The Destroyer - 37 - The Destroyer 037 - Bottom Line by Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir

Author:Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir [Murphy, Warren & Sapir, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Pulp Action
Publisher: PINNACLE BOOKS
Published: 2010-03-19T14:51:21+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

In the pri­vate East Side clin­ic to which Ran­dall Lip­pin­cott had been tak­en, his doc­tor pat­ted the man gen­tly on the arm. Lip­pin­cott was ly­ing in a bed, Ms arms locked down by re­straint cuffs.

“How’s my lit­tle naked dis­co dancer?” the doc­tor asked.

Lip­pin­cott was calm now and he looked up hope­ful­ly at his doc­tor who said, “Don’t wor­ry about a thing, Ran­dall. Ev­ery­thing’s go­ing to be all right.”

The doc­tor searched through a med­ical bag for a few mo­ments, with­draw­ing a sy­ringe and a vial of yel­low liq­uid. The sy­ringe was quick­ly filled and the doc­tor in­sert­ed it in­to the vein in­side Lip­pin­cott’s left el­bow.

He winced at the small pinch of pain. The doc­tor with­drew the nee­dle, and even though it was a dis­pos­able sy­ringe, dropped it back in­to the med­ical bag.

The doc­tor pat­ted his fore­head. “Ev­ery­thing’s go­ing to be all right,” she said, then Dr. Ele­na Glad­stone snapped shut her med­ical bag and walked to the door. Lip­pin­cott’s wor­ried eyes fol­lowed her.

At the door, she turned and said, “Good­bye, Ran­dall. And I do mean good­bye.”

She smiled for a mo­ment. Lip­pin­cott’s eyes showed his con­fu­sion and fright. Then she laughed aloud, throw­ing her head back and toss­ing her long red hair, be­fore she walked from the room.

In the hall­way, she glanced to her right. Stand­ing in front of the nurse’s desk, their backs to her, she saw the young white man and the old Ori­en­tal she had seen that morn­ing at Elmer Lip­pin­cott’s es­tate. She quick­ly walked across the hall and dis­ap­peared through an ex­it door.

She walked down two flights of stairs, and then in­to an­oth­er pa­tient area of the clin­ic. In the pa­tient lounge, she found a pay phone and placed a thir­ty-​five-​cent call.

When the phone was an­swered, she said:

“This is Ele­na. He’ll be gone in five min­utes.”

Then she hung up.

The nurse had nev­er had any­body as im­por­tant as a Lip­pin­cott on her floor be­fore. On the oth­er hand, no one had ev­er looked in­to her eyes like the thin dark-​haired man who stood smil­ing in front of her. His eyes were deep pools of dark­ness, and they seemed to act like vac­uums, suck­ing her emo­tion out of her, through her eyes, and she point­ed down the hall to­ward Lip­pin­cott’s room.

“Room twen­ty-​two-​twelve,” she said.

“Thanks,” Re­mo said. “I’ll re­mem­ber this.”

“You’re com­ing back, aren’t you?” the nurse asked.

“Noth­ing would keep me away,” Re­mo said. Chi­un smirked.

“When?” the nurse asked. “You com­ing right back?

“Well, I’ve got a cou­ple of things to do first,” Re­mo said, “but then I’ll be back. You can count on it.”

“I work till 12:30. I get off then,” the nurse said. “I don’t live alone but my room­mate’s a stew­ardess for Pan-​Am and she’s in Guam or some­place like that. There’s no­body at my place. Ex­cept me. And who­ev­er I bring.”

“Sounds good to me,” Re­mo said. He took Chi­un’s arm and led him down the hall.

“This coun­try is ex­ceed­ing strange,” Chi­un said.

“Why?” Re­mo asked.

“The ado­ra­tion from that girl. Why, with all the peo­ple in this coun­try, most of

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