[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
twenty past eleven just ten minutes to make his appointment.
The traffic was heavy, especially crossing the ring road, and
Drummond began to worry that he would be late in arriving at the Rover
showrooms. His driver must have sensed his growing impatience, for with
the sixth sense that all good taxi drivers seem to possess, he suddenly
turned into an alley and, with total disregard for the signs, drove the
wrong way down a one-way alley. Just before reaching the end of the
alley, the Mercedes pulled into an open set of garage doors, and
Drummond found himself in the service department of the Rover dealer.
Looking at his watch he saw that it was just 11:30.
Climbing out of the cab, Drummond made his way to the showroom,
where three Rovers were parked in a veritable jungle of potted palms. The
showroom seemed to be deserted, and Drummond hoped that Herr
Hubmann had made it clear that he needed to talk to someone who spoke
English. After pushing his way through the underbrush, Drummond was
inspecting a blue Land Rover with a stuffed toy tiger on its hood when an
elderly mustachioed man in a tweed suit and regimental tie seemed to
appear from nowhere.
"Ha, you must be Drummond." The man spoke with a patrician British
accent. "I'm Adrian Hamilton-Bolt, Rover's resident Englishman." He
extended a large bony hand. "The man from Schwarzenberg telephoned
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
and said to expect you." He gave Drummond a quizzical stare. "Said you
were a captain, but you don't look like a navy man to me."
"You're right there, sir," Drummond said with a slight smile. "I'm a
captain with the Los Angeles Police Department."
"Good," said Hamilton-Bolt. "Never really cared for navy types. Now,
what sort of motor do you need?"
"Something that'll cope with snow and ice, stick to dirt roads in the rain,
and won't look out of place at Palais Schwarzenberg," Drummond said
with a chuckle.
"Well, unless you fancy mock tigers," Hamilton-Bolt gave the
offending toy a dismissive nod, "I'd suggest you can give this one a pass.
What you want is a Range Rover. They're over here." Pushing his way
through the potted palms, he led Drummond over to a white two-door.
"Best town and country car in the world," he said to Drummond as he
opened the door. "What do you think?"
"What I'm after is a Range Rover Vogue SE, with automatic
transmission." Drummond enjoyed the look of surprise that passed over
Hamilton-Bolt's face.
"Ha. The Rolls-Royce of off-road vehicles." He closed the door of the
white Range Rover. "I've got one in the basement. Give me a moment or
two to have it brought up."
Hamilton-Bolt walked over to his desk and pressed a button on the
intercom. In German punctuated with an English accent he gave a few
sharp orders, then turned back to Drummond.
"If you don't mind, I rather think you had better stand over here by the
desk," he said. That whole side of the room is a giant elevator."
Drummond stepped over to the desk just as the white car began to
slowly sink into the floor.
"Always reminds me of the Titanic when I see them go down like that,"
Hamilton-Bolt mused. "Especially the white one here. Makes me think of
an iceberg."
Drummond watched as the "iceberg" sank from sight, only to be
replaced a few moments later by a black Range Rover Vogue rising
majestically up out of the depths.
"Ha. Tell me if that's what you've had in mind, Captain Drummond,"
Hamilton-Bolt snorted. "Top of the line. Best damned car we've got." He
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
brushed his snow-white mustache smooth with his thumb and forefinger
as he spoke. "The Pride of England, and the Envy of the Krauts."
Walking over to the car, Drummond opened the door and climbed in
behind the wheel. The gray leather interior was smartly trimmed in burr
walnut, and Drummond noticed that the car was fitted with air-
conditioning and a sun roof.
"What's the top speed?" he asked Hamilton-Bolt.
"She'll just clear the ton," he said. "But she'll cruise at eighty all day
long."
Drummond hopped out and walked around the car, giving it a careful
inspection. The car was dignified if not stylish, and its four-liter V-8
engine would more than cope with anything Drummond would be likely
to encounter short of a Ferrari. Satisfied that the Range Rover was what
he wanted, he turned back to Hamilton-Bolt.
"Ill take it," he said. Then, as an afterthought, "Can you fit a cellular
telephone to it?"
"Ha. I can have it painted in the Drummond tartan, if you want. A cell-
phone is no problem."
Drummond reached into his pocket and pulled out Else Schmidt's card.
"Call my bank," he said as he handed Hamilton-Bolt her card. "They'll
take care of payment. How soon can you deliver it to my hotel?"
Hamilton-Bolt screwed a monocle into his left eye and examined the
card. "Well, it's noon now," he said. "Would first thing in the morning
suit?"
Drummond thought for a moment. "Yes, that would be fine. Thank
you."
"My pleasure," Hamilton-Bolt said. "Can I drop you anywhere?"
"No, thank you," Drummond replied. "I have a taxi waiting to take me
to the Prater."
"The Prater?" The old man frowned. "Why on earth are you going there?
There's no racing today."
"I'm meeting a friend at the Ferris wheel for lunch," Drummond said.
"Ha. In that case, tell your driver to take you to the Volksprater." He
smoothed his mustache again. "Otherwise, you're apt to be dropped miles
from where you want to be."
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
"Thanks for the tip," Drummond said, extending his hand. "Good-bye." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl szamanka888.keep.pl
twenty past eleven just ten minutes to make his appointment.
