Where was the outrage?, I asked myself.
Doc Bridges took the newspaper away, then held a finger in front of my eyes and we did the “follow this with your pupils” routine again.
In a very clinical tone, he said, “The bullet passed within millimeters of your spine. You’re lucky.”
“How lucky?”
He was reading something off a chart. “It missed your spine, didn’t it?”
“I guess.”
“I could see you’ve been shot before, so you know the drill. You’ll be in a wheelchair for a while, then you’ll use a cane. But after some physical therapy, you’ll be almost normal.”
I suppose I should’ve been relieved, but if you’ve ever spent any time in physical therapy, you know that’s not something you eagerly anticipate. And Army hospitals are to physical therapy what Nazi death camps were to racial harmony in Europe.
I groaned. “
He chuckled to himself. “You weren’t exactly normal in the first place. I’m not a miracle worker. Don’t expect me to turn out improved products.”
This is another of those old jokes doctors find funny. No wonder the hospital staff kept this guy hidden at the rear of the hospital, as far from humanity as they could get him.
He put the clipboard on its hook and said, “There’s another lady who’s been waiting outside for you. In fact, she’s the one who made me come in here and wake you up. I tried telling her you need your rest, and she said she knew what you needed better than I do.”
“What’s she look like?” I asked.
He shrugged.
“What’s that mean?” I asked.
“She’s been giving me hell since you got here. She told me if I lost you, she’d break my neck. She meant it, too. Very frightening.”
He spun around and walked out. A moment later the door slammed back open and in stomped the living typhoon herself: the one and only Imelda Pepperfield.
She looked at me, then huffed and puffed a couple of times.
I said, “You know you’re not supposed to be here?”
“ ’Course I know that.”
I tried to frown, but I smiled.
“It hurt?” she asked.
“Not a bit,” I candidly admitted. “I think I’ve got enough drugs pumping through my veins, you could reach over and rip off one of my arms and I wouldn’t feel a thing.”
She nodded a few times, then she said, “You done damned good, Major.”
Now, if you know anything about Imelda Pepperfield, you know praise coming from her lips is like water pouring from a rock. In other words, it don’t happen often. And when it does, don’t act shy or aw-shucksy. Relish the moment.
I was beaming like a little idiot, and she actually reached over and patted me on the head. I was like a cat getting its back stroked by a proud master.
She scooched her butt onto the side of my bed. “You been recused,” she said, confirming what I already knew.
“There were some conflicts,” I replied, obviously unable to explain what had really happened, even to Imelda. She, unlike me, was still a member of Katherine’s staff, so I couldn’t risk compromising her.
“Trial starts tomorrow,” she told me.
“You mean today’s Monday already?”
“Uh-huh. You were so drugged up, you slept through Saturday and Sunday.”
I stared at the far wall, and whatever satisfaction I felt about being a hero and all that suddenly evaporated.
She said, “I went and visited with Cap’n Whitehall.”
“Really?”
“Seems somebody got him addicted to hamburgers and beer, so he was havin’ withdrawal.”
Katherine had told her about that, I figured. I could just imagine Imelda with Whitehall’s goonish keeper. She probably didn’t even have to bribe him with a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue. She probably told him that as long as he let her through with her contraband, she’d promise not to rip his ears off.
Anyway, I said, “So what’d you think?”
She sucked in her lips and seemed to chew on them a moment. “That boy’s got his mind set. He gets convicted, he’s gonna find a way to kill hisself. He had that look in his eye. That’s what I think.”
“Yeah,” I replied, since I’d already reached the same conclusion. One thing I’d learned about Whitehall was he was one of those 444 people who, if they told you they were going to do something, they’d do it. I doubted he’d even wait for an appeals process.
I said, “So what do you think his chances are?”
“I wouldn’t wanna be in his shoes. That Eddie Golden, he’s ruthless.”
“You know Fast Eddie?” I asked, surprised.
“Hadda work for him once or twice.”
“You did? You’ve never mentioned it.”
The Army has a small pool of senior legal specialists, and they rotate around depending on trial needs. It shouldn’t come as any surprise that Imelda ended up on Eddie’s team once or twice. No wonder she’d withdrawn into the corner when we questioned Jackson and Moran about whether they were beaten.
Her face got this distasteful look, which on Imelda, frankly, looked like somebody had poured acid down her throat.
“Wasn’t anything I was proud of. He don’t have scruples. Truth don’t mean nothin’ to him, just winnin’.”
“Well, he’s up against Katherine, and they don’t get any better than her. Trust me. She’s going to give Eddie a run for his money.”
Imelda didn’t respond to that.
So I said, “Did you get my substitute yet?”
“Cap’n Kip Goins. Got here yesterday mornin’. The judge arranged it.”
“Kip’s a good man. He’s also done two murder trials, so he’ll know what he’s doing.”
She didn’t respond to that, either.
I thought I knew what might be going on. Imelda and I had been together a long time. After years of trying cases together, we’d developed a special bond. But there’s more. Imelda was like a talisman to me. She was that rabbit’s foot a paratrooper kisses just before he goes out the door.
I might be kidding myself here, but maybe Imelda was thinking of me the same way.
“Look, you’ll get ’em through this. Don’t let Golden pull any fast ones on Katherine. Keep her on her toes.”
Imelda nodded, but I didn’t get the impression she felt good about this.
Then Bridges stuck his head in and said I needed to get my beauty rest. Imelda jumped off the bed and made her way slowly and reluctantly toward the door. As soon as she was gone, I pushed the buzzer beside my bed, and a nurse who looked like she could bench five hundred pounds came rushing in.
I said, “I need a phone.”
She started to argue, but I gave her a look that would sizzle steaks and reminded her I was a major in the United States Army. I told her I better see the back of her muscle-bound ass going out the door for a phone.
The second she got it hooked up, I dialed Buzz Mercer’s number. For once he actually sounded happy to hear it was me. He’d better sound happy – damned happy. I’d saved his bacon.
I said, “I need you to come over here right away.”
Well, what could he say to that? Gee, Drummond, old buddy, I know you nearly gave your life and saved the alliance and all, and you saved my career, but I’ve got some paperwork I’m behind on.
If he said anything but yes, I’d find some way to get out of that bed and go kill him.
Twenty minutes later there was a light knock, then his little butch-cutted head peeked inside.
I said, “Come in, please.”
