Steve Hamilton - Ice Run

“Doctor, can we talk about this later? No offense, but your voice is like a drill in my head right now.”

“Everything’s going to hurt for a few days,” he said. “Sounds, lights, you name it. Now that you’re awake, we can start some medication.”

“How long am I gonna be here?”

“At least two days,” he said. “Maybe three. Is there somebody you’d like me to contact?”

I thought about it. “Yeah,” I said. I gave him two names-Vinnie LeBlanc and Leon Prudell, along with the phone numbers. I thought about adding Natalie to the list for about a second and a half, but then I thought, no way. No way in hell.

“I’ll send the nurse in with the meds,” he said. “In the meantime, try not to move. The police should be here in a few minutes.”

“Doctor-”

“This one’s automatic,” he said. He closed the file and tucked it under his arm. “Last time, what did you tell me? You hurt yourself skiing?”

“I think I might have said sledding.”

“Yeah, well, I let it go then. I probably shouldn’t have. This time, somebody really did a number on you, Mr. McKnight. I’m not just going to send you back out there. Even if I wanted to, the law wouldn’t let me.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.” I put my head back on the pillow and immediately regretted it. Damn, it hurt to do anything. Anything at all. I looked over at the other bed in the room. It was empty. A dark television screen looked down at me from just below the ceiling. I thought about turning it on, but no, I was sure watching television would hurt, too.

My clothes. Where were they? I was wearing a paper hospital gown beneath the covers. God, I hated hospitals. Every bad thing in my life had something to do with a hospital. Watching my mother die when I was a kid, and then my father many years later. Being older didn’t make it any easier. Then when I got shot. Lying there with all those tubes stuck in me, my soon-to-be-ex wife looking down at me and then around the room, like she was thinking of escaping out the window.

And somewhere in that same hospital, on that hot summer day way back when in Detroit, in the basement, my partner Franklin was lying on a bed of cold steel, a white sheet over his head.

Yeah, I hated hospitals. The last time around, I had promised myself I would never spend one minute in a hospital again. Yet here I was.

A nurse came in and gave me some drugs. I asked her to help me up so I could use the bathroom. She told me I’d be better off with the little urinal bottle, but I disagreed with her right up until I actually tried to sit up straight. “Bring on the bottle,” I said. Even using that hurt.

A little later, Chief Maven appeared at the door, just to make the day complete. “You realize,” he said as he came in, “this is the third time I’ve seen you in a hospital bed.”

“And it never loses its magic.”

“Cut the crap, McKnight. What happened?”

“You didn’t have to come over here yourself,” I said. “You could have sent an officer.”

“No, this one I had to see for myself. What did you do this time?”

“I don’t think I did anything, Chief. I think it was all done to me, you know what I mean?”

“Who are we talking about?”

I hesitated.

“Come on,” he said. “They found you on Portage Avenue, right in front of St. Mary’s. Just a couple of hours after Simon Grant’s funeral.”

“You know how Catholic funerals are. They can get a little rough.”

He didn’t smile. “McKnight, God damn you,” he said, moving closer. “Were you listening when I told you to leave that family alone?”

“I actually was, yes.”

“Then what the hell were you doing there?”

I started to feel dizzy again. I closed my eyes and waited for it to pass. “Chief, I went to the hotel and I asked about Chris Woolsey. He was the doorman that night, the night Mr. Grant died. I had no idea that he was the man’s grandson. Then later, I stopped by his parents’ house-”

“Why did you do that?”

“I told you, I just wanted to talk to him.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Okay, and then?”

“I figured I’d just go to the funeral, to pay my respects. That’s when I found out Mrs. Woolsey was Simon Grant’s daughter.”

“Then the Grant brothers beat the living shit out of you.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I know those boys,” he said. “Believe me.”

“Yeah, well, now I know them, too.”

“Listen,” he said, “did it ever occur to you that maybe I was looking out for you when I told you to stay away?”

“No. Not really.”

“I’m serious, McKnight. I know you think I’m just a hard-ass, but for once in your life did it occur to you that I was trying to do you a favor?”

“No, Chief.”

“Look at you,” he said. “God damn it. Nobody deserves to get beaten up like you did, McKnight. Nobody.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. He was starting to sound almost human.

“Did they say anything to you? Did they give you any reason?”

“I’m trying to remember. They were saying something like… Like, how’s this, not the same as roughing up an old man, eh?”

“They said that?”

“Something like that. It’s a little fuzzy.”

He shook his head. “So the two Grant brothers and who else? Their sister’s husband, was he there, too?”

“How did you know?”

“I’m just assuming. If he was at the funeral, I’m sure he got into it.”

“So now what?”

“What do you think, McKnight? I’m going to arrest all three of them.”

“Chief-”

“We arrest people for aggravated assault, McKnight. Even if it’s you who gets assaulted.”

“I’m touched.”

“Just stop,” he said. “Okay? I’m not in the mood. I’ll bring a complaint by later so you can sign it. You might as well, because I’m charging them no matter what.”

I hesitated. Here’s where the young version of me would have protested. Hell, even the me of ten years ago. Don’t cooperate, tell him I’m not really sure who was there. Wait until I get better and then go find them myself. Get back my own way.

I didn’t know if I had gotten a little wiser, or if I was just too tired and sore. If Maven was really gonna go out and arrest them, I didn’t feel like stopping him.

“I’ll sign it.”

“Good,” he said. “Then you just get better and you go home, all right? Stay the hell away from them. In fact, you know what? Doesn’t your friend own that bar in Paradise? What’s it called?”

“The Glasgow Inn.”

“That’s the one. He’s got beer there? And good food?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re all set,” he said, putting his face close to mine. “There’s no reason to ever leave Paradise again.”

I tried to smile. But that hurt, too.

“I’m going,” he said. “Goodbye.”

“Nice talking to you.”

He paused at the doorway. “Have you seen yourself yet?”

“What?”

“You know, in a mirror. Has somebody shown you what you look like?”

“No.”

For the first time since he had come in, he smiled. “Just wait a couple of days,” he said. “You’ll be able to sell tickets.”

The next forty-eight hours passed like slow death. Leon stopped in to see me. Then Vinnie. Leon was happy to hear that Chief Maven was on his way to arrest the three men. Vinnie wanted to cut out the middleman and just go find them himself. I told him to back off for now. When the time came, I’d let him know.

I tried to watch television, but that made my eyes hurt. I couldn’t read anything at all. I sure as hell couldn’t sleep. They brought me drugs every four hours and I’d sit there for a moment looking at the pills. I had my own reasons for thinking twice about taking them. But those reasons weren’t enough to stop me.