Spenser - 26 - Hush Money by Robert B. Parker

Author:Robert B. Parker
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780425174012
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2000-04-01T07:47:24+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The call came from KC Roth just after I had settled in to watch the Sox and the Angels from the West Coast.

“Come quickly,” she said. “Please. I need you.”

She sounded teary.

“What’s your problem?”

“Louis.”

“What about Louis?”

“He came back.”

“Really?”

“Oh, please, come quickly. Please.”

“Why?”

“He, he… please come.”

“What did he do?”

“He… violated me.”

“Do you mean he raped you?”

She was silent.

“Did he rape you?” I said.

“Yes.”

“Have you called the police?”

“Oh, God no, I can’t talk about this with the police. I, please, I have to see you, you’re the only one.”

“When did this happen,” I said.

“Just now. He just left.”

“He’s gone.”

“Yes. He beat me and he violated me.”

“Have you been to the doctor?”

“No. I told you. I can’t…”

“Don’t take a shower,” I said. “Don’t bathe or wash yourself. Stay still. I’ll be there in half an hour. Will you be all right until then?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. When I get there I’m going to take you to the doctor.”

“No.”

“Unless you agree to that I won’t come.”

“I… I can’t…” She was crying.

“You’ll have to promise. Otherwise I’ll hang up and call the Reading cops and it’ll be you and them.”

“No… oh why are you so awful?”

“Promise?”

She was silent, sobbing. I waited.

“Oh yes, goddamn you,” she said and hung up.

I got dressed and drove up to Reading. She was hugging herself looking out the door waiting for me. Until I saw her I thought she might be making it up. Now I was pretty sure she wasn’t. Someone had slapped her around pretty good. Her upper lip was swollen and one eye was puffed. It would be shut by morning. She had on a white tee shirt and gray sweatpants and moccasins. Her hair was a mess.

“Oh God,” she said, and backed away as I came in.

“Come on,” I said. “Hospital.”

“You’re really going to make me?”

“You bet,” I said.

I took her arm. She flinched away for a moment. But I kept hold and she relaxed enough to go with me.

The on-call gyno who showed up at the emergency room was a young woman with red hair and a good backside who whisked into the examining room, took one look at KC, and whisked me out with one brisk all-inclusive gesture. I sat in the waiting area and looked at people with bruises and cuts and breathing problems and stomach pains as they came and went. I read several ancient copies of People magazine, which left me feeling like I’d eaten too much fudge.

After about an hour, the gyno came out and said, “Mr. Spenser?”

“Me,” I said.

“Come in please.”

I went in. KC was in a johnny and those silly slippers that they give you. Her hair had been combed and her face washed and she seemed a little foggy. A large black woman in a nurse suit hovered around and looked at me disapprovingly.

“I’m Dr. Tripp,” the red-haired woman said. “Mrs. Roth says I may speak freely with you. What is your relationship to her?”

“Employee,” I said.

“In what capacity?”

“I’m a detective. She hired me to prevent this from happening to her.

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