There was a tiny elevator, an afterthought that obviously hadn’t been there originally, and Parker and the doctor crowded into it and went up to the second floor. Handy’s room was at the end of the hall. The doctor stayed just long enough to make sure that Handy actually did recognize Parker and had no objection to his being there, and then he withdrew, closing the door.
Handy looked pale, but he was conscious and grinning. “How are things?”
“Taken care of. Everything. I had to make a fifty per cent cut with Kapor, but the rest is safe.”
“Good.”
“You’re going to Presque Isle, Maine?”
“You guessed it. The worst that’s gonna happen to me from now on is grease burns.”
Parker nodded. He dragged a chair over near the bed and sat down. “How much longer?”
“They say I can get up and start walking in a week or so. Then I’m supposed to stay here another two or three weeks after that but I don’t think I will. The story the nurses have is I’m some clown who shot himself by accident, and since I wasn’t supposed to have a gun, no permit or something, that’s why I’m here instead of a hospital. Not breaking the law all the way, just bending it a little.”
“I’m going down to Galveston for a while. When you’re ready to pull out of here, give me a call. I’ll send you your share. You’ve got to pay for this place yourself.”
“I know, they told me. I’ll still have enough left over for what I want.”
“You know the place I stay in Galveston?”
“Sure.”
“O.K.” Parker got to his feet. “Give me a call, huh?”
“You bet.”
Parker went to the door. He was reaching for the knob when Handy called out to him.
He turned.
“What about Kapor?”
“He’s clearing out tonight. He’s free and clear, I guess.”
“No trouble from him?”
“No. He got half back, and that’s all he cared about.”
“What did he say about the mourner?”
Parker thought for a second, and then he laughed. “He didn’t even know,” he said. “He never even noticed it was gone.”