The traffic was heavy, especially crossing the ring road, and
Drummond began to worry that he would be late in arriving at the Rover
showrooms. His driver must have sensed his growing impatience, for with
the sixth sense that all good taxi drivers seem to possess, he suddenly
turned into an alley and, with total disregard for the signs, drove the
wrong way down a one-way alley. Just before reaching the end of the
alley, the Mercedes pulled into an open set of garage doors, and
Drummond found himself in the service department of the Rover dealer.
Looking at his watch he saw that it was just 11:30.
Climbing out of the cab, Drummond made his way to the showroom,
where three Rovers were parked in a veritable jungle of potted palms. The
showroom seemed to be deserted, and Drummond hoped that Herr
Hubmann had made it clear that he needed to talk to someone who spoke
English. After pushing his way through the underbrush, Drummond was
inspecting a blue Land Rover with a stuffed toy tiger on its hood when an
elderly mustachioed man in a tweed suit and regimental tie seemed to
appear from nowhere.
"Ha, you must be Drummond." The man spoke with a patrician British
accent. "I'm Adrian Hamilton-Bolt, Rover's resident Englishman." He
extended a large bony hand. "The man from Schwarzenberg telephoned
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
and said to expect you." He gave Drummond a quizzical stare. "Said you
were a captain, but you don't look like a navy man to me."
"You're right there, sir," Drummond said with a slight smile. "I'm a
captain with the Los Angeles Police Department."
"Good," said Hamilton-Bolt. "Never really cared for navy types. Now,
what sort of motor do you need?"
"Something that'll cope with snow and ice, stick to dirt roads in the rain,
and won't look out of place at Palais Schwarzenberg," Drummond said
with a chuckle.
"Well, unless you fancy mock tigers," Hamilton-Bolt gave the
offending toy a dismissive nod, "I'd suggest you can give this one a pass.
What you want is a Range Rover. They're over here." Pushing his way
through the potted palms, he led Drummond over to a white two-door.
"Best town and country car in the world," he said to Drummond as he
opened the door. "What do you think?"
"What I'm after is a Range Rover Vogue SE, with automatic
transmission." Drummond enjoyed the look of surprise that passed over
Hamilton-Bolt's face.
"Ha. The Rolls-Royce of off-road vehicles." He closed the door of the
white Range Rover. "I've got one in the basement. Give me a moment or
two to have it brought up."
Hamilton-Bolt walked over to his desk and pressed a button on the
intercom. In German punctuated with an English accent he gave a few
sharp orders, then turned back to Drummond.
"If you don't mind, I rather think you had better stand over here by the
desk," he said. That whole side of the room is a giant elevator."
Drummond stepped over to the desk just as the white car began to
slowly sink into the floor.
"Always reminds me of the Titanic when I see them go down like that,"
Hamilton-Bolt mused. "Especially the white one here. Makes me think of
an iceberg."
Drummond watched as the "iceberg" sank from sight, only to be
replaced a few moments later by a black Range Rover Vogue rising
majestically up out of the depths.
"Ha. Tell me if that's what you've had in mind, Captain Drummond,"
Hamilton-Bolt snorted. "Top of the line. Best damned car we've got." He
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
brushed his snow-white mustache smooth with his thumb and forefinger
as he spoke. "The Pride of England, and the Envy of the Krauts."
Walking over to the car, Drummond opened the door and climbed in
behind the wheel. The gray leather interior was smartly trimmed in burr
walnut, and Drummond noticed that the car was fitted with air-
conditioning and a sun roof.
"What's the top speed?" he asked Hamilton-Bolt.
"She'll just clear the ton," he said. "But she'll cruise at eighty all day
long."
Drummond hopped out and walked around the car, giving it a careful
inspection. The car was dignified if not stylish, and its four-liter V-8
engine would more than cope with anything Drummond would be likely
to encounter short of a Ferrari. Satisfied that the Range Rover was what
he wanted, he turned back to Hamilton-Bolt.
"Ill take it," he said. Then, as an afterthought, "Can you fit a cellular
telephone to it?"
"Ha. I can have it painted in the Drummond tartan, if you want. A cell-
phone is no problem."
Drummond reached into his pocket and pulled out Else Schmidt's card.
"Call my bank," he said as he handed Hamilton-Bolt her card. "They'll
take care of payment. How soon can you deliver it to my hotel?"
Hamilton-Bolt screwed a monocle into his left eye and examined the
card. "Well, it's noon now," he said. "Would first thing in the morning
suit?"
Drummond thought for a moment. "Yes, that would be fine. Thank
you."
"My pleasure," Hamilton-Bolt said. "Can I drop you anywhere?"
"No, thank you," Drummond replied. "I have a taxi waiting to take me
to the Prater."
"The Prater?" The old man frowned. "Why on earth are you going there?
There's no racing today."
"I'm meeting a friend at the Ferris wheel for lunch," Drummond said.
"Ha. In that case, tell your driver to take you to the Volksprater." He
smoothed his mustache again. "Otherwise, you're apt to be dropped miles
from where you want to be."
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
"Thanks for the tip," Drummond said, extending his hand. "Good-bye." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]