nothinghappenedforaweekexceptthatiwentaboutmybusinesswhichjustthendidn’thappentobeverymuchbusiness.onemorninggeorgepetersofthecarneorganizationcalledmeupandtoldmehehadhappenedtobedownsepulvedacanyonwayandhadlookedinondr.verringer’splacejustoutofcuriosity.butdr.verringerwasnolongerthere.halfadozenteamsofsurveyorsweremappingthetractforasubpision.thosehespoketohadneverevenheardofdr.verringer.

“thepoorsuckergotclosedoutonatrustdeed,”peterssaid.“ichecked.theygavehimagrandforaquitclaimjusttosavetimeandexpense,andnowsomebodyisgoingtomakeamillionbucksclear,outofcuttingtheplaceupforresidentialproperty.that’sthedifferencebetweencrimeandbusiness.forbusinessyougottahavecapital.sometimesithinkit’stheonlydifference.”

“aproperlycynicalremark,”isaid,“butbigtimecrimetakescapitaltoo.”

“andwheredoesitcomefrom,chum?notfromguysthatholdupliquorstores.solong.seeyousoon.”

itwastenminutestoelevenonathursdaynightwhenwadecalledmeup.hisvoicewasthick,almostgurgling,butirecognizeditsomehow.andicouldhearshorthardrapidbreathingoverthetelephone.

“i’minbadshape,marlowe.verybad.i’mslippingmyanchor.couldyoumakeitouthereinahurry?”

“sure—butletmetalktomrs.wadeaminute.”

hedidn’tanswer.therewasacrashingsound,thenadeadsilence,theninashortwhileakindofbangingaround.iyelledsomethingintothephonewithoutgettinganyanswer.timepassed.finallythelightclickofthereceiverbeingreplacedandthebuzzofanopenline.

infiveminutesiwasontheway.imadeitinslightlyoverhalfanhourandistilldon’tknowhow.iwentoverthepassonwingsandhitventuraboulevardwiththelightagainstmeandmadealeftturnanyhowanddodgedbetweentrucksandgenerallymadeadamnfoolofmyself.iwentthroughencinoatclosetosixtywithaspotlightontheouteredgeoftheparkedcarssothatitwouldfreezeanyonewithanotiontostepoutsuddenly.ihadthekindofluckyouonlygetwhenyoudon’tcare.nocops,nosirens,noredflashers.justvisionsofwhatmightbehappeninginthewaderesidenceandnotverypleasantvisions.shewasaloneinthehousewithadrunkenmaniac,shewaslyingatthebottomofthestairswithherneckbroken,shewasbehindalockeddoorandsomebodywashowlingoutsideandtryingtobreakitin,shewasrunningdownamoonlitroadbarefootandabigbucknegrowithameatcleaverwaschasingher.

itwasn’tlikethatatall.wheniswungtheoldsintotheirdrivewaylightswereonalloverthehouseandshewasstandingintheopendoorwaywithacigaretteinhermouth.igotoutandwalkedovertheflagstonestoher.shehadslacksonandashirtwithanopencollar.shelookedatmecalmly.iftherewasanyexcitementaroundthereihadbroughtitwithme.

thefirstthingisaidwasasloonyastherestofmybehavior.“ithoughtyoudidn’tsmoke.”

“what?no,idon’tusually.”shetookthecigaretteoutandlookedatitanddroppeditandsteppedonit.“onceinalongwhile.hecalleddr.verringer.”

itwasaremoteplacidvoice,avoiceheardatnightoverwater.completelyrelaxed.

“hecouldn’t,”isaid.“dr.verringerdoesn’tlivethereanymore.hecalledme.”

“ohreally?ijustheardhimtelephoningandaskingsomeonetocomeinahurry.ithoughtitmustbedr.verringer.”

“whereishenow?”

“hefelldown,”shesaid.“hemusthavetippedthechairtoofarback.he’sdoneitbefore.hecuthisheadonsomething.there’salittleblood,notmuch.”

“well,that’sfine,”isaid.“wewouldn’twantawholelotofblood.whereishenow,iaskedyou.”

shelookedatmesolemnly.thenshepointed.“outtheresomewhere.bytheedgeoftheroadorinthebushesalongthefence.”

ileanedforwardandpeeredather.“chrissake,didn’tyoulook?”idecidedbythistimethatshewasinshock.thenilookedbackacrossthelawn.ididn’tseeanythingbuttherewasheavyshadownearthefence.

“no,ididn’tlook,”shesaidquitecalmly.“youfindhim.i’vehadallofiticantake.i’vehadmorethanicantake.youfindhim.”

sheturnedandwalkedbackintothehouse,leavingthedooropen.shedidn’twalkveryfar.aboutayardinsidethedoorshejustcrumpledtothefloorandlaythere.iscoopedherupandspreadheroutononeofthetwobigdavenportsthatfacedeachotheracrossalongblondcocktailtable.ifeltherpulse.itdidn’tseemveryweakorunsteady.hereyeswereclosedandthelidswereblue.ileftherthereandwentbackout.

hewasthereallright,justasshehadsaid.hewaslyingonhissideintheshadowofthehibiscus.hehadafastthumpingpulseandhisbreathingwasunnatural.somethingonthebackofhisheadwassticky.ispoketohimandshookhimalittle.islappedhisfaceacoupleoftimes.hemumbledbutdidn’tcometo.idraggedhimupintoasittingpositionanddraggedoneofhisarmsovermyshoulderandheavedhimupwithmybackturnedtohimandgrabbedforaleg.ilost.hewasasheavyasablockofcement.webothsatdownonthegrassanditookashortbreatherandtriedagain.finallyigothimhoistedintoafireman’sliftpositionandplowedacrossthelawninthedirectionoftheopenfrontdoor.itseemedaboutthesamedistanceasaroundtriptosiam.thetwostepsoftheporchweretenfeethigh.istaggeredovertothecouchandwentdownonmykneesandrolledhimoff.whenistraightenedupagainmyspinefeltasifithadcrackedinatleastthreeplaces.

eileenwadewasn’tthereanymore.ihadtheroomtomyself.iwastoobushedatthemomenttocarewhereanybodywas.isatdownandlookedathimandwaitedforsomebreath.thenilookedathishead.itwassmearedwithblood.hishairwasstickywithit.itdidn’tlookverybadbutyouneverknowwithaheadwound.

theneileenwadewasstandingbesideme,quietlylookingdownathimwiththatsameremoteexpression.

“i’msorryifainted,”shesaid.“idon’tknowwhy.”

“iguesswe’dbettercalladoctor.”

“itelephoneddr.loring.heismydoctor,youknow.hedidn’twanttocome.”