The Hearing Read Online Free PDF

Abe?”
    “Nothing.”
    “You all right?” After a lengthy silence, Hardy said, “You want to talk about it?”
    “There’s nothing to talk about.” Glitsky’s chair scraped. He pushed himself back from his desk and leaned into the wall behind him on the chair’s back legs.
    Hardy’s eyes were adjusting. He gave it another try. “It’s after five o’clock. You feel like a drink?”
    “I don’t drink.”
    “Really? Since when?” Hardy had only been Glitsky’s pal for twenty-five years. “Sometimes it’s not the worst idea in the world.”
    Glitsky came forward in his chair, clasped his hands on the desk before him. When he spoke, his voice had softened. “I’m trying to work something out, all right. Meanwhile, what can I help you with?”
    There was nothing to be gained from pushing Glitsky’s issue, whatever it was, so Hardy drew a breath and started. “You’ve got a guy across the way there, Cole Burgess—”
    “Yeah. Elaine Wager’s killer.”
    “Alleged killer, as we say in the defense biz.”
    “Are you defending him?”
    “No.”
    “I hope not.”
    “And I’m not here to spring her killer.”
    “Okay. Then what’s this about?”
    Hardy calmly and briefly stated the reason for his visit, his connection to Cole’s sister Dorothy, the rest of it. “His sister’s worried that he slipped through the cracks when they brought him in and the paramedics never got around to diagnosing him as a heroin user. Anyway, the point is he’s got to get into detox pronto or he’s going to have a bad week.”
    “Really? That would be sad.”
    “Well, anyway . . .”
    “He was drunk, Diz. We’ve had him up here since last night, mostly puking his guts. We’re still talking to him.”
    “Yeah, but now it’s been what? Eighteen hours? He might still be hungover, but he’s dry. All I’m saying is we know he’s a junkie. He’s got to get in a program.”
    But Glitsky was shaking his head. “No. I’m not buying into that scam.”
    “What scam?”
    “Couple of days on the county in a nice soft hospital bed. That’s not happening. He was drunk, that’s all.”
    This was not the response Hardy expected. Abe was a due process freak—he played by the rules. Maybe, Hardy thought, it was the other thing, the dark room, whatever else was eating him. He started to debate. “C’mon, Abe, how can you know . . . ?”
    Glitsky slammed his palm flat on his desk, raised his voice. “He was drunk! That’s all he was, all right? We Mirandized him, he’s talking, we’ll book him when we’re through. You hear me? Just leave this one.”
    Stupefied, Hardy sat back in his chair. “What’s going on, Abe?” he asked quietly. “I can’t just leave it. You know that.”
    “He killed Elaine.”
    “Okay. And we hope he burns in hell for it. But his sister told me he was probably already in withdrawal this morning. He’s got to get some treatment.”
    Glitsky remained unmoved. “When they process him in, they’ll give him the standard tests. If it’s heroin, they’ll know soon enough.”
    “When will that happen?”
    A shrug. “When we’re done here.”
    Hardy took that in. “You mind if I ask what he’s doing here right now?”
    “Answering questions.” Glitsky came forward in his chair. “And FYI, he waived an attorney. Though maybe if he’d known it was you . . .”
    “He doesn’t know me.” Hardy sat back, shifted angrily in his chair. “You’re sweating him, aren’t you?” He glanced toward the door, came back to the lieutenant. “If you were sitting where I am, Abe, you’d tell me something was wrong here. That I wasn’t doing my job right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.”
    Glitsky’s face was a slab. He said nothing.
    Hardy sighed. “Have you videotaped a confession?”
    A crisp nod. “I believe we’re in the process of doing that very thing.”
    Hardy’s blood was running now. He spoke carefully. “So if I’m moving ahead and getting him