“What?”
“Take his feet. We can’t leave him out here.”
“Oh.” Formutesca went down to Gonor’s feet, but then said, “He’s face down. Shouldn’t we turn him over?”
“No,” Parker said. He bent and took Gonor under the arms. “Come on, Formutesca.”
Formutesca shook his head trying to clear it. “I’m sorry,” he said. He lifted Gonor by the ankles. “His feet are skinny,” he said.
They crossed the street and went up to the entrance of the museum. Parker held Gonor propped up while Formutesca unlocked the door; then they carried the body in and set it down on the floor. Looking down, Formutesca said, “What a waste. What an awful waste.”
“Go move the truck,” Parker told him. He had to keep Formutesca moving; he was the only one left who could be used.
Formutesca looked at him vaguely. “Move the truck?”
“Put it down in the next block and then hurry back here. Go on, move.”
Formutesca nodded, still vague, but when he went out he did move fast. Parker followed him out, and as Formutesca got into the truck Parker went to the two bodies lying on the sidewalk. He grabbed Hoskins as he’d carried Gonor and dragged him up the walk and into the museum. He left the body beside the other one and hurried back out to take a look at Manado.
The boy was alive but unconscious. He’d been hit twice, once in the left side just above the waist, once high on the left shoulder. It looked as though neither bullet was in him. The lower wound was still bleeding, and his hands were cold.
Parker picked him up in his arms and carried him into the museum. There was a padded bench along the side wall and Parker put him down there. He turned as Formutesca came trotting in.
Parker said, “Shut the door.”
Formutesca did, and said, “What now?”
“We’ll take Manado upstairs. It’d be best to take the whole bench.”
“All right.”
The bench was heavy, and it was slow work carrying it with Manado on it the length of the building to the elevator. Once they got it inside and were on their way to the fourth floor, Parker said, “Do you have a doctor you can trust?”
“Major Indindu is a doctor.”
Parker was surprised. He said, “Your candidate for president?”
Formutesca smiled. “Yes,” he said. “We still need Renaissance men in Africa. Major Indindu is a military man, a politician, a physician and a teacher. He has also worked for a shipping line and been a journalist.”
“Call him when we get upstairs,” Parker said. “Is the phone still working?”
“Oh, yes. Things went beautifully, just the way you said they would.” He shook his head. “In here, I mean.”
“Hoskins couldn’t keep away,” Parker said.
“How did he know to be here?”
They were at the fourth floor. The door slid back. Parker said, “He must have followed somebody.”
“What are youdoing here?”
“Later,” Parker said. “We take care of Manado first. Lift.”
Formutesca wanted to go on asking questions, but he shrugged and lifted his end of the bench instead. They carried it down the hall and into the first bedroom they reached.
Parker said, “Take a look in the medicine cabinet. We need something to stop the bleeding. Then call Indindu.”
“All right.”
Formutesca left, and Parker moved Manado from the bench to the room’s double bed. He opened Manado’s clothing, then stuffed a pillow against the wound in the side. Manado made a small noise in his throat, and his head moved slightly.
Parker looked at his watch. Quarter to four. An hour and fifteen minutes to get everything cleared away and organized.
There were sirens. He went to the window and looked down and saw two police cars come to a stop in the middle of the block. The occupants got out, walked around, looked up at the buildings, looked into the few parked cars, talked to one another. They didn’t seem to know what to do. Nobody came out of any of the buildings to tell them anything.
After a minute they got back into their cars and, without sirens, drove away.
2
Major Indindu came into the living-room. “He’ll be all right,” he said. “He’s in shock, of course, and he’s lost a lot of blood, but he’ll survive.”
“Good,” Formutesca said. He was obviously too nervous to sit; he’d been pacing back and forth for twenty minutes now. Parker, having made himself a pot of coffee in the kitchen, had been sitting by the window drinking
