Cop Hater [antikvár]

CHAPTER ONE From the river bounding the city on the north, you saw only the magnificent skyline. You stared up at it in something like awe, and sometimes you caught your breath because the view was one of majestic splendour. The clear silhouettes of the buildings slashed at the sky, devouring the blue; flat planes and long planes, rough rectangles and needle-sharp spires, minarets and peaks, pattern upon pattern laid in geometric unity against the wash of blue and white which was the sky. And at night, coming down the River Highway, you were caught in a dazzling galaxy of brilliant suns, a web of lights strung out from the river and then south to capture the city in a brilliant display of electrical wizardry. The highway lights glistened close and glistened farther as they skirted the city and reflected in the dark waters of the river. The windows of the buildings climbed in brilliant rectangular luminosity, climbed to the stars, and joined the wash of red and green and yellow and orange neon which tinted the sky. The traffic lights blinked their gaudy eyes and along the Stem, the incandescent display tangled in a riot of colour and eye-aching splash. The city lay like a sparkling nest of rare gems, shimmering in layer upon layer of pulsating intensity. The buildings were a stage-set. They faced the river, and they glowed with man-made brilliance, and you stared up at them in awe, and you caught your breath. Behind the buildings, behind the lights, were the streets. There was garbage in the streets. The alarm sounded at 11 p.m. He reached out for it, groping in the darkness, finding the lever and pressing it against the back of the clock. The buzzing 7