The Sisterhood - Michael Palmer [103]
David lay stretched out on the large oak guest bed, savoring the smell and texture of fresh linen and wondering if he would ever feel warm again. He was weak, lightheaded, and aching in a half-dozen different places. Still, he could sense his concentration improving as the mental fog brought on by his hypothermia began to lift. He silently thanked Joey for reasoning him out of an immediate search for Christine in favor of a hot shower.
Terry Rosetti, a full-breasted, vibrant beauty, expertly wrapped his arm in gauze. “Fettuccini and first aid,” David said. “You are truly the complete woman.”
Terry’s smile lit up the room. “Tell that to your friend out there. I think he’s starting to take me for granted. Do you know he was actually able to stop in the middle of making love to me to answer the phone when you called?”
“No wonder it seemed to be ringing forever,” he said. “I almost hung up.”
“It’s a lucky thing you didn’t,” Terry said. “David, Joey didn’t kill that man, did he?”
The fear in her eyes left no doubt of the importance his answer held for her. “I wanted him to pull the trigger back there, Terry. I really did. That animal killed my friend. But Joey said he’d promised you and backed off.”
Terry Rosetti swallowed at the lump in her throat.
At that moment, Joey marched into the room, carrying a load of clothes, a pair of crutches, and the Boston phone book. “I think this must be the woman,” he said. “C. Beall, 391 Belknap, Brookline. I checked the other books and this is the only name that fits. By the way, the clothes and shit are courtesy of the North End Businessman’s Association.”
“What’s that?” asked David.
“Oh, just some simple business types like me who like to help poor, unfortunate folks that get chased into the river by a gorilla.” Joey smiled conspiratorially at Terry and winked. He failed to notice her lack of reaction. “You feel up to traveling, Doc?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure. What time is it anyway?”
“Twelve thirty. It’s a new day.”
“Three hours.” David shook his head in amazement. “It’s only been three hours …”
“What?”
“Nothing, hand me the phone, please. I only hope she’s all right.”
Joey squinted down at him. “You positive you’re all right?” he asked.
“Sure, why?”
“Well, you’re the one with the education an’ the degrees an’ shit. All I got goin’ for me is my street smarts. Just the same, I can think of at least six or seven good reasons why we would want to tell this C. Beall what we have to tell her face to face, not over the phone. Remember, you’ve already been arrested for murder. Right now that woman’s your only hope of gettin’ off.”
David understood instantly. If Christine had nothing to do with Ben’s death, the news could panic her into a hasty, possibly fatal move. If she was somehow involved or had knowledge of who might have hired Leonard Vincent … He wouldn’t allow himself to complete the thought. “When this is all over,” he said, “I’m going to write my medical school and tell them to bring you in as a guest lecturer. You could teach medical students about making it in the real world. Let’s go find her.”
Ten minutes later, they were back in Rudy Fisher’s car headed toward Brookline. “Don’t push it too hard, Rudy,” Rosetti ordered. “We don’t want to get stopped. If Vincent already got paper for the woman, all the fancy driving in the world isn’t gonna help.” David grimaced and looked out the window.
After a mile of silence, Joey said, “Doc, there’s somethin’ I want to tell you. Call it a lesson if you want, since you’re gonna make me a teacher.”
David turned toward his friend, expecting to see the wry glint that usually accompanied one of his stories. Joey’s eyes were narrowed, dark, and deadly serious. “Go on,” David said.
“Leonard Vincent may not be the slickest operator in the world, but he is a pro. And as long as he or someone like him’s in the picture, you