Beth bounced down the stairs in her blue terry robe. She plopped down on the sofa and put her arm around him, then frowned. "Something wrong?"
"Veronica," Jerry said.
Beth kept her arm in place but pulled her hand from his shoulder. "I thought that was over a long time ago."
Jerry sat up straight and took her hand. "It is. That's not it at all. She's in the hospital in a coma or something. I think she's in real danger. It's not like we're close or anything, but I feel like I owe her."
"Jesus," Beth said. "Is there anything you can do?"
"I'm rich-there ought to be something." He chewed on his lip. "You used to be a nurse way back when, right?"
"Yes. Got tired of dealing with doctors and hospital administrators. I've done some volunteer work in Chicago, though."
"Okay." Jerry tapped his fingertips together. "I'll need you to set up my old projection room with all the equipment we'll need to handle a coma patient. All I need to do then is figure out how to get her here."
"You'll have to take me along, you know" Beth turned his face toward hers. "That's my price for doing the rest. You have to let me be there with you."
"Thanks," Jerry said. "I would have asked you to anyway. I need to have someone I can trust around me when I'm scared. If I'm in trouble, I want you there. Mr. Selfish strikes again."
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I'd do more, but we're going to need our strength for other things."
"Right," he said, standing. "I'm going to get cleaned up, then go down to the hospital to do a little snooping. If you could take care of buying the equipment, I'll help you set it up later on."
"Okay. I hope I can get everything we'll need," Beth said. "You're rich and gorgeous." Jerry helped her up from the sofa.
"With that combination, anything is possible."
It was three A. M. Wednesday, probably as quiet as the hospital ever got. Jerry strode down the corridor with what he hoped was a weary authority.
Beth was handling the gurney. The nurse's uniform flattered her figure more than he'd expected. "You really look great. Next time I'm sick, I want you to wear that."
"So much for the silk teddies and leather outfits I was going to buy." Beth's voice was nervous and edgy.
Jerry clutched at his doctor's clipboard and leaned close to her. "This will be easy, trust me. I do this kind of stuff all the time. You're in the care of a professional." He thumbed the orange badge on his smock that said Dr. Evan Sealy.
Beth gave him a hard glance. "Yes, but you can change your face, which, by the way, looks like too many doctors I've known. I'm stuck with what I'm wearing."
Jerry didn't have anything clever to say to that. He counted down the room numbers until they were outside Veronica's door. He took a deep breath, pulled his glasses down onto the bridge of his bulbous nose, and went in without knocking. Beth followed him, leaving the gurney in the hallway.
The guard was sitting in the chair, engrossed in a wellthumbed copy of Soldier of Fortune. He was middle-aged and rounding all over. There were two empty styrofoam cups on the cheap bedside table.
"Morning, Dr. Sealy." The cop nodded once and stared back down at his magazine.' "Morning." Jerry sighed and walked over to Veronica's bed on the side where the guard was seated. She looked terrible. Her skin was broken out, her features sunken, and her breathing shallow. A yellow-and-purple bruise covered one side of her head. Something inside Jerry hurt to look at her. He edged closer to the guard and pretended to take her pulse. Beth moved closer to them. Jerry put Veronica's hand down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cotton rag, then jumped on the guard's lap and shoved the rag into his mouth.
The cop bit down hard on Jerry's fingertips. Jerry clenched his teeth to avoid screaming. Beth was backing away with an empty hypodermic in her hand. He hadn't even seen her stick him. "How long?" he asked, trying to tug his hand free. Beth capped the needle and put the hypo in her pocket, then stepped in for a better look. "He's out already."
Jerry flattened his fingertips and pulled his hand free. "Fucking flatfoot cannibal," he said, rubbing his fingertips. Beth rolled the gurney next to the bed and quickly unhooked everything but Veronica's I. V and gently slid her hands under the comatose woman's armpits. "Get her feet and lift her over."
Jerry grabbed Veronica's ankles and carefully hoisted her over.
Beth folded up the metal arm and hooked the I. V bag to it. "Let's go, Doctor."
