The Lazarus Trap Read Online Free PDF Page A

other bars you could have gone to for a drink, Mr. Adams. Safer places closer to your hotel. I assume you’re staying somewhere midtown?”
    â€œI wish I knew.”
    â€œSo what we have is a night of heavy drinking, with possibly some recreational drug use added for good measure. Then you were slipped something that brought you to the verge of unconsciousness. After which you were struck repeatedly on the head.” Another swift smile. “I’m surprised you made it this far on your own steam, Mr. Adams.”
    â€œEverything hurts.”
    â€œYou’ll get over it. I don’t want to give you anything for the pain unless you’re in desperate agony. It might only slow the process of your brain ridding itself of whatever toxic mix it’s struggling through already. Can you manage?”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œCome back if you can’t. I’ll leave a note in your file saying whoever is on duty should give you a prescription for Percodan.”
    â€œCan you suggest someplace for me to stay?”
    The doctor halted in the process of reopening the curtains. “Excuse me?”
    â€œI don’t know where I was booked. I need someplace to sleep.”
    â€œWouldn’t you prefer someplace south of the park?”
    He found himself unable to confess just how desperate he was not to lose connection to the one face that seemed concerned about him. “I’d rather stay around here.”
    She drew the curtains aside in a slow sweep. “The Everest is around the corner on Lenox. It’s clean and safe. Or as safe as you can get in this area.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œTrauma such as you’ve experienced can result in a sense of severe disorientation. More than likely your memory will begin to return in a series of flashes. It could be very disconcerting. Remember what I’m saying, Mr. Adams. This is a normal part of the process. But if you have not seen any improvement within the next forty-eight hours, I want you to stop by and see me again.” A final smile. “Now go get some rest.”

    He stopped at a men’s store midway down the same block as the Everest Hotel, desperate to get out of clothes that felt glued to his frame. He dared not move enough to try anything on. He pulled items from the shelves and carried them to a Hispanic shopkeeper who watched impassively as he peeled the cash off his roll.
    The shopping bag formed his only luggage as he entered the hotel. The Everest was a postwar brownstone conversion with an ancient mosaic on the lobby floor and an authentic brass railing around the check-in counter.
    The desk manager was a light-heavyweight who showed no curiosity whatsoever over his battered state. “How do you want to pay for this?”
    â€œIs cash okay?”
    â€œCash is always okay by me. Long as you don’t mind leaving me a two-night deposit. You got some kind of ID?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThe authorities, they’re very big on us keeping records. Me, I’m not so worried.” The clerk could have easily tossed his new guest across the room. His neck was too thick for the shirt collar to be buttoned. His shoulders formed lumpy ridges beneath his jacket collar. “Long as my guests are willing to pay for the service.”
    â€œHow much extra?”
    â€œCall it another twenty a night.”
    Remaining anonymous until his head straightened out sounded like a very good idea. He set another forty dollars on the counter.
    The desk clerk made the bills disappear. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Smith.”
    Soon as he entered the room, the bedside clock caught his eye. He stood on the frayed carpet and stared at the red numbers counting out time that was not his to claim. Somewhere there was a life ticking away without him.
    He picked up the phone. The receiver felt sticky with old sweat. He pulled out his shirttail and wiped it down. He dialed the operator.
    â€œDesk.”
    â€œHow do I