Death Wish Read Free

you’re the whiz kid. Tell me what to do.”
    â€œWell, you probably know the dodges as well as I do.”
    â€œThe hell. Who’s got time to read all that crappy fine-print?” The man had an annual gross income in the neighborhood of a million dollars and didn’t have time to read the Internal Revenue Code. Paul shook his head. Nemserman growled, “What do you suggest?”
    â€œWell, of course you’ve got the standard gambits. Inflate your expenses grotesquely—they may buy part of it. You could cut thirty-five thousand off your tax bill by getting married, of course.”
    â€œForget that.”
    â€œYou could establish some trusts, taxable at the twenty-six percent rate. That would cut you back to the capital-gain level. It’s a little late in the year to try that, but if you moved fast you might swing it.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œOr foundations. You can set up your own foundation and donate money to it, and then borrow the money back from the foundation.”
    â€œHow do I do that?”
    â€œIRS Form Ten-twenty-three. You fill it out and send it in to apply for tax-exempt charitable status. If you can make your foundation look religious or educational or charitable, you’re in.”
    â€œWhat are you waiting for then? Set me up a foundation.”
    â€œIt would be better if you had your lawyer do that, Mr. Nemserman.”
    â€œOh. Yeah. Well, okay, Benjamin. Thanks. I’ll get right on it. Christ, they’re bandits, these federal guys, you know that? Christ, what a puking mess we’re in in this country.”
    â€œWell, maybe you’ll get a sympathetic computer.”
    â€œHaw.” Nemserman hung up on him without amenities and Paul leaned back in the chair filled with amused disbelief. After a moment he uttered a jocular bark of laughter. He laced his hands behind his neck and reared his head back lazily.
    The smog was burning off the river and he saw a freighter fighting its way up against the current, screws churning the water. The electric plant was making a lot of smoke on the Queens side of the river.
    The headache was gone; he felt good. Forty-seven years old, a little overweight maybe but in good health; all you really needed was a few laughs and with friends like Sam Kreutzer and Bill Dundee, and clients like Nemserman, the requirement wasn’t hard to meet.
    He reached for the stack in his In box.
    The intercom.
    â€œIt’s your son-in-law, Mr. Benjamin? Mr. Tobey?” Urgency in Thelma’s voice. “He says it’s an emergency?”
    He punched the lighted button on the phone, more puzzled than alarmed. “Hello, Jack?”
    â€œPop, I—something’s happened.” Jack Tobey’s voice was metallic—emotion held severely in check.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œI don’t—oh, hell, there’s no way. Look, they got mugged. Right in the fucking apartment. I’m on my way over to——”
    â€œJack, what the hell are you talking about?”
    â€œThey—I’m sorry, Pop. I’ll try to make sense. I just got a phone call. Carol—and Mom. Somebody broke in, beat them up, God knows why. They’re taking them in an ambulance over to emergency receiving at Roosevelt Hospital—you know where it is?”
    â€œOn West Fifty-ninth?”
    â€œYes. I think—I think Mom’s pretty bad. Carol told the cops to call me.”
    Cops. Paul blinked and gripped the receiver hard. “But what happened? How are they? Did you call Doctor Rosen?”
    â€œI tried. He’s out of town.”
    â€œMy God. But what hap pened ? ”
    â€œI don’t know. I’m on my way up there. The cop was pretty brusque on the phone.”
    â€œBut what—”
    â€œLook, Pop, we’d better not waste time on the telephone. I’ll meet you up there.”
    â€œAll right.”
    He put down the phone and stared at the freckled back