“Last night, Carrie left the house and went to your house, walked right past me, and I didn’t have time to stop her before she got in the cab. I got the next one and followed her.”
“Well, I didn’t shoot her. How badly is she hurt?”
“I know you didn’t shoot her. I got her into my cab after she came out of the house, half naked, and took her home. She was running up her front steps when I heard the shot and saw the guy running away. I didn’t even have time to get off a round.”
“Willie, tell me: How badly is she hurt?”
“Flesh wound at the top of the shoulder. Went in and out, bled a lot. I got her here as fast as I could.”
“Why didn’t you call me then?” Stone asked. He thought he must have been banging Mitzi or vice versa when this happened.
“Tell you the truth, I was a little shaken up,” Willie said, “and I was covered in blood. Peter brought me a shirt, and after I got cleaned up in the men’s room, I called Bob.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Stone asked, while grateful that he hadn’t.
“Because I work for Bob, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
A young doctor in blue scrubs came out a door, looked around, and beckoned Willie. Stone followed.
Carrie was lying on an ER bed that had been cranked to a sitting position, her left arm in a sling. “You two,” she said, pointing at Willie and Stone. “Get me out of here.”
53
CARRIE SAT, SEETHING, between Stone and Willie Leahy in the back of the cab.
“Carrie,” Stone said, “I…”
“I’m not speaking to you,” she said.
“Now wait a minute…”
“And I’m not listening, either.”
Willie wisely kept his mouth shut.
“Willie,” Stone said, “did you get a look at him?”
“At his back,” Willie said. “Tall, slim, black raincoat.”
“It was Max,” Carrie said.
“Did you see him?”
“I didn’t need to see him,” she replied. “It was Max.”
“Carrie, during rehearsals has anyone shown any animosity toward you?” Stone asked.
“Everyone,” she replied.
“Beg pardon?”
“I’m the star; nobody likes the star.”
“And you’ve been behaving like the star?”
“It’s my right.”