Reeder said nothing. He was breathing quickly and deeply, each breath sounding like the labored working of a bellows.
“What was it, Phil? I’m your buddy, your shipmate. Remember?”
“Just this,” Reeder said.
“Just what?”
“This,” Reeder said. “I took my clothes off like this.”
Barnes stared at him, and as he stared, Reeder hit him, his right fist coming up from beneath Barnes’s chin to snap his head back. Barnes’s shoulders hit the mattresses as he fell, and his glass eye rolled across the dark floor like a lopsided marble.
Two Noids
“Wait a minute,” Stubb said. “Did you hear that?”
Sandy asked, “Hear what?”
Davidson said, “I didn’t hear anything, but I sure as hell
The attendant looked at him and shook his head.
“Don’t argue with a cop, son. I saw a little boy, maybe six or seven years old. What’s your name?”
“Ron.”
“Ron what?”
“Ron Brown, sir.”
“Well, Ron, you’ve got a kid running around your ward.” Davidson turned to Stubb and Sandy. “You two march yourselves downstairs and out of this place. You’re lucky I’m not running you in.
“Then you, Ronny, you’re going to go find that kid I saw and bring him to me. And if you don’t, I’m coming back with a search warrant and a few good men. Understand?”
“I want to see the guy that called my name,” Stubb told him.
“The damned in hell want snow-cones. You get out of here, and get out fast. Take her with you.”
Sandy looked at Stubb. “I don’t think we’ve got much choice.”
He shrugged and followed her back to the elevator. A few of the quiet men on the benches lifted their eyes to look at them, but none stood or spoke.
Sandy whispered, “I always thought crazy people laughed and jumped around a lot.”
Stubb shrugged again. The elevator doors parted, and they stepped inside.
“Who was it who called you?”
“I’m not sure,” Stubb said. “I’m not even sure I heard my name.”
The doors shuddered closed.
“Are we really going to leave?”
“Of course not,” Stubb told her.
She smiled at him. “You’re kind of neat, Jim—you know that?”
“I’m just doing the job. You remember the doctor’s name? The one treating Proudy?”
“Did somebody tell us? No, I don’t think so.”
“The woman down at the desk told Davidson. Dr. Roberts. So while Davidson’s talking to Proudy, maybe we can find Dr. Roberts and get him to let us see him later. Davidson won’t spring Proudy out of here after he’s heard him.”
“I’m Bud Bensen,” the tall, thin doctor told them. “I’m pleased to meet you, Ms. Duck, Mr. Stubb. What can I do for you?”
“Dr. Roberts isn’t here?” Stubb asked.
“I’m afraid not. He should be, but he seems to have wandered off somewhere. Bob’s a brilliant young man,” Bensen’s boney face broke into the briefest of smiles, “but somewhat emotional. Nervous, you know. We had some unauthorized people going though the wards this afternoon, and I’m afraid Bob was upset.”
“The Gypsies,” Sandy put in.
“Yes, that, as I understand it, was what they called themselves. I didn’t talk to them personally, but I’ve been told their king—that was the word they used, king—had ordered them to search the city for somebody, and indicated this might be a likely place to find him.”
Stubb asked, “I don’t suppose you recall the name of the guy they were looking for?”
Dr. Bensen shook his head. “I don’t believe it was ever mentioned. Is it important?”
“It might be. Anyway, it seems to me like this Gypsy king might have something on the ball. You wouldn’t have a Ben Free in here, would you?”