Jerry opened the door and stepped into the brightly lit hallway. He motioned to Beth, who wheeled the gurney out next to him. They headed slowly toward the elevator. Jerry marked something unreadable on his clipboard and hoped he looked the part. The elevator was empty, and they both sighed as the doors closed.
"So far, so good," Jerry said. His back and armpits were soaked in sweat.
"Mm," Beth said. It was more a growl than anything else. The car stopped in several jerky motions, and they moved out into the basement. Jerry could hear someone in Emergency moaning. There were several patients sitting in the hall. One, a bloody hand held to the side of his head, was talking to a police officer. Jerry didn't breathe as they moved past. The cop didn't bother to look up.
"Dr. Scaly?" The female voice came from behind him. Jerry's shoulders tightened. He turned around slowly. A nurse with sharp eyes and features was looking at him hard. "Yes," he said.
"Is that patient being transferred out?" The nurse looked at Veronica.
"Yes. Why else would she be down here?" Jerry hoped his sarcasm would back her off.
The nurse made a face. "Then I assume you have some paperwork for me?"
Jerry nodded stiffly. "Of course. Once she's situated in the ambulance, I'll be back to take care of you."
"If you don't," the nurse said, "I know where to find you."
"I hope not," he whispered, turning away. He looked over at Beth. Her skin was a couple of shades paler than usual. They quickly rolled Veronica out to the nearest ambulance and opened up the rear.
"Everything you'll need?" he asked, looking inside. Beth nodded. They lifted Veronica in, and Beth climbed up after her. Jerry closed the doors and walked around the far side, pulling off his smock. He had his EMS outfit on underneath.
He made his face rounder and changed his hair from gray to brown. Jerry got into the driver's side and tossed the smock onto the floorboard. He softened his fingertip and slid it into the ignition slot. When he felt it fit, he hardened his finger and turned. The engine caught immediately, an echoing roar in the concrete underground. A few blocks away he could stop and hot-wire the ignition, until then he'd have to make do with one hand.
"Shit," Beth said from behind him. "What?"
"Her heart's stopped." Beth took a deep breath and prepared an injection. "I'll try some adrenaline. Get us the hell out of here. I don't want to get caught now. Move it."
Jerry put the ambulance into gear and drove slowly through the Emergency parking area to the street.
"Is she going to be all right?" he asked.
"I can't tell yet." Beth's voice was shaky. Her face was covered in sweat. "I've got a pulse, but it's erratic. Could go either way."
Jerry drove one-handed for as long as he could stand it. There was no way he could make it through three boroughs to reach the family home in Staten Island that way. He stopped, softened his fingertip, and tugged it, bleeding and swollen, from the ignition. He pulled a knife and electrical tape from one pocket and bent under the dash. "We'll be moving again in a minute," he said.
Beth sighed. "I can't believe I volunteered for this. If we get caught, I'm going to strangle you with my bare hands." Jerry brought the wires together with a tiny blue spark. The engine kicked to life. "I love you, too."
After taking Beth and Veronica home, Jerry drove the ambulance into Queens and abandoned it. He caught a cab back from there. It gave him a twinge of glee that Veronica had wound up in his projection room. She'd never have come there when they were dating. You were paying her to fuc
k you, he thought. It wasn't a date.
Beth was looking Veronica over when he walked in. "This isn't good, bro. They didn't use a gel-foam cushion under her while she was there."
It bothered him a little that she called him "bro," although he wasn't sure why. Jerry knew what a gel-foam cushion was only because it was a squishy bed covering he'd figured might have real erotic possibilities. "What's the problem?"
"She's got some ugly lesions on her bottom, and a couple are starting on her shoulders, too. They weren't looking after her well at all." Beth squeezed some antiseptic cream on a gloved hand and applied it carefully to Veronica's flesh. "'Lesions'?"
"Bedsores." Beth pulled off her gloves and tossed them into a trash can. "If she doesn't come around soon, we're going to have major complications."
Jerry snorted. "Over bedsores?"
"That's right. If they get bad enough, you have to do skin grafts to prevent life-threatening infections. That requires a plastic surgeon and anesthesiologist at the very least, assuming I can grow a few more limbs to take care of everything else." She walked past him and patted him on the shoulder. "Trust me."
