Amnesia by G. H. Ephron Read Free Book Online Page A

did a feature article on me in the Living section. He’d framed a copy and hung it in the conference room over a sign that said: “Our Fearless Leader.”
    â€œPeter, you’re sure this is a smart thing? How’d they talk you into it?”
    â€œActually, they let me talk myself into it.”
    Kwan gave me a knowing look. “Smart. That and a little flattery — does it every time.”
    â€œGood morning, I suppose.” It was Gloria. She yawned and sank heavily into the desk chair. “Could one of you take pity on me and pour me some coffee?”
    Kwan folded the paper and tucked it under his arm. “Have trouble sleeping?” he asked.
    â€œI slept like a stone, once I finally got home. I had to work a double.” I poured Gloria a mug of coffee and handed it to her. She cupped her hands around it, closed her eyes, inhaled, and took a sip. “Ah, that’s better.” She looked at Kwan. “Did you tell him about last night’s excitement?”
    â€œI was getting to it,” Kwan said.
    Gloria frowned and looked from Kwan to me and back again.
Normally, we’d have discussed anything that went bump in the night first thing the next morning.
    â€œGo ahead,” Kwan suggested, “why don’t you tell him.”
    Gloria started. “Kootz got into it with O’Flanagan and —”
    Kwan jumped in, “and belted him upside the head, as they say.”
    â€œI thought you were going to let me tell this?” Gloria complained.
    Kwan put up his hands in surrender and the newspaper fell to the floor. Gloria and I collided reaching for it but she got there first. She continued, holding the newspaper and waving it as she talked. “I didn’t get in there until the fireworks were over. I think O’Flanagan was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I know what that’s like … .” She stopped. “What are you staring at?” She looked at the folded newspaper still in her hand, then back up at me, her head cocked to one side. “I may be tired but I’m not dead. Something’s up.” She opened the newspaper. “What is it?”
    I pointed. She read the article. Then she took off her glasses and frowned. “Peter, you sure you’re ready for this?”
    I shrugged. I didn’t know any such thing. “I got snookered. One minute I’m agreeing to an hour’s consult and then, before I know it, I’m evaluating the surviving eyewitness.”
    Her look hardened. “Peter, if you get snookered, it’s because you want to get snookered.”
    Gloria was right. I hadn’t been snookered. I’d taken the bait, nibbled on it, liked the taste, then chewed and swallowed. Now I had heartburn.
    I sighed. “I’ve got a phone call to make and then I think I’ll check in on Mr. O’Flanagan.”
    I walked down to the conference room to use the phone. On the way, my beeper went off. I was relieved that it wasn’t my mother. Whatever it was would hold until after I’d called her. She picked up on the first half-ring.
    â€œHello, dear,” she chirped. She didn’t know yet.

    â€œListen, I wanted you to hear it from me first —”
    â€œWhat should I hear from you first?”
    â€œI was thinking about working with the Public Defender’s Office on a new case.” It didn’t sound so bad when I put it that way. Unfortunately, it was a lie. “Actually, I’ve already started working on it.”
    Silence.
    â€œMom?” More silence. “You still there?”
    â€œOf course I am. And here’s what I think of the idea. Bubkes. You don’t make enough money there at that fancy hospital you work at?”
    Nagging — it was a rare tactical error. For a moment, at least, I could feel put upon. “It’s not the money,” I said. My voice sounded brittle.
    â€œSo what is it then?”
    That stopped