Читать «Город костей - английский и русский параллельные тексты» онлайн - страница 309

"They have to go into the file. Nobody will see them."

"I want to burn them."

"Burn the memories."

She nodded. Bosch was turning to go when he heard her laugh and he looked back at her. She was shaking her head.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just that I've got to sit here and listen to people trying to talk and sound like you all day. And I know right now nobody will come close. Nobody will get it right."

"That's show business," Bosch said.

As they headed back down the hallway to the stairs Bosch and Edgar passed by all the actors again. In the stairwell the one named Frank was saying his lines out loud. He smiled at the true detectives as they passed.

"Hey, guys, you guys are for real, right? How do you think I was doing in there?"

Bosch didn't answer.

"You were great, Frank," Edgar said. "You're a

closer man The proof is in the pudding"_

- Что вы сделаете с фотографиями?

Босх поглядел на конверт, потом снова на Шейлу.

- Они должны лежать в досье. Их никто не увидит.

- Я хочу их сжечь.

- Сожгите воспоминания.

Шейла кивнула. Босх повернулся, чтобы выйти, но услышал ее смех и обернулся:

- Что такое?

- Ничего. Просто мне приходится сидеть здесь целый день и слушать людей, которые пытаются говорить, как вы. И теперь я знаю, что похоже ни у кого не получится. Никто не сыграет правильно.

- Это индустрия развлечений, - заметил Босх.

Шагая по коридору к лестнице, Босх и Эдгар снова миновали всех актеров. На лестничной клетке Фрэнк громко произносил свои реплики. Когда появились детективы, он улыбнулся им:

- Ребята, вы настоящие полицейские, верно? Как, по-вашему, я читал?

- Великолепно, Фрэнк, - сказал Эдгар. - Ты «закрыватель», дружище. Доказательство у тебя в брюках.

46

At two o'clock Friday afternoon Bosch and Edgar made their way through the squad room to the homicide table. They had driven from the Westside to Hollywood in virtual silence. It was the tenth day of the case. They were no closer to the killer of Arthur Delacroix than they had been during all the years that Arthur Delacroix's bones had lain silently on the hillside above Wonderland Avenue.

All they had to show for their ten days was a dead cop and the suicide of an apparently reformed pedophile.

As usual there was a stack of pink phone messages left for Bosch at his place. There was also an interoffice dispatch envelope. He picked up the envelope first, guessing he knew what was in it. "About time," he said.

He opened the envelope and slid his mini-cassette recorder out of it. He pushed the play button to check the battery. He immediately heard his own voice. He lowered the volume and turned off the device.

He slipped it into his jacket pocket and dropped the envelope into the trash can by his feet.

He shuffled through the phone messages. Almost all were from reporters. Live by the media, die by

the media he thought_

46

В два часа Босх и Эдгар прошли через сыскной отдел к своему столу.

Из Уэстсайда до Г олливуда они ехали в полном молчании. Шел десятый день расследования.

К убийце Артура Делакруа они были не ближе, чем в течение всех лет, пока кости мальчика лежали на склоне холма над Уандерланд-авеню.