Daddy. Like a term paper delusions of grandeur. No doubt the bank' Il go to Daddy first, before taking over the deed. And Daddy may just divvy up. Because he loves Junior, tells everyone who'll listen what a scholar his baby boy is--another joke. Junior changed his major a bunch of times in college.
Didn't finish his Ph.D.--the old boredomm again.'
'One thing he has stuck with is teaching,' I said. And he seems to be good at it--he's won awards.'
Huenengarth let his tongue protrude through his small lips as he shook his head. 'Yeah. Formal Organizations, New Age Management Techniques.
We're talking Marxist theory and rock n' roll. He's an entertaining speaker. I've got tapes of his lectures, and basically what he does is pander to the students. Lots of anti-capitalist rhetoric, the evils of corporate corruption. You don't have to be Freud to figure that one out, right?
He likes rubbing the old man's face in it-even the wife's part of that program, wouldn't you say?'
'In what way?'
'C'mon, Doctor. Milo, here, told me you found out about her military career. The woman's a slut. A low-life loser. On top of what she's doing to the kid. Can't exactly be what the old man had in mind for Junior.'
He grinned. Scarlet again, and sweating heavily. Nearly levitating off his chair in rage and delight. His hatred was tangible, poisonous.
Stephanie felt it; her eyes were thrilled.
'What about Chip's mother?' I said. 'How did she die?'
He shrugged. 'Suicide. Sleeping pills. Entire family's fucked up.
Though I can't say I blame her. Don't imagine living with Chuck was any barrel of primates. He's been known to play around--likes em in groups of three or four, young, chesty, blond, borderline intelligence.'
I said, 'You'd like to get all of them, wouldn't you?'
'I've got no use for them,' he said quickly. Then he got up, took a few steps, turned his back on us, and stretched.
'So,' he said. 'Let's aim for tomorrow. You get 'em out, we move in and play Captain Video.'
'Great, Bill,' said Stephanie. Her beeper went off. She removed it from her belt and examined the digital readout. 'Where's your phone, Alex?'
I walked her into the kitchen and hung around as she punched numbers.
'This is Dr. Eves. I just got... What?... When?.. All right, give me the resident on call... Jim? This is Stephanie. What's up?... Yes, yes, there's a history of that. It's all in the chart.... Absolutely, keep that drip going. Sounds like you're doing everything right, but get me a full tox panel, stat. Make sure to check for hypoglycemic metabolites. Check all over for puncture wounds, too, but don't let on, okay? It's important, Jim. Please.......... Thanks. And keep her totally isolated. No one goes in.... Especially not them... What?... Out in the hall. Leave the drapes open so they can see her, but no one goes inside.... I don't care.... I know.
let it be on my head, Jim.... What?... No. Keep her in ICU. Even if things lighten up... I don't care, Jim. Find a bed somewhere. This one's crucial.... What?... Soon. Soon as I can, maybe an hour. Just- What?... Yes, I will.... Okay.
Thanks.
I owe you.' She hung up. Her face was white and her chest heaved.
Again,' I said.
She looked past me. Held her head.
Again,' she said. 'This time she's unconscious.'
Quiet night on Chappy Ward. No shortage of empty rooms.
This one was two doors down from 5o5W Cassie's room.
That cold, clean hospital smell.
