"Nancy Kress - The Mountain to Mohammed" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kress Nancy)

as will more fully appear from the declaration to be
filed in said Court when and if said action is entered
therein:


WE COMMAND YOU, if you intend to make any defense of said
action, that on said date or within such further time as
the law allows you cause your written appearance to be
entered and your written answer or other lawful pleadings
to be filed in the office of the Clerk of the Court to
which said writ is returnable, and that you defend
against said action according to law.


Hereof fail not at your peril, as otherwise said judgment
may be entered against you in said action without further
notice.


Witness, Lawrence F. Monastersky, Esquire , at
Boston, the fourth day of March in the year of our
Lord two thousand four.


Alice P. McCarren
Clerk


Jesse looked up from the paper. The deputy sheriff, a soft-bodied man with
small, light eyes, looked steadily back.
"But what...what happened?"
The deputy looked out over Jesse's left shoulder, a gesture meaning he wasn't
officially saying what he was saying. "The kid died. The one they say you treated."
"Died? Of what? But I went back..." He stopped, filled with sudden sickening
uncertainty about how much he was admitting.
The deputy went on staring over his shoulder. "You want my advice, doc? Get
yourself a lawyer."
Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief, Jesse thought suddenly, inanely. The inanity
somehow brought it all home. He was being sued. For malpractice. By an
uninsurable. Now. Here. Him, Jesse Randall. Who had been trying only to help.
"Cold for this time of year," the deputy remarked. "They're dying of cold and
malnutrition down there, in Roxbury and Dorchester and Southie. Even the
goddamn weather can't give us a break."
Jesse couldn't answer. A wind off the harbor fluttered the paper in his hand.


###


"These are the facts," the lawyer said. He looked tired, a small man in a dusty