Онлайн книга Dead Men's s Boots

They can get out further than that, so they could attack you even when youre a long way out and you think theres nobody anywere near you.

If you go in through the building, you better expect therell be heavy security. That may seem like the least of your problems but dont underestimate it. Remember you can still threaten them. Physically, I mean. If you pull your foot back to kick, a man is going to cover his balls. I know that sounds crude, but if you look at it in those terms you’ll

And that was it – or almost.

In the margin, opposite the phrase ‘Take back-up’, someone had scribbled two more words in red biro.

Felix Castor.

I was still staring blankly at those two words when the phone rang. Actually, it was more like I became aware that it was ringing: a sound that had been going on for some time underneath Internal Bleeding’s relentless bass beat and the equally unremitting noises of my neighbours dismantling their flat. Not my mobile: Ropey’s phone.

I picked up by reflex, even though I couldn’t remember ever giving the number to anyone.

‘Hello?’ I said.

‘Mister Castor?’ A man’s voice, slightly breathless and thin: not a voice I recognised.

‘Yes.’

‘Inter-Urban Couriers. Can you come down and sign for a package?’

‘A package?’ I echoed, slightly false-footed. ‘Who from?’

A short pause. ‘Well, the address is E14, but there’s no name.’

The only guy I knew out that way was Nicky Heath, a data rat who sometimes ran searches for me: but he wasn’t working on anything for me right then, and he wouldn’t be likely to use a regular courier service.

Being both paranoid and dead, he has his own specialised ways of working.

‘Mister Castor?’

‘Yeah, okay. I’ll be right down.’

I got up and went to the front door of the flat, unlocked it and stepped into the corridor. A few steps brought me to the lifts: I pressed the buttons until I found the one that was currently working – the council tenant’s equivalent of the ‘find the lady’ game.

It was on the fifth floor, only three floors below me, but instead of going up it went down. Someone else must have pressed the button at the same time.

As I waited for it to make its stately way back up the stack, I listened – since there wasn’t any other choice – to the shouting and swearing echoing from further up the corridor.