"Shit," Jerry said, turning and following her out of the room. "How do you get somebody out of a coma?"
"You don't, really," Beth said, putting her arms around him. "I guess we'd better get some rest."
"Rest?"
"I'm afraid so," she said. "We'll need our energy to devote to Veronica." She kissed the end of his nose. "This is another reason I stopped being a nurse."
"You're so good," he said. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."
Beth laughed. "For his next trick, Jerry will put all of his self-esteem into a thimble."
Jerry slapped her ass. "Enough. Let's get some sleep."
"Veronica, I love you. You have to come back for me." Jerry stroked her hand, carefully avoiding the area where her I. V was attached. Saying he loved her was a lie, but he wasn't going to crucify himself for it at this point. "Hannah needs you. We all do." Veronica's chest rose and fell slowly. Her eyelids might as well have been carved in stone.
Beth walked into the room with two plates of food. "Fettuccine for two." She set the plates on the coffee table in front of the couch. "So much for the question `But can she cook?' Good men have plotzed for my Italian food since the dawn of time."
Jerry stood and stretched. He was glad Beth hadn't heard him telling Veronica he loved her. It would be too much trouble to explain right now. He walked on stiff legs over to the couch and sat down in front of the plate with the largest helping. It was weird having so much normal furniture in the room with a coma patient. "What time is it?"
"A little after seven." Beth took Jerry's seat next to Veronica and began bathing her with a fresh washcloth. Jerry fumbled for the TV remote control and punched the set to life. "Hot damn. I don't think I've missed much of it. Chrissie is probably dead, though."
"What are you talking about?"
"Jaws." Jerry rubbed his hands together. On the screen, Brody was looking down at the girl's crab-infested remains. Beth wiped Veronica's forehead. Her touch was light but firm. Like she'd been with him in bed a few nights before. "I thought jaws scared you to death."
"Several times." Jerry paused and glazed-over his eyes. "Very first light, chief, sharks come cruising."
"Enough," Beth said. "It's obviously going to be a long night."
Jerry nodded. "For all the wrong reasons."
He turned back to the TV It was a commercial break, and a fast-talking salesman had a penlike device at the end of an egg. "Wow. Look at that. You can scramble an egg without even breaking it open."
Beth laughed. "I forget how much you missed in your twenty years as a giant ape. You're Ronco's dream customer."
"It's nice to be somebody's dream something." Jerry bit his lip. He'd been trying to cut down on self-pity, but he had a genuine talent for it.
"God, I'm sick of hearing that kind of shit. If we're going to have a chance, that kind of talk has to start disappearing." She turned away from him. "Even now, you can't believe that I love you."
Jerry rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm afraid to. I'm crazy about you, always have been. You make me deliriously happy. I'm not a bad guy, but I just can't imagine you'd ever settle for someone like me. I feel so… insubstantial or inadequate or something."
"I'm old enough and smart enough to know who I want," she said, "and I want you. Maybe you should consider counseling to get over your self-esteem problems."
"Maybe. Couldn't hurt, and at least I can afford it." Jerry took a bit of fettuccine. It was hot and delicious, but he didn't feel like chewing.
"Jerry" Beth sounded upset.
He looked over quickly. Veronica had reached up and taken Beth by the arm. The bedridden woman pulled Beth's face to hers. Beth twisted away and tucked Veronica's arms down beside her. Jerry jumped up off the couch and over to the bed. Veronica's eyes blinked slowly, then opened. "Veronica. It's Jerry" He brushed a damp strand of hair away from her eyes.
Veronica swallowed and looked slowly around the room. She stared long and hard at Beth. "I hope you're not married to this guy."
Beth squeezed Veronica's hand and brought a cup of water up to her dry lips. "Once you sweep them off their feet, they stay swept, bro."
"I feel terrible," Veronica said. Jerry smiled. "I feel better."
"Latham's girls were supposed to kill me," Veronica said. She glanced over at Jerry. "I guess you rode to my rescue." Jerry shrugged. "I couldn't just let them kill you. You'd have done the same for me."
