“Flying over a dark blue car,” he replied. “That’s it. I left a law firm’s office, and I was flying over a dark blue car. Over and over.”
“Just once, I think. You feel up to talking to the police?”
Stone lifted the sheet and examined himself. “Two questions first: One, am I hurt? Two, why am I naked? Have you had your way with me?”
“That’s three questions. You have a hairline fracture of the left wrist, which will require a temporary cast for a week, and a bad bruise on your left leg, probably from the bumper of the car, but no fracture. You were very lucky. You are naked, because I and others removed your clothing. It’s a nice suit; you’re lucky we didn’t have to cut it off. And I haven’t had my way with you-not yet, anyway.”
“Well, that’s disappointing. Okay, I’ll talk to the police.”
Dino appeared at his side. “Anything to meet a pretty doctor,” he said.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Who cares?”
Joan appeared on the other side of the bed. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“That’s it, make it about you. And I’m lying here, injured.”
She laughed. “Don’t start faking; we’ve already talked to the doctor.”
Stone looked at the pretty girl. “You’re a doctor?”
“I am. You want to see my license to practice?”
“Later, maybe. You told these people everything before you told me?”
She strapped a blue plastic cast to his left wrist and secured it with Velcro straps. “You were unconscious at the time. Oh, did I mention the bruise on your head, under your hair, and the concussion?”
Stone grinned at Joan. “See, I told you I was injured.”
“Tell me what you remember,” Dino said.
“I saw a dark blue car, from above, as I was flying through the air. Or maybe that was a dream.”
“What kind of car?”
“I’m not good at identifying automobiles from above.”
“Well, you’re right. A guy abandoned a dark blue Ford Taurus a block and a half from where you were hit, then he ran like hell. It’s being processed.”
“Anybody get a description of the guy?”
“Young, old; tall, short; fat, skinny.”
“The usual eyewitness testimony.”
“Right. I suppose there are forty or fifty people who would like to run you down with a car, but can you think of anybody in particular?”
“Let’s see: Carmine Dattila, Bernie Finger, Bernie Finger’s girlfriend, who should feel grateful to me, anybody who works for Carmine Dattila.”
“That’s a start. Anybody else?”
“Yeah, a guy named Devlin…I can’t think of his last name; must be the concussion. He’s Celia’s former boyfriend, and she told me to watch out for him.”
“She should have told you to look both ways before crossing the street.”
“Daltry. Devlin Daltry. Lives downtown somewhere. Call Celia at my Connecticut house, she’ll give you the address. Tell your guys to beat him with rubber hoses when they question him.”