Weather said, ''I've got to sit down,'' and she dropped in the chair on the other side of the desk. ''Look, you're either going to have to shoot me or listen to me, and I think you better listen: My friend Davenport will get here in a few minutes, and if you kill me, he'll kill you. You can forget all about rules and regulations and laws; he'll kill you.''
''Like he killed my old lady and my sister.''
She bobbed her head. ''Yes. He set that up. I talked to him about it, because I couldn't believe he did it. It's caused us some trouble. But when he thinks he's right, he won't turn. And if you kill me…'' She shrugged. ''That's the end for both of us. You won't walk out of here.''
''I ain't walking out anyway.''
Now he looked at her, and she saw that she was still wearing one glove, and she pulled it off slowly, watching his eyes.
''There's no death penalty either in Wisconsin or Minnesota. You escaped once.
You might have to wait for a while, but there's always the chance that you could be free again. One way or another.''
''Bullshit, they're gonna kill me.''
''No, they won't. Not if you wait a while. They have all kinds of rules. And once you're on television, they won't be able to take you off and shoot you somewhere. Once you're in the system, you'll be safe. My husband, my friend.. .''
''Is he your husband or your friend?''
''We're planning to get married in a couple of months. We live together… If you make a deal with him, he won't kill you. But if you shoot me, you can make any kind of deal you want-you can make a deal with the President-and he'll kill you anyway.''
He grinned, and said, ''Yeah, tough guy,'' but he was thinking. He thought about
Martin, probably dead already, going cold in the snow somewhere, and he said,
''They'd stick me in the Black Hole of Calcutta.''
''Probably, for a while,'' she agreed. ''Then something bigger and dirtier would come along, and they'll start to forget about you, and they'll give you a little air. Then you'll have a chance. If you die now… that's it. No court, no TV time, no interviews, no nothing.''
''Well, fuck that,'' LaChaise said. ''Let's see what your old man says.''
Weather took a breath: it was a start. ''You're bleeding,'' she said. ''We could get a first-aid kit.''
TWENTY-NINE
THE DRIVER OF THE SQUAD HAD HIS FOOT TO THE floor, his partner, braced for impact, screaming, ''Slow it down, slow it down,'' and they skidded through the first corner and nearly off the street, then they were on Washington headed toward University Hospitals.
Dispatch came back: ''We don't know what the situation is, but she's still alive. He's got her on the third floor, in surgery. Wait a minute, wait a minute, he's calling in on 911, he wants to talk to you…''
Lucas shouted, ''No. I don't want to talk. He wants me to hear him shoot her.
Tell him you're trying to get in touch.''
''Got that.''
He sat clutching the handset, the street reeling by. Then Dispatch again: ''You asked for a number at U.S. West.''
''Yeah, yeah.'' He'd almost forgotten, but he took the cellular phone from his pocket and punched the number in as the dispatcher read it.
The phone was answered instantly: ''Johnson.''
''This is Lucas Davenport. I was supposed to call here tofind out what numbers this phone has been calling.''
''Yeah. We've got the number now, we're reading it now, we'll check the billings and get back to you. You can hang up.''
''Get it quick,'' Lucas said. ''Soon as you can.''
''It'll take a few minutes.''
''Whatever. Call me back at the number,'' Lucas said, and he hung up, got on the handset, and said, ''What's happening?'' and the cop in the passenger seat lifted his hands to ward off an oncoming car, but the driver slipped it to the left and then hooked down a ramp and they were on the bridge.
Dispatch: ''He's still in the operating room. Another doctor's going in and out.
We've got two cars there, we've got an ERU team a minute away. Listen, the chief wants to talk…''
Lucas said, ''You're breaking up… I'll get back.''
He turned the handset off and said, ''Stay off the radio, guys.''
''Why?'' asked the white-faced cop in the passenger seat.
''Because Roux wants to take me off this, and I can't do that.''
THEY FLASHED UP THE HILL ON THE FAR SIDE OF THE river, made the turn and slewed down Harvard toward the hospital's front entrance. As they braked to a stop,
Lucas said, ''Pop the door,'' and they popped it, and he climbed out with the cops and said to the driver, ''I owe you big time,'' and they all ran into the building.
A half-dozen security guards were in the lobby, and Lucas held up his ID and said, ''What's the deal?''
''They're out of the operating room. They're in an office.''
''Any cops up there?''
''Yeah, but they can't see down through the doors.''
''Let's go up,'' Lucas said. He'd observed at several ofWeather's operations, trying to learn a little about her life. He knew the operating suite, and most of the adjoining offices and locker rooms. They rode up in the elevator, and when they got off, were met by two uniforms, who saw Lucas and looked relieved.
''He's down there, Chief. He's got her in a back office, and he's asking for you,'' one of the cops said.
''You got a phone line into him?''
''Yeah, but he says don't call unless it's you.''
''All right.'' He turned to the security guard. ''I need an exact floor plan, and all the nurses and doctors who work inside.''
''You gonna call?'' one of the cops asked.
''Not yet,'' Lucas said. ''And I don't want anyone to tip him off that I'm here.
We gotta figure something out.''
WEATHER WAS FIGHTING LACHAISE. SHE'D COME OUT from behind the desk, rolling out of the office chair, and she said, ''I hope everything goes okay for Betty. I wish you'd come a half hour later.''
LaChaise was standing, holding the door open just a crack, peering down the long hall to the double doors. Davenport, when he arrived, should be coming around the corner just in front of the doors, a thirty- or forty-foot shot. But he was half listening to Weather, and he said, ''Yeah?''
''She's a farm kid,'' Weather said. ''If she loses that thumb, she'll have a tough time of it. I don't know how you work around a farm without a right thumb.
I know I couldn't.''
''What do you know about farms?'' LaChaise snapped, looking at her now.
''I grew up in northern Wisconsin-I'm a country kid,'' Weather said. She didn't say, like your wife and sister. ''Other doctors start out dissecting frogs or something; I started outtaking Johnson twenty-fives apart, and putting them back together again.''
''I had a Johnson twenty-five once,'' LaChaise said. ''Hell, I guess everybody did, who had a boat up north.''
''Just about,'' she agreed. ''My old man…''
She went on for a bit, talking about her family. She got LaChaise to talk about
Colfax and the UP, and she told him about ski trips to the UP, and it turned out that they both knew some of the same bars in Hurley. ''From Hayward to Hurley to
Hell,'' she said.
He laughed abruptly, winced and said, ''Ain't that the truth.''
''Are you hurt bad?'' she asked.
''I got some shit in my legs… cop at the other hospital got me with a shotgun.''
''Want me to look?''
''No.''
She was about to push him on it, when the phone rang. ''That's him,'' LaChaise said. His eyes flicked over to her.
Not yet, she thought. Please, not yet. She had him going…
LUCAS MUTTERED TO THE COP, ''REMEMBER ABOUT Martin…''
''Yeah, yeah.''
He dialed and LaChaise picked it up.
''Chief Davenport is on the way. He was in the ambulance with your friend, the