Palindrome Read Online Free PDF Page A

Mr. Schaefer," the woman said. "Mr. Furman Bisher, of the Atlanta Journal is on the phone, and he insists on speaking to you right away. There's also someone from the Associated Press on the phone, and he is very anxious to speak to you, as well."
    "Thank you, Hilda," Schaefer said.
    "Would you ask Mr. Bisher and the other gentleman to hold on for a couple of minutes? And, Hilda, when you've done that, would you come back and bring your notary's seal?" 
    The woman left, and Schaefer turned back to Hoyt. "Now, Henry, I think you're beginning to get an idea of your position. If you leave this office without signing that document, I promise you that the world is going to fall on your clients and their football player." Schaefer took two pens from the drawer and placed them before the two men opposite him. Hilda entered with her notary's stamp and stood at the end of the table.
    "Al, this is an outrage!" Hoyt began. "If you think you can bulldoze me into..." Hoyt stopped and watched Bake Ramsey as he leaned forward, picked up a pen, and signed the document. Hilda moved to his side, stamped the document, and signed it. Hoyt watched this ceremony apprehensively, then tried once more.
    "Al, I'm going to have to consult—"
    "Henry," Schaefer interrupted, "you and I both know that you already have your client's authority to settle. Now let's get this over with."
    Hoyt's shoulders slumped. He picked up the pen, signed the document, and the trusty Hilda notarized it. Schaefer retrieved the documents and stood up. "Thank you, Henry. I'll expect the funds on my desk by noon tomorrow, as our agreement stipulates. A check on your firm's trust account will be fine. I'll return a copy of the agreement with Ms. Barwick's signature when she's out of surgery."
    "All right," Hoyt said dispiritedly.
    "Hilda, will you show these gentlemen to the freight elevator? I think they'll want to avoid some people at the main entrance to the building. And tell Furman Bisher and the gentleman from the AP that I won't be available today." Schaefer followed them as far as the reception room. When they had gone, he peeled off two hundred-dollar bills and gave them to the detectives. "Thanks, fellas," he said, shaking hands with both of them. "I'll see you next time." As Schaefer returned, smiling, to his desk, he reflected that he had just paid his office rent for the next several years.

CHAPTER 4
    Schaefer arrived at Piedmont Hospital carrying a small suitcase, his briefcase, a shopping bag from the fancy grocer across the street, and two dozen yellow roses. He found Elizabeth Barwick sitting up in bed, sipping orange juice through a glass straw. He took it away from her and set it on the bedside table. "You shouldn't be drinking straight orange juice," he said, opening half a bottle of champagne and adding some to her glass. "It should be diluted." He handed her the glass.
    She did not immediately drink. "Al, I've been thinking about my demands since we last talked. I think I overreached, and I don't want you to feel badly if you get less. I've figured out how to do what I want to do for about a hundred thousand."
    Schaefer wagged a finger. "Business later, first roses." He laid the flowers across her lap. "This room needs a little more color."
    "Thank you, Al, they're very nice."
    "I want you to know that I would have been here sooner, but Harry Estes wanted me to wait until you were a day away from the surgery. How are you feeling?"
    He looked closely at her. All he could see was her eyes and a strip of face where the mouth was. It was obvious that her long hair had been cut. A tight cap of gauze was wrapped around her head. "I'm feeling well, if a little anxious. Harry says it went extremely well. I'm leaving the hospital tomorrow."
    "About that,"
    Schaefer said, "I have some news." He handed her a key. "That's to your new apartment. It's a sublet—the owner is traveling for the next three months. It's on a nice street in the Virginia-Highland area.