They screeched to a halt at the emergency entrance to Lenox Hill, and Stone limped into the building after Dino.

“You’ve got a woman named Nijinsky here,” Dino said to the woman behind the desk, flashing his badge. “We need to see her now.”

“I didn’t get her name, but she’s in room number one, first door on your right. Dr. Holmes is with her.”

Dino led the way.

“I’d never have guessed her name was Nijinsky,” the woman said after them.

They found the room and a resident taping a bandage to a woman’s forehead. The woman was black.

“Dr. Holmes?” Stone said.

The young man turned.

“Yes?”

Stone limped into the room. “You’ve got another patient, a woman, here.”

“Nope, this is it,” Holmes said. “An uncommonly slow night.”

“You’re sure?” Stone asked, puzzled.

The doctor nodded at the black woman. “The only customer we’ve had for two hours,” he replied. He watched Stone shift his weight and wince. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I just banged my knee; no problem.”

“Let’s have a look.”

“Yeah,” said Dino, “let’s have a look.”

Stone pulled up his trouser leg.

Dino whistled. “Oh, that looks great, Stone.”

“Tell me about it,” the doctor said.

Stone gave him an abbreviated history.

The doctor went to a refrigerator, came back with a flat ice pack, and fastened it to Stone’s knee with an Ace bandage. Then he retrieved a small box of pills from a shelf. “Keep the ice on until you can’t stand it anymore, and take one of these pills now and every four hours after that. See your doctor in the morning.”

“What are the pills?” Stone asked.

“A nonsteroid, antiinflammatory agent. If you haven’t completely undone your surgery, the knee will feel better in the morning.”

Stone thanked him, and they left.

“What now?” Dino asked as they turned onto Lexington Avenue.

Stone was about to answer when they saw the flashing lights. At Seventy-fifth and Lexington there was a god-awful mess, lit by half a dozen flashing lights. “Pull over, Dino,” he said.

Dino pulled over. Stone got out and approached a uniformed officer. He pointed at a mass of twisted metal. “Was that smoking ruin once an ambulance?” he asked the cop.

“Yeah, and what used to be a fire truck hit it broadside.” He pointed at the truck, which was only moderately bent.

“What about the occupants?”

“On their way to Bellevue,” the cop said. “Seven from the fire truck, two or three from the ambulance.”

“Anybody left alive?”

“I just got here; you’ll have to check Bellevue.”

Stone thanked him and got back into the car.

“Is that the same ambulance?” Dino asked.

“It’s the same service.” Stone stuck a flashing light on the dashboard. “Stand on it, Fittipaldi.”

Fangio stood on it.

*  *  *