A few minutes later an ambulance wheeled into emergency, followed by the Stick. The ambulance
held three more of Turk Nance?s gunmen, one of whom had literally lost his head in the shooting.
“That was me, too,” Mufalatta murmured again.
“You had some day,” Lange said.
No Nance.
“They headed for the interstate bridge,” Stick explained. “I radioed ahead, had the bridge sealed off.
They tried to go cross-country and hit a delivery truck. Nance was AWOL. I don?t know what the hell
happened to him, but I?ve put an all points out on him.”
“We got the little s.o.b. this time,” Dutch said. “We can nail him with murder, arson, creating a public
nuisance, discharging firearms in the street.
“Yeah,” 1 said, “all we got to do is find him.”
“How about Nose?” the Kid asked. “What do we charge him with? He was just protecting his ass.”
“Concealed weapons?” Stick suggested.
“There wasn?t anything concealed about them,” Dutch said. “1 don?t know what we?re gonna do
about Nose. There?s gotta be something we can stick him with.”
“One thing for certain,” Stick said, “it?s sure as hell gonna attract a lot of people.”
It did. Within thirty minutes Chief Walters, Titan, Donleavy, and several other dignitaries were in the
emergency clinic, all asking questions. I had better things to do. 1 asked the Stick to run me back to
the park to get my car and check on the progress of our black-water diver. As we started to leave,
Titan grabbed my arm.
“What the hell happened over there?” he demanded.
“Ask Dutch,” I said. “I?m busy.”
“I?ll bet my pension you shook up this ruckus,” he said, his voice beginning to rise. He sounded like a
dog whining.
“That?s right. I attacked all twenty-five of them with my nail file,” I said, and walked out.
A few doors down from emergency, bronze casket was being loaded through the morgue entrance into
a hearse. Doe Raines was standing alone, watching the procedure. I walked down to her. She was
wearing a severe black suit and a black hat and was carrying a black purse. As usual, she was dressed
impeccably for the occasion.
“I?m sorry,” I said. “If it?s any consolation, I really think Harry was one of the few people in this town
who weren?t involved in the whole mess. His only sin was naivete.”
She looked up at me. She was drifting aimlessly through a bad dream. Her makeup, heavier than
usual, could not cover the grief lines around her eyes. Her voice, low and husky with sorrow, sounded
