Carleton's thoughts about Karen ended with the appearance of Cocoa, his nurse. She showed a toothy smile and asked him to just relax for a moment while she removed his tubes. He obliged and waited nervously as the cooing nurse swished the curtain around to conceal the undertaking.

There was a loud gagging sound, several curses and more loud placating cooing by the nurse, then the curtain swished back and she smiled goodbye, wheeling out her cart of used plumbing.

"Oh god, that was awful. Don't ever let them shove one of those up your nose." He called to the old man in the adjacent bed, more to exorcize his own suffering than warn a fellow patient. He swished a blue liquid around in his mouth and spit it back into the paper cup, setting on the tray and picking up the hand mirror. Carleton gave a critical check to his moustache, meticulously stroking it back into shape.

Julie swept into the room Carleton shared, scanned the other occupants then quickly closed the curtain about Carleton's bed, keeping her sling out of the way and easing the bed rail aside, bestowed a lingering kiss on his forehead. He handed her the mirror to put back.

"At least your vanity wasn't injured." Julie said, leaning against the bed again.

"A man has to protect certain things that are important." An errant hand alit on her hip, plumping gently.

"I had to wait until I was sure Reg was gone, and then there were a few things I had to do. I had a visit from another one of them at the house. He pretended he was looking for Jarmon Wyatt too."

"Another one? Who? What did you tell him?"

"A younger one, not so creepy. I told him same as I told that monster on the phone; Jarmon Wyatt had a suite at the Dunbar Hotel."

Carleton's eyes glazed over as he beheld the impossibly, naively vacant face of his mistress. "The Dunbar..." The words leaked out slowly.

"Yes, didn't you know?" She squeezed his arm reassuringly. Carleton thought about how many others knew about the Dunbar's occupants, envisioning an all out assault by irate stakeholders, and he began an evacuation plan in the back of his mind. His concern was interrupted by Julie's hand on his arm.

"What should we do?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. Depends, I guess, on what happens when they find Jarmon." There was no way he was going to stay involved in this mess, Carleton promised himself. If Julie were going to be a risk to be around, well he'd just have to cut her loose.

He reached across and took her uninjured arm, pulling her closer. "We have to be very careful, Julie. We have to stay out of the line of fire between Reg, his gangster friends, Lawrence, and Jarmon Wyatt. You go home and just act innocent. Don't antagonize him in any way."

"I'll come back tomorrow." A little disappointed in his reception of her visit, he gave him a peck on the cheek and left.

●○●○●○●○●

Lawrence was in a panic. Not only had his daughter called his bluff, he couldn't locate Devers to find out what he was up to, and Karen, not surprisingly, wouldn't take his calls. Something was happening that he knew nothing about and that was just not on. Carleton had been a dismal loss. His daughter was too confident by half and the time was rapidly running out.

Karen and the coat check girl had mentioned a private investigator at one point—a Christopher Wallace. If he could track him down, he might just find out what was going on. Biting his lip, he jabbed his intercom and announced that he would be out of the office for the rest of the day, cutting off any queries from his secretary.

It was time to take the bloody bull by the horns, Lawrence pumped himself as he jumped into his car and sped out of the garage. He would begin his combat from his home office and woe to those who tried to stall his advance.

●○●○●○●○●

My day ended once again without success. I was beginning to think that Jarmon Wyatt was a myth even though I had spoken to him. I had tried getting up to his suite at the Dunbar and had managed to reach the right floor by elevator only to be promptly escorted from the premises by hotel security. This just never happens to the movie dicks.

The car behaved itself and with an evening in Nora's company to look forward to, I quit for the day and drove home. The answering machine message said she would meet me at the restaurant at the prescribed time. I kicked my heels and changed into nicer togs for our date.

After having touted the fact that my wife was to be joining me for the house speciality, the restaurant owner advised me that Nora had called and left a later message that she was required at a last second, late night meeting with one of her largest clients. She added that she was sorry. Our special fish dinner together was a disaster, and after poking my lone serving around on the plate with little interest, I humbly paid my bill and slunk out. Slinking is not something I do well.

At home, another thought struck me - I only had three days left.

●○●○●○●○●

Bernie leaned on his desk with his head in his hands listening to Jorge go on about a possible partnership in Jarmon Wyatt's father-in-law's company, wondering at what point in his career did he begin to side with the quality of people he had to work with today.

"My advice would be to consider this, boss. You imagine what kind of clout you could have with the politicians?"

Bernie peered up between his fingers. "And can you imagine how well a convicted criminal would be received as a representative to those same politicians?"

Jorge just stared. "So you're not interested then?"

"What I'm interested in, Jorge, is getting the money that's owed to me. Not interest from a trust. Not a partnership in a company. Just what's owed to me. Understand?"

"You say so, boss. So, what do you want me to do?"

Bernie's mouth dropped and he tried very hard to see if there was a light on behind Jorge's eyes. "Nothing, Jorge. Take a vacation. No, better still, just go home and wait for my call."

He sank back and concentrated on the ceiling while he decided what approach to take. Getting the money from Devers was just not on. The slob would never have it. He would have to be dealt with another way... later. The guy Devers was going to get from was no better, as Jorge had reported. It seemed that if any money was coming from that direction it would be from the wife; she had money now and also the most to lose, apparently.

Bernie made a couple of calls and then sat doodling patterns around Cynthia Wyatt's phone number.