I don’t believe I’ve ever been as pleased to make a new acquaintance.”
We laughed. It hurt.
“So you okay, Lewis? Get you anything?”
“Out of here.”
“Not quite yet. But the doctors say everything goes all right, it’s just overnight.”
“Then what?”
“Whatever you want, good buddy.”
“I’m not under arrest?”
“Not hardly. Hell, Lewis, you’re a hero. Save one more cop’s life, they’ll make you citizen of the year.”
“But the gun—”
“Was fired twice by an officer of the law, with due and proper warning, at a suspect fleeing arrest.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Far as anyone knows, far as anyone’s going to know, that gun was mine. All you did was come to the assistance of a wounded police officer.”
I was silent.
“What?” he said.
“Just thinking. Thing like that gets out on the street, it’s all over for me.”
He watched my face for several moments. Clear green eyes flecked with gold.
“It’s a whole different world isn’t it, the one you live in?”
I nodded.
“Yeah.” He got up and limped to the window, stood there looking out. Light filled it now. “It’s hard to remember that sometimes, hard to understand.”
“I bet.”
He turned back. “Look. Nothing’s been fed to the press yet. You want, no one outside the department has to hear anything about this.”
“You can do that?”
“I can try.” He came back over to the bed and put his hand out again. “Thank you, Lewis. I mean that. I’m lucky you happened by.”
“I didn’t just happen by.”
He looked closely at me.
“That was the shooter, right?”
He nodded.
“I was looking for him.”
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Yeah, I figured. But no one else has to know about that, either.”
A nurse came in to take vital signs and see if I needed anything. She had pale skin, red hair. I thanked her as she left.
Walsh said: “You get out of here, Lewis, I’m taking you for the best steak dinner you ever had.”
“Take me along, you’re gonna find it cuts into your choice of places.”
“There is that.” He grinned. “Might just have to put cuffs on you and tell ’em you’re in custody.”
“You’re a desperate man.”
“Take care, Lewis.”
He started out.
“You never mentioned what you were doing there,” I said.
He turned back. “Same thing as you. The bus driver that got shot on Carondelet?”
I nodded.
“That was my brother.”
Chapter Eleven
W E SETTLED ON BREAKFAST. I still owe you that steak dinner then, Walsh told me. You don’t owe me one damn thing, I told him.
I was awake, out of bed and dressed when the nurse came in at six. It was still mostly dark outside, light nibbling at the sky’s borders in the window.
You’re supposed to be in bed, Mr. Griffin.
Do I need to sign anything on my way out?
Administration’s not open till eight.
That could be a problem.
I’d have to call the resident on duty, probably the administrator too.
Please.
I have a lot of things that need taking care of, Mr. Griffin, lots of other patients to see.
I’m sure you do.
She sighed.
I never saw the resident or administrator on call. But six brusque phone conversations later I pushed open the front doors of Touro to find Walsh waiting at the curb in his blue Corvair.
“Need a lift, sailor? Steak dinner perhaps?”
“Little early for dinner, you think?”
He shrugged. “Always dinnertime some where.”
In the car I asked him how he knew when I’d be leaving. He said he had me figured for the kind who’d try to slip through the crack of dawn. Patience not being a particular virtue of yours, he said. Or mine either for that matter, he added after a moment.
He cut over to St. Charles heading downtown.
“Breakfast be okay, for now?” he asked, and when I said sure, he hauled the little car into the neutral ground for a U-turn back up toward Napoleon. We pulled into the K&B there just as I was telling him he didn’t owe me a thing.
The
We laughed. It hurt.
“So you okay, Lewis? Get you anything?”
“Out of here.”
“Not quite yet. But the doctors say everything goes all right, it’s just overnight.”
“Then what?”
“Whatever you want, good buddy.”
“I’m not under arrest?”
“Not hardly. Hell, Lewis, you’re a hero. Save one more cop’s life, they’ll make you citizen of the year.”
“But the gun—”
“Was fired twice by an officer of the law, with due and proper warning, at a suspect fleeing arrest.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Far as anyone knows, far as anyone’s going to know, that gun was mine. All you did was come to the assistance of a wounded police officer.”
I was silent.
“What?” he said.
“Just thinking. Thing like that gets out on the street, it’s all over for me.”
He watched my face for several moments. Clear green eyes flecked with gold.
“It’s a whole different world isn’t it, the one you live in?”
I nodded.
“Yeah.” He got up and limped to the window, stood there looking out. Light filled it now. “It’s hard to remember that sometimes, hard to understand.”
“I bet.”
He turned back. “Look. Nothing’s been fed to the press yet. You want, no one outside the department has to hear anything about this.”
“You can do that?”
“I can try.” He came back over to the bed and put his hand out again. “Thank you, Lewis. I mean that. I’m lucky you happened by.”
“I didn’t just happen by.”
He looked closely at me.
“That was the shooter, right?”
He nodded.
“I was looking for him.”
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Yeah, I figured. But no one else has to know about that, either.”
A nurse came in to take vital signs and see if I needed anything. She had pale skin, red hair. I thanked her as she left.
Walsh said: “You get out of here, Lewis, I’m taking you for the best steak dinner you ever had.”
“Take me along, you’re gonna find it cuts into your choice of places.”
“There is that.” He grinned. “Might just have to put cuffs on you and tell ’em you’re in custody.”
“You’re a desperate man.”
“Take care, Lewis.”
He started out.
“You never mentioned what you were doing there,” I said.
He turned back. “Same thing as you. The bus driver that got shot on Carondelet?”
I nodded.
“That was my brother.”
Chapter Eleven
W E SETTLED ON BREAKFAST. I still owe you that steak dinner then, Walsh told me. You don’t owe me one damn thing, I told him.
I was awake, out of bed and dressed when the nurse came in at six. It was still mostly dark outside, light nibbling at the sky’s borders in the window.
You’re supposed to be in bed, Mr. Griffin.
Do I need to sign anything on my way out?
Administration’s not open till eight.
That could be a problem.
I’d have to call the resident on duty, probably the administrator too.
Please.
I have a lot of things that need taking care of, Mr. Griffin, lots of other patients to see.
I’m sure you do.
She sighed.
I never saw the resident or administrator on call. But six brusque phone conversations later I pushed open the front doors of Touro to find Walsh waiting at the curb in his blue Corvair.
“Need a lift, sailor? Steak dinner perhaps?”
“Little early for dinner, you think?”
He shrugged. “Always dinnertime some where.”
In the car I asked him how he knew when I’d be leaving. He said he had me figured for the kind who’d try to slip through the crack of dawn. Patience not being a particular virtue of yours, he said. Or mine either for that matter, he added after a moment.
He cut over to St. Charles heading downtown.
“Breakfast be okay, for now?” he asked, and when I said sure, he hauled the little car into the neutral ground for a U-turn back up toward Napoleon. We pulled into the K&B there just as I was telling him he didn’t owe me a thing.
The
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