The Death Instinct by Jed Rubenfeld Read Free Book Online

Littlemore. 'You know you're bleeding pretty good.'
        'What do you mean you doubt it?'
        'If I put a uniform outside the front door,' the detective explained, 'the guy doesn't use the front door. He goes out a side door. Or a back door. We would have needed six men minimum.'
        'Then why didn't you bring six men?' asked Younger, advancing toward Littlemore.
        'Easy, Doc.'
        'Why didn't you?'
        'You want to know why? Besides the fact that I had no reason to,
        I couldn't have gotten six men if I had tried. I couldn't have gotten one. The force is a little busy tonight, in case you hadn't noticed. I'm not even supposed to be here.'
        Instead of responding, Younger shoved Littlemore in the chest. 'Go back then.'
        "What's the matter with you?' asked Littlemore.
        'I'll tell you why you didn't stop him. You weren't paying any goddamned attention.'
        'Me? Who waited four hours before noticing that his girlfriend had disappeared when she was supposed to be gone for half an hour?'
        'Because you took her,' shouted Younger, taking a straight left jab at Littlemore's head. The detective ducked this blow, but Younger, who know how to fight, had thrown a punch designed to make Littlemore tin just that Younger followed it with a clean right, putting Littlemore on the carpet and taking a lamp down with him.
        'Son of a gun,' said Littlemore from the floor, his lip bloody.
        He sprang toward Younger, charging low and driving him backward all the way across the room. Younger's head snapped back against the wall. When they came to a standstill, Littlemore had his right fist raised and ready, but Younger was staring blankly over his shoulder.
        'How many died today?' asked Younger. 'Thirty?'
        'Thirty-six,' said Littlemore, fist still raised.
        ' Thirty-six,' repeated Younger contemptuously. 'And the whole city's paralyzed. I hate the dead.'
        Neither man spoke. Younger sank to a sitting position on the floor. Littlemore sat down near him.
        'I'm taking you to a hospital,' said Littlemore.
    'Try it.'
        'You know I outrank you,' said the detective.
        Younger raised an eyebrow.
        'Captain beats lieutenant,' added Littlemore.
        A police captain doesn't outrank a doughboy in boot camp.'
        'Captain beats lieutenant,' repeated Littlemore.
        A silence.
        'What do you mean you hate the dead?' asked Littlemore.
        'Luc wrote that to me - Colette's brother. He doesn't talk. I was - what was I doing? I was reading a book he'd given me. Then he handed me a note that said, "I hate the dead."' Younger looked at the detective. 'Sorry about - about-'
        'Slugging me in the jaw?'
        'Blaming you,' said Younger. 'It's my fault. My fault they're in America. My fault she went off by herself.'
        'We'll get them back,' said Littlemore.
        Younger described what he'd witnessed from the balcony. Littlemore asked him what kind of car he had seen. Younger couldn't say. He'd been too far overhead. He couldn't even be sure of the color.
        'We'll get them back,' Littlemore repeated.
        'How?' asked Younger.
        'Here's what we do. I go to headquarters and put out a bulletin. We'll have the whole force looking for this guy by tomorrow. You wait here in case they send a ransom note. Meantime I question the old lady you met with. What's her name?'
        'Mrs William B. Meloney. Thirty-one West Twelfth.'
        'Maybe she told some other people about the samples Colette brought with her.'
        'It's possible,' said Younger.
        'So maybe the wrong kind of person found out.' At the doorway, Littlemore added: 'Do me a favor. Patch up your head.'

Chapter Four
        
        Liberty, equality, fraternity - terrorist: the word comes from the French Revolution. The Reign of Terror was the name given to Robespierre's ferocious rule.