Lieberman's Day Read Free

supporting the woman. The distance between the couple and the two men narrowed.
    â€œNow, now, now,” Raymond suddenly urged, and both men hurried forward.
    George almost fell. He reached for the chill branches of a bare bush next to the building and kept himself erect.
    Now the couple was next to the black metal gate of a fence around an old gray house, a holdout family home in the forest of high-rises. A brass plaque against the house identified it as the offices of J.W.R. Ranpur, M.D., Cardiologist. There were no lights on in the home and office of Dr. Ranpur. Raymond had checked this only half an hour earlier. He had also checked to be sure the metal gate was open.
    â€œStop,” Raymond said, stepping in front of the couple.
    As he had been told to do, George moved close behind the man and woman, hovering over them.
    The couple stopped.
    Now Raymond, by the hazy light of the nearby streetlamp, could see the faces of his victims. The woman was pale, pretty, with a rough, frightened face whose cheeks were chilled pink. The man, who seemed curious but not frightened, was short, a bit on the pudgy side. He wore glasses that were partly frosted along the upper rim.
    â€œIn here,” said Raymond, opening the gate, watching to be sure no cars stopped.
    It would, he hoped, look like nothing more than four people chatting in front of a house.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” asked the man.
    Raymond removed his hand from his pocket and showed the pudgy man his gun, a gun he had bought only the day before for fifteen dollars and which he was not at all sure would fire.
    â€œStep in there, man,” he said, nodding through the gate. “You lose a few dollars and you and the lady go on.”
    â€œI don’t …” the man started.
    â€œCome on, come on here,” George said, pulling out his own gun and shoving it into the back of the man with the Russian fur hat. George wanted that hat. But more than the hat he wanted to be out of there.
    â€œDavid,” the woman said, “do it. Give them your wallet.”
    â€œNot out here,” Raymond hissed, looking back over his shoulder. “Get through the gate, man.”
    With George following close behind, the woman pulled at the arm of the man with the hat, and they edged through the gate.
    Frozen grass crunched under George’s feet as he pushed the man and woman toward the shadows of Dr. Ranpur’s house.
    â€œI’ll give it to you,” said David. “Let’s not panic here.”
    â€œNo one is panicking, man,” said Raymond, looking toward the house and then the street. “Just don’t give trouble.”
    â€œCome on, come on,” George said, reaching up to remove his hat and shoving it in his pocket before yanking the man’s hat from his head and putting it on his own. The hat was just a little too small and gave him an instant headache. But it was warm.
    Without a hat the white man in front of him looked younger than George had thought him, even though the man’s hair was getting thin. He reminded George of some actor.
    â€œTake what you want,” David said, holding one hand protectively in front of Carol and reaching into the pocket under his jacket with the other. “Just don’t touch her. She’s going to …”
    â€œTouch …? What you think we are?” asked George indignantly. “You think we gonna rape your woman out here like on an iceberg? What you think we are?”
    Raymond took the wallet from David and shoved it into the frayed pocket of his blue ski jacket.
    â€œShut up,” he said.
    Carol let out a small sound like an island dove and her bareheaded husband took her in his arms.
    â€œDavid,” she said softly. “Please …”
    â€œDon’t you be saying that in front of these people,” said George, facing Raymond. “Don’t you be putting me down like you some kind of boss man.”
    â€œFur,” said