Lieberman's Thief by Stuart M. Kaminsky

Author:Stuart M. Kaminsky [Kaminsky, Stuart M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4804-0022-1
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2012-12-14T20:24:00+00:00

Confrontations

HANRAHAN WAS LATE. WHEN Lieberman called him and told him to get to the station, Bill Hanrahan had just finished shaving and putting on his clothes. His tie was still open, but that could wait till he got to the front door.

He had pulled in the Tribune, read the Rozier story at the top of page two, and found that Captain Kearney had been quoted to the effect that there were several good leads, that the crime was one of the most wanton and savage he had ever worked on, and that Harvey Rozier was bearing up remarkably well.

Hanrahan was on his second cup of coffee. He had eight more in the coffee maker. He hadn’t bought a new, smaller machine when Maureen left him, and it was automatic with him to grind the beans and fill the machine with ten cups. He’d reheat it in the microwave when he got home at night and dump what was left when he went to bed. Caffeine didn’t keep Hanrahan awake at nights. Sometimes his shattered knees ached and the need for the prescription pills that eased the pain woke him in a cold sweat, but usually it was thoughts, thoughts of Maureen, Iris, the boys. He fought the rage and bitterness and the lure of the bottle, and each day he won, but it took a lot out of him. And he needed coffee.

Someone knocked at the front door. Hanrahan put down the newspaper and, cup of coffee in hand, went to the door, opened it, and found himself looking at three Oriental men. All were dressed in dark suits. The one in the middle looked like one of those dogs with the wrinkled faces. The ancient man wore thick glasses and carried a cane, simple, bamboo.

“Mr. Hanrahan,” the old man said. “May I have but a brief word with you?”

Hanrahan looked at the two younger men. They looked fit and smart, probably knew some martial arts crap that looked good in the movies. No, he decided quickly, they had too much class for that, and besides, the bigger one to the old man’s left was definitely carrying a weapon under his jacket. He didn’t need martial arts.

“I’ve only got a few minutes,” Hanrahan said, stepping back to let them in.

“That is all we shall take,” said the old man, nodding as he and the other two stepped into Hanrahan’s living room.

Hanrahan closed the door as the old man looked around the room.

“Modest and clean,” the old man said with approval.

“Glad you like it,” said Hanrahan. “Coffee’s in the kitchen. We can sit.”

“You know who I am?” asked the old man, following Hanrahan to the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t take much of a detective to figure it out,” Hanrahan said, holding the door open so the trio could enter the kitchen.

Hanrahan motioned the men to the table. Laio Woo closed his eyes and nodded at the other two men to sit. They did and so did he.

“Do you take anything in your coffee?”

“Black for all of us,” said Woo, placing his cane on the kitchen table.

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