Veronica closed her eyes. "Sure I would. How long have I been out?"
"Latham?" Beth grabbed Veronica's arm. "Edward St. John Latham? He did this to you?"
"Actually, it was Zelda who did the damage," Veronica said. "He just ordered it, as usual."
Beth looked up at Jerry. "And you knew?"
Jerry nodded. "I had a reason for not telling you."
"Kenneth. It was Latham, wasn't it." She put her hand over her mouth.
Jerry held her by the shoulders. "Yes. I knew he was behind it, but I couldn't prove anything."
Beth stood, shaking her head. "You should have told me. You know you should have." She walked stiffly from the room. Jerry headed after her.
"What about me?" Veronica tried to sit up, fell back on the bed.
"You're not going anywhere right now," Jerry said. "We'll talk later."
Jerry caught up with Beth on the stairs. He grabbed her by the elbow. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to get hurt." She wheeled on him, her eyes full of tears. "You think this doesn't hurt. My husband was killed, and you didn't think I had the right to know all the truth."
Jerry's shoulders slumped. His eyes were beginning to sting. "If I screwed up, I'm sorry. We both know I have a track record of doing that. But you have no idea how crazy Latham is. All the things he's into. And he's getting worse." "What about the police?" Beth dabbed at her eyes. "There are some good cops, but you can't know who they are. If somebody can be bought off or intimidated, St. John would probably go that way. If not, he'll just have them killed. Like Kenneth." Jerry looked down. "I swore I'd get Latham for what he did. I watched him for months, got to know his mind, his habits." Jerry made a fist. "I had him in the sights of my rifle once, and I just couldn't do it. Who knows how many other people would still be alive if I could have squeezed the trigger."
Beth took his hand. "You're not a killer, Jerry"
He looked up, right into her eyes. "Yes, I am. We all are. It just takes more extreme circumstances to bring that out in some of us. I have to kill him."
Beth shook her head. "For a promise to someone who'll never know you kept it?"
"No. Because he'll get me first. Why do you think I have all this security? He's bound to come after me sooner or later."
"Come to Chicago with me," Beth said. "We can start something for us there. If you go against Latham, he'll kill you. I can't believe I didn't figure this before now, anyway. Who
else would want Kenneth dead?"
"It's only obvious in retrospect." Jerry dabbed the tears from her eyes. "No matter where I go, he'll find me. If there's one thing St. John is, it's thorough."
"Don't make me beg you, Jerry. If you try this, you'll only get killed."
"I don't think so." He tried to sound cocky. "I've got Veronica to help me now. If I can convince her to help. With Latham's killers breathing down her neck, that shouldn't be too hard."
Beth opened her mouth in disbelief. "She can hardly move, Jerry. There's no way she's up to any kind of fight."
"She's an ace. Aces heal fast," he said. "Trust me."
Latham made most of his personal calls late at night. Jerry was sitting in a building across from St. John's apartment, waiting for some action on the line. A regular phone bug would have been found in a hurry, so Jerry didn't even bother. But Latham had a cordless phone that operated on a specific frequency. It had taken some doing, but he'd found out what it was and how to intercept it. Most of what Jerry had learned came from the late-night listening.
He stifled a yawn. He still wasn't clear how to get Latham, but he knew he wanted Veronica to do the actual killing. That shouldn't be a problem, since Latham had ordered Hannah killed and almost put Veronica away too. The specifics were just not there, though. Probably he was. distracted about Beth. When he wasn't thinking about her, he was congratulating himself for not thinking about her, and then there he went again. Being that happy, even for one day, was a scary thing. All of a sudden, he had a lot to lose.
There was a dial tone. Jerry flipped on the recorder and listened to the numbers being punched in.
Several rings later, a young female answered the phone. "I was wondering when you'd call." The voice belonged to Zelda.
"Yes," Latham said. "I want you to make some arrangements for Friday night. I'll need a companion."
Zelda sighed. "Again? I don't know what you need that for, with me around."
"It wasn't a request, Zelda." Latham was cold, but his voice lacked the total control Jerry was used to hearing. "After letting that woman slip away, you should be eager for a chance to do something right."