Justice Denied by Robert K. Tanenbaum

Author:Robert K. Tanenbaum [Tanenbaum, Robert K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: police, Mystery & Detective, Assassination, New York (N.Y.), Legal, Fiction, General, Espionage
ISBN: 9780451184894
Publisher: Signet Book
Published: 1995-07-19T04:00:00+00:00

10

Karp came floating up out of the pentathol fog, out of the dream he always had when he was anesthetized, the one with the little room full of dead people in it, people he knew, his mother, his grandparents, and victims of murder. They were whispering the secrets of the dead, and however hard he strained his dream ears, he could never quite make them out.

He opened his eyes. A white shape swam into view, and resolved itself into Marlene’s face. Karp tried to speak, croaked, and touched his lips. Marlene passed him a plastic cup with a bent straw attached. He drank and said, “I survived.”

“Of course you survived, you big silly. How does your knee feel?”

Karp looked down at the massive plaster log lying on the bed where his leg used to be. “I don’t know—it feels different.” A thought struck him. “My God, I have an artificial organ.”

“This disturbs you?”

“It’s better than being crippled, assuming I’m actually not crippled. Did you see Hudson, the bastard?”

“Yeah, we conversed. He said it went fine, and provided you don’t abuse it and come to physical therapy like you’re supposed to—which he doubts you’ll do, by the way—you shouldn’t have any trouble.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hudson.” He relaxed back on the pillows, and they chatted about Lucy and about inconsequentials for a while. Karp’s head slowly cleared. He said briskly, “So, what’s up in the big world? Did you see Roland?”

“Yeah, I made his month with that information about Ersoy’s loot. He was practically cackling.”

“Let him cackle. It’s still a frame job. Anything on the connection with Kerbussyan?”

“No. Hey, it’s been one day, okay? I plan on getting with V.T. to see if there’s a money trail connecting the two of them. Maybe Kerbussyan got hold of ripped-off Turkish art treasures and the Turk was buying it back.”

The Turk. The conversation with Guma still plucked at Karp’s mind. Turks and Armenians. Funny money. A gang of wise guys that specialized in taking things from airports. And the Alphabet City women. The pattern wouldn’t emerge, and maybe there wasn’t one at all. Maybe he and Marlene had been doing this too long, so that the need of the mind to make sense of the random and unpredictable violence of the City was producing hallucinations of meaning.

“What about the sex maniac?” he asked.

“Harry’s going to take me around there tonight, show me the guys.”

“They have cops for that, Marlene,” he rumbled. “Heavily armed and trained cops.”

“I don’t want to hear this, Butch.”

He said a curse under his breath, reached for the water cup, found he couldn’t twist his body far enough around to reach it, and fell back, frustrated and angry.

“I hate this,” he said as she passed him the cup. He held her hand, running his thumb across the warm meat of her palm. “And I’m horny.”

“That’s good news,” said Marlene. “A complete recovery can be expected. Does the door lock?”

“You’re not serious.”

She got up from the bed and discovered that while the door didn’t lock, the hallway outside was deserted.

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