Lieberman's Day Read Online Free PDF Page B

pale, her light blond hair over her face.
    Lieberman approached the bed while Hanrahan stayed waiting at the door. Then Lieberman stood for perhaps a minute, his thighs touching the clean blanket that covered Carol, and looked down at her, saying nothing. She stirred, sensing a presence, moaned, and struggled to open her eyes.
    â€œIt’s me, Abe, David’s uncle,” he said softly.
    â€œDavid,” she groaned.
    â€œYes.”
    Carol’s dark brown eyes opened and fought to keep from closing. Her hand fluttered and Abe took it.
    â€œThey killed David,” she said.
    â€œYes,” said Lieberman.
    â€œAnd me, they shot me. Why?”
    â€œI don’t know,” said Lieberman.
    â€œThe baby. Someone, a doctor, someone said the baby was all right. Is he all right?”
    â€œYes,” said Lieberman.
    Carol sighed, gripped his hand tightly for an instant, and then closed her eyes.
    â€œWe can only stay a minute, Carol,” Lieberman whispered. “What can you tell us about the people who did this?”
    â€œPeople?”
    â€œWho shot you and David. You said ‘they.’”
    â€œYes. Two men. One skinny with a twisted face, one huge, like him,” she said, nodding with closing eyes in Hanrahan’s direction.
    â€œDid they use names, say anything?”
    â€œBlack, they were black with accents.”
    â€œAccents?”
    â€œNot Africa, not the South; Jamaica, Haiti. I don’t know.”
    â€œGood,” said Lieberman, patting her hand gently.
    â€œThey have one of those things in the back of my hand,” she said, so low he almost missed it.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIt hurts. Thirsty.”
    â€œI’ll tell the nurse. Can you remember anything else about the two men?”
    Carol slowly shook her head no, started to drift into drugged sleep, and muttered something very softly.
    â€œWhat did she say?” Hanrahan whispered.
    â€œDavid’s hat,” Lieberman answered.
    The doctor was gone when they stepped out of Carol’s room and closed the door. The white-haired nurse with the slipping glasses looked up again.
    â€œThank you,” said Hanrahan, and the nurse nodded.
    The two men said nothing as they left the soft darkness of the ICU and went down the corridor to the elevators. It wasn’t until they were standing in the empty main lobby of the hospital, before an erect and quite gray fern, that Lieberman spoke.
    â€œWhat do we have?”
    â€œThey went to dinner at the apartment of David’s boss, left about midnight, maybe a little later. Not many people out. They were found in the front yard of a doctor, Doctor Ranpur, cardiologist. He’s the one who called nine-one-one.”
    Lieberman nodded. “He see anything?”
    Hanrahan shrugged. “That’s all I’ve got, Rabbi. Evidence guys are probably there.”
    Lieberman looked over his partner’s shoulder at the rattling, frosted windows of the hospital lobby.
    â€œKearney?”
    â€œI called him,” said Hanrahan. “Told him who it was. Told him we’d want the case.”
    â€œAnd …?”
    â€œWe’ve got it. None of that stuff about being too close to it. Hughes wouldn’t have let us take it, but … you O.K., Abraham?”
    â€œThere’s O.K. and there’s O.K. I’m O.K. We’ve got to move. I’m gonna have to call Maish.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œSee if they have a bag on David here and find out if Evidence took anything,” said Lieberman.
    â€œGot it,” said Hanrahan. “Looking for something particular?”
    â€œDavid’s hat,” said Lieberman, moving past his partner with a deep sigh and heading for the phone booths against the white wall next to a large, cheerful painting of a very red flower.

Three-Fifteen in the Morning
    D R. J. W. RASHISH RANPUR’S house was hot. Not just warm, hot. The heat hit the two policemen when the small,