The Naked Face Read Free Page A

I've ever been in,' Angeli said, openly impressed. 'I wish my house looked like this.' 'It relaxes my patients,' Judd said easily. 'And by the way, I'm a psychoanalyst.' 'Sorry,' Angeli said. 'What's the difference?' 'About fifty dollars an hour,' McGreavy said. 'My partner doesn't get around much.' Partner. And Judd suddenly remembered. McGreavy's partner had been shot and killed and McGreavy had been wounded during the holdup of a liquor store four - or was it five? - years ago. A petty hoodlum named Amos Ziffren had been arrested for the crime. Ziffren's attorney had pleaded his client not guilty by reason of insanity. Judd had been called in as an expert for the defence and asked to examine Ziffren. He had found that he was hopelessly insane with advanced paresis. On Judd's testimony, Ziffren had escaped the death penalty and had been sent to a mental institution. 'I remember you now,' Judd said. 'The Ziffren case. You had three bullets in you; your partner was killed.' 'And I remember you,' McGreavy said. 'You got the killer off.' 'What can I do for you?' 'We need some information, Doctor,' McGreavy said He nodded to Angeli. Angeli began fumbling at the string on the package he carried. 'We'd like you to identify something for us,' McGreavy said. His voice was careful, giving nothing away. Angeli had the package open. He held up a yellow oilskin rain slicker. 'Have you ever seen this before?' 'It looks like mine,' Judd said in surprise, 'It is yours. At least your name is stencilled inside.' 'Where did you find it?' 'Where do you think we found it?' The two men were no longer casual A subtle change had taken place in their faces. Judd studied McGreavy a moment, then picked up a pipe from a rack on a long, low table and began to fill it with tobacco from a jar. 'I think you'd better tell me what this is all about,' he said quietly. 'It's about this raincoat, Dr. Stevens,” said McGreavy. 'If it's yours, we want to know how it got out of your possession.' There's no mystery about it. It was drizzling when I came in this morning. My raincoat was at the cleaners, so I wore the yellow slicker. I keep it for fishing trips. One of my patients hadn't brought a raincoat. It was beginning to snow pretty heavily, so I let him borrow the slicker.' He stopped, suddenly worried. 'What's happened to him?' 'Happened to who?' McGreavy asked. 'My patient - John Hanson.' 'Check,' Angeli said gently. 'You hit the bull's-eye. The reason Mr. Hanson couldn't return the coat himself is that he's dead.' Judd felt a small shock go through him. 'Dead?' 'Someone stuck a knife in his back,' McGreavy said. Judd stared at him increduously. McGreavy took the coat from Angeli and turned it around so that Judd could see the large, ugly slash in the material. The back of the coat was covered with dull, henna-coloured stains. A feeling of nausea swept over Judd. 'Who would want to kill him?' 'We were hoping that you could tell us, Dr. Stevens,' said Angeli. 'Who'd know better than his psychoanalyst?' Judd shook his head helplessly. 'When did it happen?' McGreavy answered. 'Eleven o'clock this morning. On Lexington Avenue, about a block from your office. A few dozen people must have seen him fall, but they were busy going home to get ready to celebrate the birth of Christ, so they let him lie there bleeding to death in the snow.' Judd squeezed the edge of the table, his knuckles white. 'What time was Hanson here this morning?' asked Angeli. 'Ten o'clock.' 'How long do your sessions last. Doctor?' 'Fifty minutes.' 'Did he leave as soon as it was over?' 'Yes. I had another patient waiting.' 'Did Hanson go out through the reception office?“ 'No. My patients come in through the reception office and leave by that door.' He indicated the private door leading to the outside corridor. 'In that way they don't meet each other.' McGreavy nodded. 'So Hanson was killed within a few minutes of the time he left here. Why was he coming to see you?' Judd hesitated. 'I'm