'That's pretty broad.'
'That's what I need.'
'Does it have to do with Cassie Jones?'
The fingers on his knees began drumming. 'Not directly.'
'But indirectly.'
He didn't answer.
I said, 'You want a pledge from me, but you won't give an in' You've got to work for the government.
Silence. He examined the pattern of my Persian rug.
'If it compromises Cassie,' I said, 'I can't pledge anything.
'You're wrong,' he said, and gave another headshake. 'If you really cared about her, you wouldn't obstruct me.'
'Why's that?'
'I can help her too.'
'You're a pretty helpful guy, aren't you?'
He shrugged.
'If you're able to stop the abuse, why haven't you?'
He ceased drumming and touched one index finger to the other.
'I didn't say I was omniscient. But I can be useful. You haven't made much progress so far, have you?'
Before I could answer, he was up and headed for the kitchen. He returned with Milo, who was carrying three cups of coffee.
Taking one for himself, Milo put the remaining two on the coffee table and settled on the other end of the sofa. Our eyes met. He gave a small nod. Trace of apology.
Huenengarth sat back down, in a different chair from the one he'd just gotten out of Neither he nor I touched our coffee.
Milo said, 'Skoal,' and drank.
'Now what?' I said.
'Yeah,' said Milo. 'He's low on charm, but maybe he can do what he says he can.' Huenengarth turned toward him and glared.
Milo sipped, crossed his legs.
I said, 'You're here of your own free will, huh?'
Milo said, 'Well, everything's relative.' To Huenengarth: 'Stop playing Junior G-man and give the man some data.'
Huenengarth glared some more. Turned to me. Looked at his coffee cup.
Touched his mustache.
'This theory you have,' he told me, 'about Charles Jones and George Plumb destroying the hospital-who've you discussed it with so far?'
'It's nor my theory. The entire staff thinks the administration's screwing the place over.'
'The entire staff hasn't taken it as far as you have. Who've you talked to besides Louis B. Cestare?'
