The modest next step, of course, was to pull on the panties under the hospital gown before removing the gown; but I’d challenged her and to hell with modesty. She caught the hem and made a slow and graceful production of pulling the gown off over her head. Clearly, she was confident that while her face displayed the haggardness of illness, there was nothing wrong with her body. She was quite right. It was a very nice, taut female body, moderately tall, adult but slender, lightly tanned except for very skimpy bikini-marks. Watching her unveil and dress it was a disturbing experience, just as she meant it to be.
“What did they tell you over the phone?” she asked as she zipped and buttoned herself up.
“Scramble. In our language, that means get the hell out of wherever you are, with whoever you care to preserve alive, because they’re coming for you with homicidal intentions
now.
”
“Who is coming?”
I shrugged. “How the hell would I know? I’ve had a little Japanese car tailing me, and a pretty blonde girl waving a pistol at me, and a handsome brown-eyed lady doing a reverse striptease for me. Things are tough all over. I’ll worry about who when I’m clear; right now all I want is out of here.”
“Well, you’d better fasten my shoes, then,” she said. “If I try to bend over that far, I’ll fall on my face.”
I knelt at her feet, where she obviously enjoyed having me. “Your heart pills,” I said. “Have you got any spares?”
“No, they just bring me one four times a day.”
“When’s the next one due?”
“Two hours from now, at ten o’clock. Then I take it at four, ten, four—that’s the ghastly early-morning one they’ve been waking me for—and ten again. They say it does no damage if I am a little over the time, or under, but I am not supposed to miss it by too much.”
“We’ll have to head for a drugstore I know where we can stock up, no questions asked. We should be there in time to keep you on schedule. You know the stuff you want?”
“Procan SR, five hundred milligrams.”
“Smart girl.”
She laughed rather grimly. “Would a smart girl let a strange man drag her out of the hospital half-dead on her feet?”
But she marched out of the room bravely enough, holding herself very straight, her high heels tapping crisply on the vinyl flooring; and nobody stopped us. I hated to make her take any detours, but it seemed inadvisable to use the front door. By the time we’d found our way to the rear of the hospital and used the stairs there and found an exit, she was sagging noticeably.
“Can you make a block and a half?” I asked. “I could leave you here and bring the car around, but—”
“I do not want to be left anywhere, please,” she said. “Not if you think people are planning to kill us.”
I had to steady her for the last half block. A stout lady who passed us thought it was disgusting, a nice-looking, nicely dressed young woman like that stumbling around drunk so early in the day. As we approached the place where I’d left the jazzy little Ford, I couldn’t spot it at once. I had a moment of panic, wondering whether I’d remembered the street and block incorrectly, or whether the police tow truck had been around. There was no way my rubber-legged companion was going to make it clear to the Holiday Inn, where her Buick was parked, under her own power. I preferred the mini-Ford anyway. It was smaller and peppier and less conspicuous; and I was used to the way it handled.
Then I saw it, hidden behind a blocky green van, exactly where I’d left it, without even a parking ticket on the windshield. I got the door open and helped Astrid inside after reclining the seat to make her more comfortable. She lay back against the headrest and closed her eyes, looking very pale and vulnerable. I made her a silent apology. For all her glamour-accent and femme-fatale manner, she seemed to be a brave, tough woman, fighting hard to meet my unreasonable demands in
“What did they tell you over the phone?” she asked as she zipped and buttoned herself up.
“Scramble. In our language, that means get the hell out of wherever you are, with whoever you care to preserve alive, because they’re coming for you with homicidal intentions
now.
”
“Who is coming?”
I shrugged. “How the hell would I know? I’ve had a little Japanese car tailing me, and a pretty blonde girl waving a pistol at me, and a handsome brown-eyed lady doing a reverse striptease for me. Things are tough all over. I’ll worry about who when I’m clear; right now all I want is out of here.”
“Well, you’d better fasten my shoes, then,” she said. “If I try to bend over that far, I’ll fall on my face.”
I knelt at her feet, where she obviously enjoyed having me. “Your heart pills,” I said. “Have you got any spares?”
“No, they just bring me one four times a day.”
“When’s the next one due?”
“Two hours from now, at ten o’clock. Then I take it at four, ten, four—that’s the ghastly early-morning one they’ve been waking me for—and ten again. They say it does no damage if I am a little over the time, or under, but I am not supposed to miss it by too much.”
“We’ll have to head for a drugstore I know where we can stock up, no questions asked. We should be there in time to keep you on schedule. You know the stuff you want?”
“Procan SR, five hundred milligrams.”
“Smart girl.”
She laughed rather grimly. “Would a smart girl let a strange man drag her out of the hospital half-dead on her feet?”
But she marched out of the room bravely enough, holding herself very straight, her high heels tapping crisply on the vinyl flooring; and nobody stopped us. I hated to make her take any detours, but it seemed inadvisable to use the front door. By the time we’d found our way to the rear of the hospital and used the stairs there and found an exit, she was sagging noticeably.
“Can you make a block and a half?” I asked. “I could leave you here and bring the car around, but—”
“I do not want to be left anywhere, please,” she said. “Not if you think people are planning to kill us.”
I had to steady her for the last half block. A stout lady who passed us thought it was disgusting, a nice-looking, nicely dressed young woman like that stumbling around drunk so early in the day. As we approached the place where I’d left the jazzy little Ford, I couldn’t spot it at once. I had a moment of panic, wondering whether I’d remembered the street and block incorrectly, or whether the police tow truck had been around. There was no way my rubber-legged companion was going to make it clear to the Holiday Inn, where her Buick was parked, under her own power. I preferred the mini-Ford anyway. It was smaller and peppier and less conspicuous; and I was used to the way it handled.
Then I saw it, hidden behind a blocky green van, exactly where I’d left it, without even a parking ticket on the windshield. I got the door open and helped Astrid inside after reclining the seat to make her more comfortable. She lay back against the headrest and closed her eyes, looking very pale and vulnerable. I made her a silent apology. For all her glamour-accent and femme-fatale manner, she seemed to be a brave, tough woman, fighting hard to meet my unreasonable demands in
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