“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “Stone, I’ll take the sofa, you take the reclining chair.”

Chapter 41

Stone was awakened by something being set on his lap. He opened an eye and found a young, pretty nurse beaming at him.

“Good morning!” she chirped. “Coffee’s on the coffee table, of all places.”

Viv raised her head and contemplated the food. “Thank you so much. When . . .”

“You can see your husband in one hour. He’s being slowly wakened now, and his swelling is down considerably.” She turned and fled the room before there were more questions.

Stone tried the eggs.

“How is the breakfast?” Viv asked, shaking her hair.

“I recommend it,” Stone said. “The sausages are particularly good, and the orange juice is freshly squeezed.”

They dug in and finished everything. Stone poured them coffee from the pot and found two copies of the Times on the table.

POLICE COMMISSIONER ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT

the headline read, and there was nothing in the story he didn’t already know.

“I’m told there’s a shower in there,” Viv said, pointing. “I eat more slowly than you, so you go ahead.”

Stone stood under a hot stream for five minutes, dried his hair with a towel, and got back into the same clothes. “Much better,” he said to Viv as he left the bathroom. “Plenty of towels in there.”

Viv emptied her coffee mug and went for the bathroom while Stone perused the Times for further news. “No suspects, shooter dressed in black motorcycle clothes and helmet, weapon: double-barreled, sawed-off shotgun, double-ought buckshot. Police detective recovering from shoulder surgery, in good spirits, commissioner sleeping.”

Stone heard a hair dryer from the bathroom, and a moment later Viv emerged looking fresh and ten years younger.

“Amazing what a shower can do for the human spirit,” she said, picking up the Times. “Nothing here we don’t already know.”

“I’m here to tell you more,” a voice said from the door. Dr. Gordon, in civvies, stood there. “Right this way.” He led them a couple of doors down the hall and into the ICU, where Dino and his detective were the only patients. The detective was out, still. They pulled up chairs to Dino’s bed.

“How do I look?” he asked, his thick tongue mangling his speech.

“Like somebody tattooed your face on a soccer ball,” Stone replied, making Viv laugh.

“Funny, that’s exactly how I feel,” Dino said.

“The doctor said you’d be walking and talking today,” Viv said.

“I’m not ready to tap-dance, but I’ll walk to my bed this morning. What does the Times say?”

Stone told him. “Haven’t seen the tabloids yet, but they’ll be more fun, if not more enlightening.”

“It was Gene Ryan,” Dino said.

“What?”

“The ex-cop who’s been dogging you. I guess he got tired of that and decided to dog me, and he got lucky.”

“Did you see him?”