Or Give Me Death Donald E. Westlake “Give me liberty, or give me death!” was merely a quotation from a history book to Dr. Lambert until Patrick Henry walked into his office and complained of suffering from a chronic headache. “I’M a very busy man,” said the editor.
“I know,” said his visitor. “I won’t take long.”
“You can’t,” said the editor. “I have too much to do. Sit down.”
“Thank you,” said the visitor, sitting down.
“Now,” said the editor. “What is it?”
“First,” said the visitor. “I’d better tell you who I am. Doctor Philip Lambert. Medical doctor. And I’ve been to three psychiatrists. They all said I was sane, that I haven’t been having hallucinations.”
“Okay,” said the editor. “What haven’t you been imagining?” He looked at his watch.
Lambert leaned forward, “Patrick Henry is dead.”
The editor stared at him. Finally: “This your idea of a joke?”
Lambert shook his head. “No. He died in my house at eight-seven last night.”
The editor waved his hand between Lambert and himself, palm out. “Wait a minute,” he said. “The only Patrick Henry I know lived during the Revolution.”
Lambert nodded. “That’s the one.”
The editor stood up. “Three psychiatrists said you weren’t nuts?”
“That’s right.”
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