Praying for Sleep
“But he wasn't dead."She'd taken Robert's hand and leaned close, urging him to keep breathing. She'd get help, she said. But then she heard footsteps. Ten feet away Hrubek stood staring at them. He was smiling cynically, muttering."He was talking," Lis told Kohler, "about conspirators."Stumbling backwards Lis landed on her purse. Inside, she felt a knife. She'd packed it for the picnic, she explained, wrapping it in a paper towel and placing it in her bag so no one would reach blindly into the p...icnic basket and cut themselves. She pulled it out now and ripped her towel away from the blade — it was very sharp, a Chicago Cutlery, nine inches long. She pointed it at Hrubek and toll him to keep back. But he just kept walking at her, saying "Sic semper tyrannis!" again and again. Her nerve broke. She dropped the knife and ran."That was the knife that he used?" Kohler asked, "I remember reading that the victim was stabbed as well beaten. Sexually mutilated too."After a moment Lis answered, "Robert was badly hurt but he probably could've survived.MoreLess
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