Deadline for Lenny Stern, Peter Marabell [sneezy the snowman read aloud .TXT] 📗

of the head. Fist to the ribs.

It was Dexter, couldn’t see the other two. Dexter swung low, to the ribs, swung high to the head.

“Stay away from Cavendish. Got it?”

Another to the ribs. “Not your business. You’re a dead man you fuck with Cavendish.” Two quick hits, the ribs, the face.

On the tarmac. They were gone.

44

Noise … beeping? What? Beeping? Pinging?

“Mr. Russo?” A women’s voice.

“That noise, what’s that noise?”

“Mr. Russo? Over here, Mr. Russo. Look left.”

I moved my head slowly.

“Yes, this way. Open your eyes a little.”

“What’s that noise?”

“It’s a monitor, Mr. Russo.”

“Where …”

“The emergency room, Mr. Russo. You’re safe. The emergency room in Petoskey.”

My eyes began to focus.

A white coat, a name scribbled on the left breast pocket. A soft smile, brown hair.

“You were worked over pretty good,” she said. “You can still take a punch, I’ll give you that.”

“You … you …”

“Look familiar, do I, Mr. Russo?”

I nodded. It hurt.

“I’m Dr. Rochelle Silverstein. Hospital staff.”

I didn’t place her.

“I was on duty the last time you were brought in. The time before that, too. Every couple of years, it seems.”

“Give him the good news,” another voice said. “And the bad news.”

“Marty?”

“Having a rough evening?” Fleener said from the end of the bed.

“Is your head a little clearer?” the doc said.

I nodded. It hurt, but not as much.

“You can hear me okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Mr. Russo,” the doc said, “the good news is, no serious damage. You took a beating, mostly the ribs and the lower back. You were kicked in the groin, but they missed. A few shots to the head, but they look worse than they are.”

“The bad news?” I said, my head not quite as fuzzy.

“I gave you something for the pain, especially your ribs. When it wears off, you’ll be pretty sore for a while.”

I looked around.

“She went downstairs for coffee,” Fleener said.

“Mr. Russo,” Dr. Silverstein said, “it’s a busy night. I’ll check back later, see how you’re doing.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost midnight,” she said.

“Can I get out of here?”

“I’ll check back,” she said with a smile, and left the room.

I reached for the left side of my head. Sore, especially around the ear.

Fleener moved up closer. “Do you remember what happened?”

“How’d you get here?”

“One of the patrol officers recognized your name called.”

“At the hospital?”

Fleener nodded. “What happened?”

“I left the office …”

AJ came through the door.

“Michael, hi.”

“Hi,” I said, trying to sit up.

AJ put down her coffee.

“Lift up a little,” she said, pushing the pillows back and up. “Is that better?”

“Thanks.” It was better, and easier to talk.

“I was asking our friend,” Fleener said, “if he remembered what happened.”

I described the evening’s events, starting with a carryout dinner.

“He asked me to meet him,” AJ said.

“Good thing you weren’t there,” I said.

“They wouldn’t have jumped you if I’d been there. And even if they did, I could have done something.”

“AJ,” I said.

“I should’ve met you.”

“Don’t … don’t feel guilty about it.”

“You went to Gaylord alone? We talked about that, remember? Why didn’t you wait for Henri?”

“Hold on, both of you,” Fleener said. “Stop. Just … just take it easy. It’s over.”

The room went quiet, except for the incessant beeping. AJ picked up her coffee and drank some.

“Did you recognize them?” Fleener said.

“Dexter,” I said. “Sam Dexter did the hitting.”

“You’re sure?” Fleener said.

“I’m sure. The guys who held me, don’t know, not for sure. Good bet they were the others.”

“Didn’t you tell me there’s four of them?” AJ said.

“As far as we know,” Fleener said.

The door opened, we all looked. Henri came in, went around AJ and Fleener to the other side of the bed.

“Michael, you all right?”

“I’m okay.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Cavendish do this?”

Before I could answer, Henri said, “How many?”

I told him.

He sized up the situation quickly. “The hitter Dexter?”

I nodded.

“The oldest thinks he’s the toughest,” Henri said. “Think I’ll ask him about that.”

“No,” Fleener said. “Stay out of it.”

Henri ignored what he said, and we all knew it.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Fleener said.

Not expecting that from an officer of the court, we all looked his way and waited.

“Are we off the record?” Fleener said to AJ.

“Can the paper have the story first?” She was an editor these days, the one who got the digital edition of the Post Dispatch up and running, but she never stopped being a reporter.

“Yes,” Fleener said.

“Then we’re off the record.”

Fleener turned toward me. “File a complaint against Sam Dexter.”

“I could do that,” I said, curious what he had in mind.

“We’ll arrest Dexter, play him a little. Talk about him and his pals beating you up. Then say we know about the drugs, push him. Make it sound like we have hard info … accuse him of dealing. If we can get him to talk drugs and Sylvia Cavendish …”

“You’ll bring her in,” I said.

Fleener nodded. “I don’t care about the drugs.”

“What about her sons?” AJ said.

“Our information says Sylvia’s been supplying drugs, they had nothing on her sons. We’ll start with her and see where it leads.”

“The prosecutor okay this?” Henri said.

“If Hendricks believes we have a shot at the people who killed Kate Hubbell,” Fleener said, “he’ll go for it.”

Our conversation stopped when Dr. Silverstein returned to the room.

“I’ll take care of that complaint, Marty,” I said.

“How’s your head?” the doc asked. “A little clearer?”

“Yes. Can I go?”

“Sorry, Mr. Russo,” she said. “Whatever you had planned for ‘later,’ will have to wait. You can’t drive. Even walking will be unsteady for a few hours. So, no, no plans for anything until morning. Understood?”

“But I can leave the hospital?”

She looked at the others crowded around the bed. “If one of you will take him home, he can leave.”

“I’ll do it,” AJ said.

“Good,” the doc said. “I have other patients to see, so I’ll be off. Mr. Russo,” she began, then paused. “Mr. Russo, I’d rather not see you in my ER again. Could you work on that, please?”

“I’ll try,” I said.

“He’ll do better than that,” AJ said.

“All right, then,” Dr. Silverstein said, and left the room.

“I’ll get a warrant for Dexter,” Fleener said. “Will