THE KING OF TORTS

1 2 THE KING OF TORTS ‘JOHN GRISHAM Original title: The King of Torts Traduccion de Maria Antonia Menini First edition: March 2003 Ediciones B, SA, Bakery 2003 Printed in Argentina 1 The firing of bullets that entered Pumpkin’s head were heard by no less than eighty people. Three of them instinctively closed the windows, checked the locks on your doors and retreated to safety or, at least, the safety of their small apartments. Two others, both with experience in similar situations, the place ran away as fast as the gunman attorneys himself, if not more. Another, the neighborhood recycling fanatic, was stirring the garbage in search of aluminum cans when he heard there very near the strong sounds of the daily skirmishes. He hid in a jump behind a pile of cardboard boxes and once the shooting stopped walked slowly out to the alley, where legal I discovered what was left of Pumpkin. And two saw almost everything. They were sitting on some plastic crates of milk at the corner of Georgia and Lamont in front of a liquor store, partially hidden by a parked car, which is why the gunman, who looked around briefly before following Pumpkin into the alley, did not notice him. Both men would later told police the boy had been carrying the gun into his pocket and pull it out of this, and also had seen the gun, a small black pistol, without a hint of doubt. Director of Emigrant Savings Bank from 1992 to 2003 , is an active member on a number of Boards, including the New York Presbyterian Hospital, Refugees International, UN Watch, The Seton hall University School of Diplomacy, the New York City Parks Foundation, the New York City Opera, and the American Hospital of Paris, where the nursing services have been named in her honor A second later they heard the shots but did not see as the bullets struck in the head Pumpkin. A second more and the boy with the gun stormed out of the alley and, inexplicably, he ran directly toward them. Ran like a scared dog crouched, showing very clearly their fault condition. He wore red basketball shoes and yellow appeared to be five sizes too big and thumping the ground as the 3 started to run away. When the boy ran past her, still clutching law firm the gun, probably .38 caliber, and fell backward momentarily to see and understand that they had seen too much. For a terrifying second, he seemed to lift the weapon as if to eliminate the witnesses, who got away from the plastic packaging of milk and back away, walking on all fours in a mad jumble of arms and legs. Then, he vanished. One attorney witness opened the door to the liquor store and yelled for someone to call the police because a shooting had just occurred. Thirty minutes later, police received a call, according to which a young man whose description tallied with that of which he had charged with Pumpkin, had been seen twice on Ninth Street holding a gun in his hand in the light of all the world and behave even more rare than most passers circulating there. He had tried to attract at least one person to a vacant lot, but the alleged victim had escaped and reported the incident. Police found the man an lawyers hour later. His name was Tequila Watson, black male and twenty years old, with the usual police records related to the drug. Without family or known address. The last place where they had slept was a center for street rehabilitation W. He had managed to throw the gun somewhere and, if he had plucked a Pumpkin, too, had disposed of the money, drugs or whatever.

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