three weeks.”
“I didn’t think it was that bad.”
“The drugs are nothing. Even the back isn’t as bad as it looks. It’s inside. His rectum and bowels are all torn up.”
He raised his hand and held up a fist-thick ten-inch dildo. “This was shoved all the way up inside him.”
For a moment I thought I was going to be sick. “I’ll get in touch with his father,” I said.
The doctor nodded solemnly. “You can assure Reverend Sam that we’ll be very discreet.”
“You know the boy?” I asked in surprise.
“No, but Mr. Lonergan called and said you might be stopping by.”
Lonergan had thought of everything. Now maybe he could think of a way I could tell a father who trusted me to look after his son that I failed him.
CHAPTER 15
The Collector was on the pay phone when I went into the waiting room. “Lonergan wants to talk with you,” he said.
My uncle’s voice was flat. “How is the boy?”
“Hurt bad. But he’ll make it. I was just going to call his father.”
“I’ve already done that. He’s on his way over there now. I’m sending a car to take you home.”
“I have the Rolls here.”
“The police are looking for it. Leave the keys for Reverend Sam and get out of there.”
“I didn’t figure they were stupid enough to call the cops.”
“You put two men in the hospital,” he said dryly. “And the police ask questions. But you’re in the clear for now. Nobody gave them your name.”
My uncle always managed to surprise me. He seemed to have ears everywhere.
“When you get home, stay there until you hear from me. I’ll have a better line on this in the morning.”
“I have to talk to Reverend Sam and explain to him what happened.”
“You can do that tomorrow. Right now get your ass out of there.”
The phone went dead. I think it was the first time I ever heard my uncle swear.
The Collector held out his hand. “The car keys.”
I dropped them in his hand and followed him to the reception desk, where he gave the keys to the nurse, and then out the front door.
“There’s an all-night coffee shop on the next corner,” he said. “The car is pickin’ us up there.”
We walked the street in silence, the only sound our footsteps and an occasional automobile passing. The clock behind the counter in the restaurant read four fifteen.
The waiter put steaming cups of coffee in front of us. “What’ll it be, gents?”
“Ham ’n’ aig sandwich on a kaiser roll,” the Collector said. He looked at me.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
The coffee was scalding hot. I searched my pocket for a cigarette. The Collector held out a pack. I took one and lit it.
The Collector took a big bite from the sandwich the counterman put in front of him. He spoke with his mouth full. “You learn all that shit in the army?”
“What shit?”
“That judo stuff. The kicks an’ all that.” There was a note of admiration in his voice.
“That’s not judo. And they don’t teach it in the army.”
“What is it then?”
“Savate. It’s French. I took lessons from an old Foreign Legion sergeant who stayed in Saigon after the French pulled out.”
He took another bite of his sandwich and chuckled. “Man, I wisht I could do that. It was graceful like a ballet dancer. Lonergan tol’ me that it’ll take ’em three hours just to wire up his jaw. He’ll be eating through a straw for three months.”
“The son of a bitch is lucky I didn’t kill him.”
The Collector looked into my eyes. “You’re a strange one, Gareth. I don’ understand you at all. All this time I got you figured for a nothin’. I never understood why Lonergan took such a personal interest in you.”
“Now you know. I’m his nephew.”
“It ain’t just that. Lonergan’s too smart to go for the family trap. You’re somethin’ else.” His eyes went to the window. He got to his feet, pulled out two dollars and dropped it on the table. “The car is here. Let’s go.”
***
By the time I reached
“I didn’t think it was that bad.”
“The drugs are nothing. Even the back isn’t as bad as it looks. It’s inside. His rectum and bowels are all torn up.”
He raised his hand and held up a fist-thick ten-inch dildo. “This was shoved all the way up inside him.”
For a moment I thought I was going to be sick. “I’ll get in touch with his father,” I said.
The doctor nodded solemnly. “You can assure Reverend Sam that we’ll be very discreet.”
“You know the boy?” I asked in surprise.
“No, but Mr. Lonergan called and said you might be stopping by.”
Lonergan had thought of everything. Now maybe he could think of a way I could tell a father who trusted me to look after his son that I failed him.
CHAPTER 15
The Collector was on the pay phone when I went into the waiting room. “Lonergan wants to talk with you,” he said.
My uncle’s voice was flat. “How is the boy?”
“Hurt bad. But he’ll make it. I was just going to call his father.”
“I’ve already done that. He’s on his way over there now. I’m sending a car to take you home.”
“I have the Rolls here.”
“The police are looking for it. Leave the keys for Reverend Sam and get out of there.”
“I didn’t figure they were stupid enough to call the cops.”
“You put two men in the hospital,” he said dryly. “And the police ask questions. But you’re in the clear for now. Nobody gave them your name.”
My uncle always managed to surprise me. He seemed to have ears everywhere.
“When you get home, stay there until you hear from me. I’ll have a better line on this in the morning.”
“I have to talk to Reverend Sam and explain to him what happened.”
“You can do that tomorrow. Right now get your ass out of there.”
The phone went dead. I think it was the first time I ever heard my uncle swear.
The Collector held out his hand. “The car keys.”
I dropped them in his hand and followed him to the reception desk, where he gave the keys to the nurse, and then out the front door.
“There’s an all-night coffee shop on the next corner,” he said. “The car is pickin’ us up there.”
We walked the street in silence, the only sound our footsteps and an occasional automobile passing. The clock behind the counter in the restaurant read four fifteen.
The waiter put steaming cups of coffee in front of us. “What’ll it be, gents?”
“Ham ’n’ aig sandwich on a kaiser roll,” the Collector said. He looked at me.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
The coffee was scalding hot. I searched my pocket for a cigarette. The Collector held out a pack. I took one and lit it.
The Collector took a big bite from the sandwich the counterman put in front of him. He spoke with his mouth full. “You learn all that shit in the army?”
“What shit?”
“That judo stuff. The kicks an’ all that.” There was a note of admiration in his voice.
“That’s not judo. And they don’t teach it in the army.”
“What is it then?”
“Savate. It’s French. I took lessons from an old Foreign Legion sergeant who stayed in Saigon after the French pulled out.”
He took another bite of his sandwich and chuckled. “Man, I wisht I could do that. It was graceful like a ballet dancer. Lonergan tol’ me that it’ll take ’em three hours just to wire up his jaw. He’ll be eating through a straw for three months.”
“The son of a bitch is lucky I didn’t kill him.”
The Collector looked into my eyes. “You’re a strange one, Gareth. I don’ understand you at all. All this time I got you figured for a nothin’. I never understood why Lonergan took such a personal interest in you.”
“Now you know. I’m his nephew.”
“It ain’t just that. Lonergan’s too smart to go for the family trap. You’re somethin’ else.” His eyes went to the window. He got to his feet, pulled out two dollars and dropped it on the table. “The car is here. Let’s go.”
***
By the time I reached
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