It was Harry who cried out in hoa.r.s.e amazement as a gout of blood erupted from his white shirt. Stumbling back, he slipped and fell.
Ca.s.sandra screamed. "Max!"
She pounded on the door as Max watched Harry.
Harry was slouched on the floor, staring down at his shirtfront. He might well have been dead, he was so com- pletely motionless.
He lived, however. Stunned and breathless, in a state of shock.
But quite alive.
"The pistol ball was hollow," Max informed him. "Wax.
Rubbed with graphite."
He raised his left hand, thumb elevated. "Filled with blood from this very thumb," he said.
His smile was mirthless, cold. "The other pistol ball was
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real," he said, "to throw you off. Misdirection, don"t you know. My business."
And he winked at me.
I did not return it. I would not have done so even if I could. Sonny, I was thinking with exasperation. My heart is not constructed of steel, you know.
"I hope I didn"t frighten you again," he said as though reading my thought.
Harry had not spoken a word. Now he was staring at Max uncomprehendingly. I think that, had his heart been at risk as well, what Max had just done to him might have fin- ished him off.
m uie meantime, Ca.s.sandra continued to pound on the door and scream Max"s name.
Finally/ she added, "Open the door!"
Max moved to the desk and tossed the empty pistol on its top- Then, reaching underneath, he pushed the hidden but- ton.
The locking mechanism clicked, the k.n.o.b was quickly turned, the door flung open, and Ca.s.sandra rushed in.
"What the h.e.l.l is-" she began.
She stopped, aghast, catching sight of Harry on the floor, his shirtfront drenched with blood.
"Oh, my G.o.d," she murmured shakily, and ran to him.
Kneeling beside him, she looked at his chest, shuddering at the sight. "My G.o.d/" she said.
"All right," Harry muttered, scarcely able to speak. "I"m all right."
"All right?" She stared at him incredulously. "How-"
"Scotch," said Harry, interrupting.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Scotch, some Scotch!" he ordered in a rasping voice.
"Yes." She struggled to her feet and hurried toward the bar, glancing apprehensively at Max, who was sitting on the edge of the desk now, quietly observing-as I was,
Now You See It... 89
though my quiet was the consequence of a stroke. G.o.d only knew what lay behind my son"s calmness.
Harry was looking down at his shirt again.
"Jesus Christ," he muttered. With a palsied hand, he tugged a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbed weakly at his shirt.
"What is this?" Ca.s.sandra demanded of Max.
It was as though she hadn"t spoken. Max kicked one foot casually as he sat there. V/hat is in his mind? I thought.
Ca.s.sandra finished pouring Scotch into a gla.s.s and turned from the bar. Returning to Harry, she knelt beside him. Harry took the gla.s.s and swallowed half its contents in a single gulp- He started to cough, eyes watering, and drew in wheez- ing breaths. Then he downed the rest of the Scotch, shud- dering convulsively.
"Can you get up?" Ca.s.sandra asked.
He nodded, a feeble stirring of his head. Setting down the gla.s.s, he tried to push up, thudding down as his arms gave way.
Grimacing, he rolled to me right and struggled to his knees. "G.o.d d.a.m.n," he muttered.
Ca.s.sandra helped him to his feet. He stood unevenly, ex- pression almost blank.
"What?" he muttered.
Abruptly, his legs lost strength and he tell to one knee, pulling loose from Ca.s.sandra"s grip. He twitched, looking startled as he wavered to his left.
"What is it?" asked Ca.s.sandra.
"I don"t. - ." His voice faded as he lost all balance and toppled to one side, crying out in pain as his left elbow banged on the hardwood floor, bearing the brunt of his weight.
He collapsed onto his back, clutching at his elbow, look- ing dazed.
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"What"s happening?" Ca.s.sandra cried.
She knelt beside him hurriedly and tried to help him up.
She couldn"t; he had virtually no muscle control remain- ing. And, newly shocked, I knew exactly what had hap- pened.
Ca.s.sandra sensed it too, because she looked accusingly at Max.