Blindsight by Robin Cook Page B
Authors: Robin Cook
Tags: Fiction, General, thriller, Suspense, Medical, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Espionage, Psychology, Mystery Fiction, Large Type Books, Fiction - Espionage, Psychopathology, Addiction, drug abuse, Medical novels, Onbekend
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small glass bottle and an eye dropper from Doc Travino's bag. He handed both to Angelo. Angelo unscrewed the cap and gingerly sniffed the contents. When he got a whiff, he pulled his head back quickly. "Geez, powerful stuff." He blinked a few times and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes.
"Any chance you want to change your story?" Angelo asked calmly after walking over to Frankie. "I'm telling you the truth," Frankie persisted. Angelo looked at Tony. "Hold his head back." Tony grabbed a handful of the boy's hair just above the forehead and yanked Frankie's head back. "Tell me, Frankie," Angelo said as he bent over the boy's upturned face. "Have you ever heard the expression "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth'?" Only then did Frankie realize what was happening. But despite his attempts at clamping his eyes shut, Angelo managed to empty the eye dropper into Frankie's lower right lid. A slight spattering noise like water hitting a hot skillet preceded an ear-piercing shriek as the sulfuric acid ate into his delicate eye tissues. Angelo glanced at Tony and noticed that Tony's smile had swelled to a grin. Angelo wondered what the world was coming to with this new generation. This kid Tony was having a ball. For Angelo, this was not entertainment, it was business. Nothing more, nothing less. Angelo set the sulfuric acid bottle on the desk and took a couple more puffs on his cigarette. When Frankie's screams had abated to choking sobs, Angelo leaned toward him and calmly asked if Frankie wanted to change his story.
"Talk to me!" Angelo commanded when it seemed that Frankie was ignoring him. "I'm telling the truth," Frankie managed. "Chrissake!" Angelo muttered as he went back for the acid. Over his shoulder, he called to Tony, "Hold his head back again."
"Wait!" Frankie croaked. "Don't hurt me anymore. I'll tell you what you want to know."
Angelo put the acid back on the desk and returned to Frankie. He looked at the tears streaming out of
the kid's shut eyes, especially the one where he'd put the acid. "OK, Frankie," Angelo began. "Who was involved?"
"You have to get me something for my eye," Frankie whined. "It's killing me." "We'll take care of it as soon as you tell us what we want to know," Angelo said. "Come on, Frankie. I'm losing my patience."
"Bruno Marchese and Jimmy Lanso," Frankie muttered. Angelo looked at Tony.
Tony nodded. "I've heard of Bruno," he said. "He's a local kid." "Where can we find these guys if we want to talk to them?" Angelo asked. "Thirty-eight twenty-two Fifty-fifth Street, apartment one," Frankie said. "Just off Northern Boulevard." Angelo took out a piece of paper and wrote the address down. "Whose idea was it?" he asked. "It was Manso's," Frankie sobbed. "I was telling the truth about that. It was his idea that if we did it, we'd all become Lucia soldiers, part of the inner circle. But I didn't want to do it. They made me go along."
"Why couldn't you have told us this in the car, Frankie?" Angelo asked. "You would have saved us a lot of trouble and yourself some grief."
"I was afraid the others would kill me if they found out I'd talked," Frankie said. "So you were more worried about your friends than us?" Angelo questioned as he stepped behind Frankie. It was enough to hurt Angelo's feelings. "That's curious. But no matter. Now you don't have to worry about your friends because we'll take care of you." "You got to get me something for my eye," Frankie said. "Sure," Angelo said. In a smooth motion and without a second's hesitation, Angelo pulled out his Walther TPH Auto pistol and shot Frankie in the back of the head just above the neck. Frankie's head snapped forward, then slumped down on his chest. The suddenness of the final act surprised Tony, who winced and stepped back, anticipating a gory mess. But there wasn't any. "Why didn't you let me do that?" he whined. "Shut up and untie him," Angelo said. "We're not here for your entertainment. We're working, remember?"
Once
"Any chance you want to change your story?" Angelo asked calmly after walking over to Frankie. "I'm telling you the truth," Frankie persisted. Angelo looked at Tony. "Hold his head back." Tony grabbed a handful of the boy's hair just above the forehead and yanked Frankie's head back. "Tell me, Frankie," Angelo said as he bent over the boy's upturned face. "Have you ever heard the expression "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth'?" Only then did Frankie realize what was happening. But despite his attempts at clamping his eyes shut, Angelo managed to empty the eye dropper into Frankie's lower right lid. A slight spattering noise like water hitting a hot skillet preceded an ear-piercing shriek as the sulfuric acid ate into his delicate eye tissues. Angelo glanced at Tony and noticed that Tony's smile had swelled to a grin. Angelo wondered what the world was coming to with this new generation. This kid Tony was having a ball. For Angelo, this was not entertainment, it was business. Nothing more, nothing less. Angelo set the sulfuric acid bottle on the desk and took a couple more puffs on his cigarette. When Frankie's screams had abated to choking sobs, Angelo leaned toward him and calmly asked if Frankie wanted to change his story.
"Talk to me!" Angelo commanded when it seemed that Frankie was ignoring him. "I'm telling the truth," Frankie managed. "Chrissake!" Angelo muttered as he went back for the acid. Over his shoulder, he called to Tony, "Hold his head back again."
"Wait!" Frankie croaked. "Don't hurt me anymore. I'll tell you what you want to know."
Angelo put the acid back on the desk and returned to Frankie. He looked at the tears streaming out of
the kid's shut eyes, especially the one where he'd put the acid. "OK, Frankie," Angelo began. "Who was involved?"
"You have to get me something for my eye," Frankie whined. "It's killing me." "We'll take care of it as soon as you tell us what we want to know," Angelo said. "Come on, Frankie. I'm losing my patience."
"Bruno Marchese and Jimmy Lanso," Frankie muttered. Angelo looked at Tony.
Tony nodded. "I've heard of Bruno," he said. "He's a local kid." "Where can we find these guys if we want to talk to them?" Angelo asked. "Thirty-eight twenty-two Fifty-fifth Street, apartment one," Frankie said. "Just off Northern Boulevard." Angelo took out a piece of paper and wrote the address down. "Whose idea was it?" he asked. "It was Manso's," Frankie sobbed. "I was telling the truth about that. It was his idea that if we did it, we'd all become Lucia soldiers, part of the inner circle. But I didn't want to do it. They made me go along."
"Why couldn't you have told us this in the car, Frankie?" Angelo asked. "You would have saved us a lot of trouble and yourself some grief."
"I was afraid the others would kill me if they found out I'd talked," Frankie said. "So you were more worried about your friends than us?" Angelo questioned as he stepped behind Frankie. It was enough to hurt Angelo's feelings. "That's curious. But no matter. Now you don't have to worry about your friends because we'll take care of you." "You got to get me something for my eye," Frankie said. "Sure," Angelo said. In a smooth motion and without a second's hesitation, Angelo pulled out his Walther TPH Auto pistol and shot Frankie in the back of the head just above the neck. Frankie's head snapped forward, then slumped down on his chest. The suddenness of the final act surprised Tony, who winced and stepped back, anticipating a gory mess. But there wasn't any. "Why didn't you let me do that?" he whined. "Shut up and untie him," Angelo said. "We're not here for your entertainment. We're working, remember?"
Once