Laughing Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

Do you have any idea why you're here?"
    "No," Jack said. "I told you, I don't remember, I don't remember."
    Patricia asked, "Do you remember the woman in the stairway?"
    "No."
    Smalley grinned. It was humorless, flat, and cold, and Erthmun, looking at it, wanted to rip the man's lips from his face. Smalley said, "Of course you do, Detective. A naked woman with chocolate stuffed in her mouth. Who could forget something like that?"
    Jack shook his head. "For Christ's sake, why don't you stop being coy and simply tell me what it is I'm supposed to have done."
    Patricia told him. When she was finished, he said, "Why in the hell would I do something like that? I've never done anything like that before."
    "Yes," Patricia said, "I know."
    "It's a fucking strange thing to do," Smalley said. "And that's why you're here."
    Jack said. "So what does any of this have to do with Internal Affairs?"
    Smalley grinned again. "We think you knew her, Jack."
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    I n another part of the city, a woman awoke from dreams she too could not remember. She was a stunning woman, with hip-length brown hair, sky-blue eyes, and a face as exquisitely and preternaturally beautiful as anything that lived.
    Like Erthmun, she slept naked, under a cocoon of blankets and quilts, but when she woke, she did not come back from sleep haltingly, as Erthmun did—she came back all at once, as if she had been walking, and had simply changed direction.
    Blood stained her body this evening, and when she looked at herself in her mirror, and saw the blood, she grinned as if at the memory of something pleasurable. Then she got into her shower, washed the blood off, and soon had forgotten the blood, and the pleasure.
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    "K new her," Erthmun said. "Knew who?"
    "The woman with chocolate stuffed in her mouth," Smalley said.
    Patricia asked, " Did you know her, Jack?"
    Erthmun sighed. "Of course not. What in the hell makes you think I knew her?"
    Smalley said, "Because you called her by name."
    "By name," he echoed. "I did?"
    Smalley nodded. "You called her Helen. That was her middle name. We think it's probably what her friends called her."
    Erthmun shook his head in confusion. "I don't know anyone named Helen."
    "We want to believe you, Detective," Smalley said. "And maybe we do, as far as it goes."
    "Meaning?"
    Smalley shook his head a little. "Shit, I don't know. Maybe I'm just trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I'm trying to be magnanimous. They tell me I'm nothing if not magnanimous." He grinned, glanced quickly at Patricia, who was giving him a puzzled look, then looked at Erthmun again. "How in the hell can we believe you, Detective? You called the dead woman by name, for Christ's sake. You picked her up and shook her like a rag doll, and you called her 'Helen,' which was her name. And now you tell us that you don't remember doing it, and that you don't know anyone named Helen. Give me a break, man. I don't think you're stupid, and I know for a fact that I'm not."
    Erthmun gave him a steady, unblinking gaze. "I didn't know her. If you claim that I said these things, then I must have said them. I have no reason to believe that either of you is lying. But I didn't know her."
    "Noreen Helen Obermier," Smalley said.
    After a moment's silence, Erthmun said, "Yes? And?"
    "That was her name."
    "I'll take your word for it."
    "Why do I get the idea that you're not cooperating with this investigation, Detective?"
    "Because it's in your nature to be suspicious," Erthmun answered.
    "Damn right," Smalley shot back. "And I'm proud of it. It makes me good at what I do." He grinned again. Erthmun looked away. His fists were clenched; he closed his eyes. "Listen," he said, voice tight, "I'm tired. Why don't you both get out of here."
    "For now," Smalley said, and left the room.
    "Rest, Jack," Patricia said.
    "Rest, Jack," Erthmun echoed her. He was released later that day.
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    W hen she had dressed herself, and had lingered at her mirror—because she was