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

and surprise.
    ‘Hello there Sonny,’ the voice said.
    Harper swallowed awkwardly. He turned.
    ‘How’ve you been keeping?’
    Older, much older, but the voice, the face, the smile – everything was unmistakable.
    For a while, a handful of years after Garrett died, there was a family friend, a man called Walt Freiberg. He came every once in a while; he gave Evelyn money, brought gifts for John, called him ‘Sonny’. A drinking man, always smelled of liquor; thick neck, dark eyes, fingers swollen and red at the tips as if cauterized to stop them fraying. Laughed like an express train through a smoky tunnel. Visited infrequently until Harper reached his teens, and then he too disappeared into the maw of living that was New York.
    Now Walt Freiberg stood right behind him, and as Harper turned Freiberg raised his arms and put his hands on Harper’s shoulders.
    ‘You’re here,’ Freiberg said.
    Harper didn’t move. There were no words to express what he felt. There was too much emotion, too much feeling altogether – memories flooding back, a sense of anger, something akin to loss, something else that threatened the very structure of his body as he stood shaking and sweating and trying to keep it all together.
    ‘I was so hoping you’d come,’ Freiberg said. ‘I called Evelyn and told her to get you here. She was surprised to hear from me after all these years, but considering the circumstances I felt it was the right thing to do.’
    ‘I . . . I don’t know—’
    Freiberg smiled. He pulled Harper close and hugged him. The prodigal son returned. ‘It’s okay, Sonny,’ he said, and Harper felt like a child, all of nine or ten years old, standing in the bay window of the Carmine Street house as Uncle Walt came out the back of a yellow cab with flowers for Evelyn and birthday gifts for himself.
    ‘He’s here,’ Freiberg said. ‘He tried to stop someone robbing a liquor store—’
    Freiberg released Harper and stepped back. ‘Christ almighty . . . you look like him, John, you
really
do look so much like him. It’s good to see you, so very good to see you after all these years . . . such a terrible thing, such a terrible reason for you to see him, but. . .’
    Freiberg’s voice trailed away. He closed his eyes for a moment. He sighed and shook his head. ‘We’ll go up now.’
    Harper nodded involuntarily.
    Freiberg stepped in front of the desk and smiled at Nancy Cooper. ‘We’d like to go on up and see Mr Bernstein if that’s okay?’
    Nancy shook her head. ‘He’s in Intensive Care right now. You won’t be able to go in and actually see him, but they might let you into the ante-room. Third floor, turn right as you come out of the elevator. Speak to one of the orderlies and they’ll find you a duty doctor.’
    Freiberg thanked the woman and then, with his hand on Harper’s shoulder, guided him to the elevator.
    At one point Harper slowed and stopped. He turned, eyes wide, his face pale and drawn, every muscle in his body tense and jagged.
    ‘It’s okay,’ Freiberg said. ‘Just go with it Sonny . . . just go with it.’
    Third floor, heading right as they came out of the elevator just like Nancy told them. Long corridor, sound of shoes on the linoleum, sound of shoes echoing back from above and beside, heart beating in Harper’s chest. Felt like a kid. Uncle Walt’s hand on his elbow, guiding him, being there for him. Like when he was little. Uncle Walt coming with presents from the back of the car, and small Harper never really understanding why Aunt Ev made him feel so unwelcome. Tension in the house between them, tension you could feel.
    And then, suddenly, Walt Freiberg slowed down as they neared the end of the corridor. To their right was a wide window, must have been eight or ten feet, and through it Harper saw a man in a suit talking to a doctor.
    ‘What the fu—’ Uncle Walt started, and then he said ‘Stay here, John . . . just stay right here a minute.’
    Harper was rooted to