Thomas Stoner’s head lay on the pillow, as inert as marble. Tubes were in his nostrils, needles were in his arm. His hospital gown was open at the neck and curly gray hairs sprouted from his chest. His head hair was silver and thin, very damp with sweat. His eyes were sunken, his thick lips almost bloodless. Decker was on the right side of the bed, Benderhoff was on the left. They sat very close to the man, gave him a minute to adjust to their presence. At last, Stoner gave them the go-ahead by nodding.

Benderhoff took out half a dozen photographs, including pictures of Noam and Hersh. “I’m gonna show you some faces one by one, Mr. Stoner. Nod if you see someone familiar.”

The first two snapshots produced no response. The third was a picture of Noam. That was also met with a blank stare. When Benderhoff showed Stoner Hersh’s high school picture, the man’s eyes widened several diameters.

“That’s him,” Stoner said.

“You’re sure?” Benderhoff said.

“Positive,” Stoner whispered. “Motherfucker.” He coughed from the exertion, deep grunts that almost blew out his nasal tubes. Then he quieted, lay very still.

Benderhoff and Decker exchanged looks.

Decker said, “You said two men jumped you?”

“Yes,” Stoner said.

“You can nod if it’s easier,” Decker said. “Okay, two men jumped you.” He pointed to Hersh’s picture. “One of them was this man?”

Stoner nodded. “The other…masked.”

Decker paused for a moment, addressed the comment to Benderhoff. “Funny, one was masked, the other wasn’t. Doesn’t at all sound like a typical mugging.”

Stoner’s eyes widened again.

“Mr. Stoner,” Decker said. “These guys are going to mug someone else. You were very lucky. Their next victim might not fare as well. I need to know exactly what happened, so I can find out how these two operate. Do you know what I’m driving at?”

Stoner’s eyes closed.

Decker said, “We sent your wife out so we could all be honest.”

Benderhoff said, “There’s no need for anything you say to be repeated outside this room.”

Stoner didn’t respond verbally, but tears rolled from his closed eyes.

“Mr. Stoner?” Benderhoff said.

“Go…on,” Stoner said. “I know…you know. But my wife…married thirty-two years. She…can’t find…out.”

“I understand,” Benderhoff said.

“Go ahead,” Stoner said.

“I’ll make this as quick as possible,” Decker said. “The clubs you go to…they’re very exclusive. How did this man get in?”

“My guest,” Stoner whispered.

“You knew him from before?” Benderhoff said.

Stoner shook his head. “He…was waiting…outside.”

“You brought him in,” Decker said. “He must have been dressed nicely.”