“You got my money back?” Stone asked.
“Thirty-five thousand of it. Sam hadn’t spent it all yet.”
“That’s all there was. Thanks.”
“I’ll have it brought up,” Dino said. “Well, I’ve got to get back to solving crimes.”
“One other thing,” Stone said.
“What?”
“Ask the nurse to restrain Sam Spain. I don’t want him coming to while I’m dozing.”
“I’ll get my guy to cuff him to the bed,” Dino said.
“That ought to do it.”
Dino left the room, and in a minute a uniform came in and anchored Spain to his bed.
Stone felt like a nap.
? ? ?
HE WOKE UP later to a shuffling, clanging noise. Across the room, Sam Spain was on his feet, dragging his bed around by his cuffed hand. Stone rang for the nurse, and she came in and looked at Spain in horror. “What the hell?”
“Don’t touch him,” Stone said. “Get two cops in here right away.”
A moment later two uniforms entered the room, got Spain back into bed, and cuffed his other hand to the frame.
“That ought to hold him,” Stone said. “Call the commissioner and tell him Sam Spain is conscious.” They left.
“So, Sam,” Stone said, “how are you feeling?”
“What did they do to me?” Sam asked weakly.
“They didn’t, I did. I hit you with Sol’s cosh while you were trying to shoot me.”
“Sol? What Sol? I don’t know any Sol.”
“Sol Fineman, your guy, the one who’s delivering the picture?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam said. “I feel like shit.”
“I’m so happy to hear that.”
“Shut up.”
“You know, I’ve always said that if people would just take my advice, their lives would be so much richer and fuller and happier. Look at you, for instance. If you had taken my advice, you’d be a million dollars richer and on a free ride out of the deep, deep trouble you’re in.”
“I told you to shut up.”
“And you wouldn’t have to be listening to me saying I told you so.”
“I’m not listening,” Sam said. “Shut up.”
“No, I’m not going to shut up, I’m having too much fun.”
“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to come over there and strangle you,” Sam said.
“Don’t forget to bring your bed,” Stone said.
38
WHEN STONE NEXT woke up it was dark outside, and Morgan Tillman was sitting next to his bed.
“There you are,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“Surprisingly well,” Stone said, sitting his bed up a bit more. “In fact, I’m hungry.” He rang for the nurse.
“Ah,” she said, “you’re still alive.”
“I am,” Stone said, “and I’m hungry.”
“That’s good news. I’ll round you up something.” She left again.
“Who’s your roommate?” Morgan asked, nodding toward the lump across the room.
“That’s Sam Spain,” Stone said. “He’s here because I slugged him in the head, and I’m here because he slugged me in the head.”
“How’d you manage that?”
He explained it to her.
“And the picture is gone?”
“For the moment,” Stone said. “Dino is on it.”
“I called him when you didn’t call me, just as you asked me to.”
“It worked,” Stone replied. “Thank you.”
“When are you getting out of here?”
“I’m not sure. If I keep feeling this good, then soon.”
She placed a hand in his lap. “Exactly how well do you feel?”
“Not quite that well,” he replied. “Not yet, anyway. Try me tomorrow.”
The nurse returned with a hot dinner and set it on his tray table. He wolfed it down. “That was surprisingly good,” he said.
“I’m glad.” She got up and kissed him on the forehead. “I should go and let you get some rest.”
“How’s Margaretta doing?”
“Not well. I spent the day with her and got some food into the house. I made funeral arrangements for Manolo, too. He was such a sweet boy a couple of years ago.”
“That was good of you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. If they set you free, I’ll drive you home.”
“Thank you.”
The nurse came back and took his tray.
“Do you know where my cell phone is?” he asked.
“Where was it?”
“I’m not sure.”
She went to a closet and came back with the phone. “In your jacket pocket.”
“Thanks.” He switched on the phone. “I don’t suppose you have an iPhone charger?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She came back with one in a couple of minutes.
“I don’t hear my heart beeping anymore,” Stone said.
“You complained about it, so I disconnected you. Your roommate was complaining, too.”
“When am I getting out of here?”
“The doctor will visit you shortly.”
As if on cue, an impossibly young physician walked into the room. He did a cursory examination of Stone and said, “One more night, for insurance. You’ll be discharged in the morning if you don’t die overnight.”
“That’s encouraging,” Stone said, and the young man walked over to Sam Spain and put a stethoscope to his chest.
Stone plugged in his cell phone and checked his messages; nothing that couldn’t wait.
“Did you know your roommate?” the doctor asked.
“Vaguely,” Stone said. “Why was your question in the past tense?”
“Because Mr. Spain is dead, probably has been for an hour or so.”
“Shit,” Stone said.
“My condolences,” the doctor said, drawing a sheet over Sam Spain’s head.
Shortly, a policeman came into the room with two orderlies and uncuffed the Spain corpse, then the orderlies transferred the body to a gurney and wheeled it out.
“Shit,” Stone said again. Now how were they going to figure out whom Sol Fineman was delivering to? Then he had a thought. He got out of bed, went to the closet, and found Sam’s clothes and searched them. His iPhone was in a jacket pocket. Stone got back in bed and switched it on. “Oh, God,” he said.
He rang for the nurse again. “You know the corpse that just departed?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I missed that.”
“Where is it?”
“In our morgue,” she replied, “waiting for the autopsy.”
“Listen, there’s something I need from the corpse.”
“I don’t think it has anything left to give.”
“Yes, it does. I need its right thumb.”
“What?”
“In fact, maybe it should be a whole hand.”
“I’m sorry, we don’t hand out body parts here.”
“I understand. How about if you wheel it back up here so I can use its thumb to get into Sam’s iPhone?”
“We operate procedurally around here,” she said. “We don’t have a procedure for taking a corpse out of the morgue and putting it back in a room. It works the other way around.”
“Okay, okay. Tell you what, don’t let them take it to the city morgue until I’ve had a chance to get the police back here. They’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, then left.
Stone called Dino.
“You’re still alive?”
“I’m much better, thank you. Sam Spain died a little while ago.”
“Well, shit, I wanted to question him again about the destination of the picture.”
“Yeah, I know, but I’ve got Sam’s iPhone. If we can get into it, we can see a list of who he called recently.”
“That’s good news.”
“Not yet it isn’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’re going to need a fingerprint to unlock the phone.”
Dino thought about that for a minute. “Was Sam right-handed or left-handed?”
“He tried to shoot me with his right hand.”
“So we’ll need what, his right thumb?”
“Maybe the index finger, too. The body’s in the morgue, awaiting autopsy.”
“Do we know who the pathologist is?”
“Whoever’s on duty, I guess. I asked the nurse to see that the corpse isn’t taken to the city morgue.”
“I’ll be right over,” Dino said.
39
THE FOLLOWING MORNING Stone was sitting up in bed, waiting for the doctor to come and discharge him. Dino got there first.
“I’ve been down in the morgue, arguing with the pathologist who’s about to do the autopsy on Sam,” Dino said, sinking into a chair.
“Arguing?”