Hit List

30

Stone walked into the hospital through the ER door, where he knew one or two people. He snagged a nurse. “Beth, there’s a Jane Doe who just got out of surgery. You got a room number?”

“Four oh seven,” Beth replied, “but she’ll be in the ICU right now. If you’re looking to get laid, Stone, she’s helpless.”

“Gee, thanks.” He made his way upstairs and waved his badge at the cop in a chair in the hallway. “Anybody in there with her?” he asked.

“Nope,” the cop replied. “They wheeled her into the ICU maybe twenty minutes ago. There’s just the nurse on duty.”

Stone knew that nurse, too, from when he had been a patient.

“Well, look who’s here,” she said, smiling.

“Hey, Carol.”

“I’ll bet you’re looking for our Jane Doe, aren’t you?”

“You betcha. Is she awake yet?”

“She’s stirring; I’ll turn up her oxygen a bit.” She did so.

Stone pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down. The woman’s eyelids fluttered. She looked to be in her late thirties, probably good-looking when fixed up. He hadn’t looked at her face when he had shot her. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Mrs. Larkin, I presume. Good afternoon,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed.

“I’m told Sig is on his way.”

She tried to say something and failed.

He leaned in close. His ears were still ringing from the gunshot. “Yes?”

“Go fuck yourself,” she managed to say, then smiled a little.

“Sorry about the bullet in your chest,” he said, “but you were trying to put one in mine.”

She licked her lips and tried to speak, but failed.

Stone took a glass of water from the side table and fed her the glass straw.

“That’s better,” she said. “Go fuck yourself.”

“I guess you’re not accustomed to your victims walking and talking,” Stone said.

She smiled again. “Maybe next time.”

“Well,” he said, “there’s not going to be a next time. I expect you’re going to do serious time.”

“Where’s my dog?” she asked softly.

“Oh, he’s up at the pound. I expect he’ll be adopted before the day’s out, he’s so cute.”

Something like anger wrinkled her face. “He’s not for adoption,” she said.

“I’m afraid there’s no way to establish your ownership,” Stone said, “since you won’t give a name and an address. That’s the minimum required. What’s your first name?”

“Frances,” she said, to Stone’s surprise. “Last name and address? I’ll phone the pound.”

“Frances Larkin, at...”

“Edison Hotel.”

“I’m afraid that won’t do. They’ll need an apartment or a house. Oh, and a phone number, too.”

“Where’s my bag?”

Stone looked around.

“I’ll get it for you,” Carol said, then left the room. She brought it back a minute later.

Stone looked inside. “I don’t see a phone.”

“Side pocket,” she said.

Stone found a zippered pocket inside, opened it, and extracted an iPhone. “You want to call Sig?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“I can’t look at the contents of your phone without waiting for the police to get a search warrant,” Stone said, “unless you want to give me permission.”

She shook her head again. “Give it to me.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Stone said. “You might call a cab and skate on me.”

She smiled and shrugged.

“Hope you’re not in any pain,” Stone said. “The anesthesia will wear off soon. When that happens, let me know, and I’ll ask the nurse to get you something.”

She nodded.

“What’s the dog’s name?”

“Trixie.”

“Good, the pound will want that. At least he won’t have to go through the stress of a name change.”

“She,” Frances said.

“Sorry, I didn’t have time for that inspection. Can I get you anything? A newspaper? A silenced .22?”

“Yes, please.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s gone to the police lab, and somehow, I don’t think you’ll get it back. I hope it isn’t your favorite piece.”

She shrugged.

“Is there anything at all you’d like to talk about?” Stone asked. “I mean, after me there’s only your lawyer, and we know how boring lawyers are.”

“You’re a lawyer,” she whispered.

“Yes, but I’m a sweet guy. This is really your last chance to ask for something and, maybe, get it.”

“A razor blade,” she said.

“Ah, no — then you’d be a danger to yourself or others, as the judges like to put it.”

“Just to me.”

“I suppose things must look pretty dark, if you’re thinking that way. Listen, in my capacity as a lawyer, though not your lawyer, let me give you some free advice. You didn’t actually shoot me, so if you’re willing to have a real chat, there’s a good chance you could walk. In fact, as the intended victim, I can guarantee it. I’ll stand up for you in court. After all, you’d be preventing half a dozen more murders. A judge will be impressed.”

She said nothing but looked thoughtful.

“Think about it,” he said. “What did Sig ever do for you but hang you out to dry? You’re not going to hear from him again, you know. You might see him, briefly, before you talk, when he comes to cut your throat. I’m surprised he hasn’t already tried.”

Stone was conscious of somebody silently entering the room. He cut a glance and saw Dino leaning on the door.

“Tell you what,” Stone said. “Give me everything, and I’ll continue to offer you free legal advice, informally. I’ll get you out and send you on your way with your two grand — and I’ll add another five to that.”

She looked at him steadily.

“And I’ll get Trixie back for you, even if I have to rip her from the arms of some darling child.”

This time, she managed a laugh. “I love you,” she said, “but go fuck yourself.”

Stone laughed, too, and let himself out of the room. He beckoned Carol. “You need to put her on suicide watch. She’ll try to off herself if she can figure a way.”

“We watch ’em all,” Carol said.

“If you’ll pay close attention to her, and talk me up, I’ll buy you a steak dinner.”

“Sure, you will.” She snorted.

Stone handed her the bag from La Goulue. “Here’s your steak dinner,” he said, “in advance.”