“Great.”
“Now, about the releases … ”
“Yeah. Okay. Anything for science and progress and all that.”
While I was signing the papers and wondering about the angle of the bullet, I asked him, “What were the circumstances involved in my being brought here?”
“You were brought to the emergency room by the police,” he said. “They did not inform us as to the nature of the, uh, situation that led to the shootings.”
“Shootings? How many of us were there?”
“Well, seven altogether. I am not really supposed to discuss other cases, you know.”
I paused in mid-signature.
“Hal Sidmore is my best friend,” I said, raising the pen and glancing significantly at the forms, “and his wife’s name is Mary.”
“They were not seriously injured,” he said quickly. “Mister Sidmore has a broken arm and his wife has a few scratches. That is the extent of it. In fact, he has been waiting to see you.”
“I want to see him,” I said. “I feel up to it.”
“I’ll send him in shortly.”
“Very good.”
I finished signing and returned his pen and papers.
“Could I be raised a bit?” I asked.
“I don’t see why not.”
He adjusted the bed.
“And if I could trouble you for a glass of water … ”
He poured me one, waited while I drank most of it.
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll be in to see you later. Would you mind if I brought some interns along to listen to your heart?”
“Not if you promise to send me a copy of your article.”
“All right,” he said, “I will. Don’t do anything strenuous.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He folded his smile and went away and I lay there grimacing at the gnikomS oN sign.
It wasn’t too much later, I guess, that Hal wandered in. Another layer of dopiness and confusion had peeled away by then. He was dressed in his street clothes, and his right arm-wait a minute, pardon me-left arm was in a sling. He also had a small bruise on his forehead.
I grinned, to show him that life was beautiful, and since I already knew the answer was all right, I asked, “How’s Mary?”
“Great,” he said. “Real good. Shook up and scratched, but nothing serious. How about yourself?”
“Feels like a jackass kicked me in the chest,” I said. “But the doctor tells me it could have been worse.”
“Yes, he said you were very lucky. He’s in love with your heart, by the way. If it were mine. I’d be a little uncomfortable-all helpless like that, with him writing the prescriptions … ”
“Thanks. I’m sure glad you came by to cheer me up. Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to buy a paper?”
“I didn’t realize you were in a hurry,” he said. “I’ll be brief, then. We were all shot.”
“I see. Now be less brief.”
“All right. You jumped at the man with the gun-“
“Jamie. Yes. Go on.”
“He shot you. You fell. Put a check mark next to your name. Then he shot Paul.”
“Check.”
“But, while Jamie was turned toward you, Paul had gotten partly clear of the junk that had fallen on him. He fired at Jamie at about the same time Jamie fired at him. He hit Jamie.”
“So they shot each other. Check.”
“I went for the other guy just a little after you lunged at Jamie.”
“Zeemeister. Yes.”
“He had his gun by then and got off several shots. The first one missed me. Then we wrestled around. He’s damn strong, by the way.”
“I know that. Who do I check next?”
“I am not certain. Mary had her scalp grazed by a shot or a ricochet, and his second or third shot-I’m not sure which-got me in the arm.”
“Two checks, either way. Who shot Zeemeister?”
“A cop. They came busting in about then.”
“Why were they there? How did they know what wa» going on?”
“I overheard them talking afterwards. They had been following Paul-“
“-who had been following us, perhaps?”
“It seems so.”
“But I thought he was dead. It made the news.”
“That makes two of us. I still don’t know the story. His room is guarded and no one is talking.”