, or do you subsist on the fumes of glueand paint?"Cassie smiled."I eat.Ordinarily I don't get up quite this early, and I have brunch aroundmidnight, but since you and that policeman woke me up-"Simon's head tilted back a fraction as he looked at her with enthralledincredulity."Brunch around midnight?" he repeated."Of course.I sleep all day and have myday at night while everybody else is sleeping.It's lovely like that.Nocrowds, no traffic, no interruptions.""No nothing," concluded Simon."Just you and George and Caspar sailing away ina pea green dream-world." This time her smile was positively dazzling."You dounderstand, don't you?"Simon's expression achieved a kind of determined tolerance."Well," he said."Let's get you some breakfast, then." He glanced down at herbare feet, at her jeans and wrinkled white shirt."Oh, don't mind the way I'm dressed," she said."I know a perfect spot."Cassie's perfect spot turned out to be the nearest member of one of thosemass-production food chains which have lately riddled London like an invasionof termites in the beams of a noble house.Simon almost ended his relationshipwith Cassie at first sight of the steamy windows emblazoned with chartreuseand purple announcements of the day's special treats.Within, at avinyl-topped table lavishly arrayed with the smeared remnants of the previousdiners' stew, their every whim was as thoroughly ignored as possible by acontinuously loping waitress whose genetic heritage appeared to have stemmedfrom some ill-starred mating of a snapping turtle and a mentally deficienthyena.Surrounded by addicts of dog-food hamburgers, pasteboard beef, instant mashedpotatoes, wallpaper-paste gravies, and artificial fruit drinks, the Saintmanaged to stab a few times at some greasily fried halibut before concedingdefeat and trying to sustain himself on thoughts of the Epicurean supper hemight order somewhere later on.Cassie, now that she was wide awake and not in the immediate presence of anydead bodies, was showing a mannerism of jiggling up and down in her chair withnervous exuberance like a vibrating machine, even while she was eating."Great, isn't it?" she chirped.Page 94ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlShe was scraping up the last of some presumably canned beans.Simon made adespairing but bravely ambiguous sound, and Cassie glanced at his almostuntouched plate."You don't eat much, do you?" she said."Like a bird.""May I?"Her fork was already across the table, so he slid the halibut to her andpulled some folded papers and a bank book from his pocket.For the first timehe was starting to wonder if this evening and night would yield any enjoyabledividends at all."No checks," sneered the waitress as she galloped by.Simon mentally reduced her tip to a penny and started thumbing through thebank book.Cassie, bouncing up and down as energetically as ever, peered athim over a forkful of fish."Counting your money?" she asked [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]