Not when they call at this time of night, he said. Back in a sec. Lucas picked up the phone in the den: Yeah?
SHE HEARD HIM POUNDING DOWN THE HALL; IT might have been funny if she hadnt heard him virtually screaming at the telephone. Lucas thundered into the bedroom, found Sherrill pulling up her underpants, snapping on her bra.
My pants… He seemed confused.
On the floor, by the foot of the bed.
My friend Elle…
I heard. Shes hurt and youve gotta go, she said. She rocked back on the bed to pull her jeans on. Ill drive.
Bullshit, you will, Lucas said.
I dont think youll be in any shape she protested, but Lucas cut her off.
Im fuckin driving, he snapped. Shoes?
I think one of them is under the bed, I think I kicked one under. ..
She was one garment ahead of him, stepping into her Nikes, collecting her revolver and purse from beside the nightstand, heading for the door. Lucas was ten seconds behind, out through the kitchen, into the garage, into the Porsche, slipping out under the garage door before it was fully up.
Flasher, she said, as they hit the street.
Busted, Lucas said.
Better go over to Cretin then, its better lit and youll hit some college kid if you run like this on Mississippi.
Lucas grunted, downshifted and slid through a corner, punched the car two blocks down to Cretin, ignored the stop sign and cut across the street in front of a small Chevy van and gunned it again; Sherrill braced herself and asked, How bad is she?
Shes bad, Lucas said.
Take her to Ramsey?
Yeah.
They notify Minneapolis?
That was one of the nuns at the Residence calling, another friend. They clipped the red light at Grand Avenue, barely beat the red at Summit, came up behind a line of cars, and Lucas threw the Porsche into the oncoming lane, whipped by a half-dozen vehicles. She was just calling because she knew Id want to know.
Better call Sloan or Del, she said, digging a cell phone out of her purse. This is the second run at you. Until we figure out whats going on, the rest of the guys ought to know.
Lucas risked a glance at her: she was sitting comfortably in the passenger seat, one hand forward to brace herself, the other hand working the cell phone. She was calm and composed, maybe a slight pink flush to her face. He looked to the front again, ran the red light at Randolph, burned past the golf course, and dove down the ramp onto
I-94.
They made a four-and-a-half-minute run to Ramsey Medical Center; Sherrill hooked up with Sloan one minute down the road, filled him in. Tell him to find Andi Manettes home phone number and call her, Lucas said. Weathers staying with the Manettes. Tell Weather about it. She and Elle are pretty tight.
Sherrill passed the word, clicked off the phone, looked at the speedometer. That all you can get out of this thing?
No, he said, and the needle climbed through 120.
She watched his face for a momenta brick, a stone then looked out at the cars flicking by. Good thing, she thought, that she hadnt driven. Shed never moved this fast on a vehicle that didnt have a stewardess.
LUCAS DUMPED THE PORSCHE IN AN AMBULANCES ONLY zone and they banged into the emergency room. A startled nurse turned toward them from the reception desk, and Lucas said, Im Deputy Police Chief Lucas Davenport from Minneapolis and a nun named Elle Kruger was brought in here…
Yes, yes, shes in X ray, she just got here, the doctors are working
Where?
Sir, I cant let you go
Where? He shouted it at her, and she stepped back and a couple of male white-coated orderlies started down the hall toward the desk.
Hold it, Sherrill said. Miss, can you tell us who the doctor in charge is? Jim Dunaway?
No, Larry Simone…
Okay, hes a friend of mine. Could you tell him Chief Davenport and Detective Sherrill are here asking about…
Sister Mary Joseph. Elle Kruger, Lucas said.
Ill be right back.
As the nurse started down the hall, waving off the orderlies, a thin, ill-tempered man stuck his head in the door and called, Hey, whose car is this out here?
Ill get it, Sherrill said to Lucas. Gimme the keys.
Lucas dug the keys out and handed them to her. The illtempered man raised his voice: Im asking, who the hell left their car out here
Ill move it, Sherrill said, walking toward him.
You goddamn well will move it, the man said. Or Ill push that thing right into the wall.
Sherrill stepped to within four inches of his face, her voice low and controlled. You shut your fuckin pie hole or I will break all your teeth out, she said. She pulled one hand back on her hip so the ill-tempered man could see the wooden butt of the. 357. His eyes slid away from hers, and she pushed through the door to the car.
A BALDING, HATCHET-FACED DOCTOR WALKED OUT of a back room, trailed by the reception nurse. He looked around, spotted Lucas. Are you with Marcy Sherrill?
Yes. Elle Krugerthe nunis my best friend.
This is Chief Davenport, said the nurse.
Come on back, he said. Wheres Marcy?
Outside, moving a car off the ramp. Hows Elle?
Not good, but shes better than the other one. Weve got head injury but no direct brain damage, like the girl. Weve got to manage the swelling and so on, which is gonna be a problem, but Im more worried about blunt trauma to her kidneys and liver. Somebody beat the hell out of her with what looks like a baseball bat.
Baseball bat?
Yeah…
Sherrill caught up with them and said, Larry, how are you? and the doc said, Id like to look at that leg of yours again.
I think its okay, she said.
Oh, I know; I just wanted to look for aesthetic reasons. And Sherrill snorted and said, Aesthetic, my ass, and he said, That too. .. and Sherrill said to Lucas, Larry was one of the docs that took care of me after that thing with John Mail.
Ah. Lucas said, and looked wildly at Simone, who said, Through there.
HE COULD BARELY SEE HER. SHE WAS FLAT ON HER back, under an operating drape, her head tilted back, her head already shaved and painted with iodine-colored disinfectant. A drip flowed into her arm, and her mouth was propped open. She looked like a saint who was about to be committed to fire.
Elle, Lucas whispered.
She cant respond, Simone said. She might hear you, somewhere in her head, but shes too doped up to show it.
Gonna be all right, Lucas said, his face a foot from her ear. She didnt look like any Elle Kruger he remembered: separated from the habit and other paraphernalia of the church, she looked stark; and the
