City Of Lies by R.J. Ellory Read Free Book Online

minute will you?’ Faulkner says.
    Duchaunak stands awkwardly for a moment, and then sits down heavily. Looks, just for a moment, like a short man who needs a long drink.
    ‘He was shot last night, early evening . . . some liquor store up near Washington Square Park.’
    ‘Shot?’
    Faulkner nods. ‘Chest wound . . . pretty bad they say. He’s in intensive care, hooked up to everything they’ve got and then some. Not sure he’ll make it, his age an’ all, you know?’
    ‘Jesus,’ Duchaunak sighs. ‘What happened? Was it Marcus? Did Ben Marcus do this?’
    Faulkner sort of half smiles, like he feels awkward relaying what he’s been told. He shrugs. ‘Well, no . . .’
    ‘Well, no what?’ Duchaunak asks.
    ‘What they said was that he tried to stop someone robbing a liquor store—’
    Duchaunak starts to laugh, a nervous sound, the sound of someone told something they cannot quite comprehend, or perhaps something that so obviously contradicts what they know to be the truth. Was this what it would come to? After all this time, was this how it would end? ‘He tried to stop someone robbing a liquor store?’ he asks, and though it sounds like a question it’s one of those questions that isn’t really a question at all; still he sounds like a nervous man, a man unsettled by something profound and significant.
    ‘’S what I was told,’ Faulkner says. ‘You want to go see him?’
    Duchaunak is nodding his head, rising from the chair again. ‘Of course I want to go see him . . . just to make sure he dies for real this time.’
    Faulkner smiles. ‘You have issues, Frank Duchaunak . . . maybe your daddy didn’t hug you enough when you were a kid.’
    Duchaunak doesn’t reply. He’s walking towards the door.
    Faulkner shakes his head and sighs. He goes to the counter to pay for the meal. It is his birthday. Duchaunak had been the one to suggest the meal. Duchaunak had promised to pay.
Such is the way of the world
, Faulkner thinks, and then wonders if that really was the case, if it really
was
the way of the world, or if he was onthe rough end of something awkward with little chance of reprieve.
    Ten minutes later Frank Duchaunak pulls the car out onto Varick, doubles back towards West Broadway, and takes a route towards St Vincent’s that would avoid the gridlock on Sixth and Seventh. At some point he mumbles something.
    ‘You what?’ Faulkner asks.
    Duchaunak shakes his head.
    ‘What did you say?’
    ‘I said that I take back what I said earlier.’
    ‘About what?’
    ‘About going to make sure Lenny dies for real this time.’
    ‘Eh?’ Faulkner frowns, one of those concerned frowns that indicate a degree of anxiety about another’s mental state.
    ‘It wouldn’t be right.’
    ‘What?’ Faulkner says, surprise evident in his tone. ‘But—’
    ‘I know, I know, I know,’ Duchaunak interjects. ‘I know it might not make sense, but I really don’t think it would be right for a man like him to die like this.’
    Faulkner hesitates for a second, and then says, ‘I know what you mean, Frank . . . know exactly what you mean.’ He is quiet for a moment, and then, ‘You reckon the thing is still going to go ahead? You reckon they’re still going to do this thing if Lenny’s out of the picture?’
    Duchaunak shrugs. ‘Aah, Christ only knows, Don. I still haven’t got my head around how these people think. Let’s just go up there and see what happened, okay?’
    ‘Okay,’ Faulkner says. ‘We go see what happened.’
    Neither of them speaks again until they reach the lot behind St Vincent’s Hospital on West Twelfth and Seventh. Duchaunak parks the car, sits there for a moment without uttering a word, and then he opens the door and steps out.
    ‘You go,’ Faulkner says, almost as an afterthought. ‘It doesn’t need both of us.’
    Duchaunak doesn’t reply. He slams the door shut and starts walking towards the hospital.

FIVE
    ‘A bold Sumatra,’ the coffee guy said. ‘Which is kind