The headache woke me up. I pushed the button for a nurse and got Markham instead. He looked happy.
“Havin’ second thoughts?” he asked me.
“Hurts too much to think.”
“Ha. Don’ go blamin’ me.”
“You on one of those eighty-hour shifts?”
When he spread his arms they seemed to swallow the entire room.
“Someone got to keep de place in business.”
He checked my pulse out of reflex. He pulled a pen-sized examination light out of his front pocket and clicked it on. His lips pursed when he shot it in my eyes.
“Not too bad, considerin’.”
“That’s a comfort.”
He clicked off the light and stood straight, still frowning with concentration.
“You got any beef with aspirin?” he asked me.
“Works on a hangover.”
“It’ll help.”
He scribbled on my chart and yelled to a passing nurse. She went off for the aspirin.
“Say, Doc.”
He looked up from my chart.
“Were you here when they brought me in?”
“Sure. I got you from the ER.”
“How’d I get here?”
“Some nice ladies drive you, I t’ink. Don’t really know. Der were some cops, but we shoo dem away.”
“Two or three ladies?”
He shrugged and shook his massive head.
“I only saw two. Dark-haired skinny one and a blond-haired bigger one. Gave me her card. Couldn’t tell if she want to sell me a house or jump down my pants,” he said cheerfully.
“She’s in real estate. It’s more or less the same thing.”
“I can ask the folks in the ER, but they don’ usually see nothing but the patient. Takes some concentration, that job.”
“That’s okay. Just wondering.”
“I could ask.”
“Nah. Just curious.”
He tucked his pen back in his pocket and patted the area around my head bandage. His enormous hands moved with a practiced ease. He seemed content with the job they’d done.
“Headache’s not the only noise you got in der, Mr. Acquillo. I can see that.”
“Probably what’s keeping me awake.”
“I can fix ’at. Offer’s still open.”
“Aspirin’s looking pretty good.”
“We’ll get the dressing changed in a little while. You want anyt’ing, ask for me.”
“Could be a big order.”
He gave my forearm a quick squeeze, leaving the full strength of his grip in reserve. Enough to crack walnuts.
“That’s why you call me. I’m big enough to do it.”
I actually slept again for another hour before Sullivan woke me up. He was in civilian clothes—jeans and cotton shirt, with a nylon jacket. He stood over me and shook his head.
“You should have told me,” he said.
“What?”
“You were out. We didn’t know how bad you were hurt. I didn’t know who to call or how to find out, so just for the hell of it I checked the priors database. Found a bunch of charges in Stamford and White Plains.”
“No convictions.”
“Reformed, eh?”
“I got suckered. I didn’t even see him.”
“That was my other question.”
“Hit me from behind. Twice.”
“People at the club thought it might be some big guy with a pinky ring. Was in the head the same time as you, only nobody saw anything.”
“It was full of people.”
“The door was shut.”
I shook my head. It hurt my tongue to talk.
“Don’t remember a big guy, looked Italian, maybe?” Sullivan asked again, “Black hair? Black clothes?”
“Black boots. That was the view from the floor.”
“Any idea why?”
“No.”
“No conspiracy theory?”
“Just some asshole I must’ve pissed off without knowing it. I’m good at that.”
“Cop in Stamford said you were a pro fighter.”
“Long time ago. Not much of a career. Trust me.”
“I don’t exactly, Mr. Acquillo.”
I started to wish I’d taken Markham up on his painkillers. I laid back and closed my eyes.
“I can understand that.”
“You ever find out who did this, you have to tell me. Even if you don’t want to press charges. I need to know who around here’s capable of assault, for whatever reason.”
“I will. If I figure it out, I’ll tell you.”
“Nothing you’d want to be workin’ out on your own.”
“Not interested in that. Can’t anyway. Doctor’s orders. One more shot to the head and I’m a drooler.”
Sullivan left me with a look that was equal parts warning and concern. I didn’t think he believed me, which wasn’t a surprise. I wouldn’t have either. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the beefy cop. In fact, he was growing on me. I just wanted to keep the bear to myself for a while. He was too important to let go.
A nurse came in to give me the aspirin. She delivered it in a little paper cup. She asked me if I needed anything else.
“A cigarette.”
“You’ll be released in about a half-hour,” she said sweetly, patting my arm. “You want the TV?”
“Talk about a killer.”
“Pick your poison.”
I was signing myself out and getting my car keys at the cashiers near the ER entrance when Amanda showed up. She stood back a few feet and waited for me to finish up, then followed me outside where we sat on the teak benches next to the orderlies catching morning cigarettes. I bummed one and smiled at Amanda.
“See what happens when I try to dance.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She leaned over to get a better look at the bandage stuck to the side of my head. She put her hands up to her mouth.
“It’s not that bad. They showed me in the mirror.”
“I was so frightened. What happened?”
“You don’t know?”
“They said you were in a fight.”
“Not exactly. All the fighting was done by the other guy. I never saw it coming.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess you didn’t hear anything, any buzz around the bar? You didn’t hear a name?”
“No, there was just talk about a fight. I don’t think anyone saw the other fellow very well. He must have left
