Part 107 (1/2)
”Can't you see he's in agony?”
Chapter 36 The opening of the oak box was delayed by hours. The excavators, working with the caution of archeologists, chipped up the floor as carefully as possible, unwilling to destroy anything of potential significance.
Meanwhile, Hunter's tormented body had to be removed. It was carried out through the pantry wall by Thomas, Whiteside, and Hammond.
Whiteside telephoned a British doctor in Manhattan, one always on standby to treat emergencies of local agents in the field, emergencies which wouldn't be met with snooping questions.
An ambulance was brought to the corner of Eighty-eighth Street and Park Avenue where, after a painfully circuitous route through dark underground sewer corridors, Hammond guided the injured man up to the street through a manhole.
The ma.s.sive body of Hunter, now useless, like a big crippled bear who'd been wounded by riflemen, was eased into the back of the ambulance. He had one arm across his face, in the effort of trying not to yield to the torment of his shattered bones. He writhed slightly, moaned though he tried not to, and bordered on a merciful unconsciousness which Thomas, watching him, wished would descend.
Whiteside looked to Hammond and Thomas, then glanced back toward the house.
”I should go with him Whiteside said. He also knew he should stay, finish the Sandler inquiry as best he could.
”I'll keep you informed,” said Thomas.
”You can trust me' ”I'd like to come back,” he said.
Hammond grimaced slightly.
”We won't be there in another two hours,” said Thomas.
”I'll contact YOU.”
Whiteside looked at the groaning Hunter. He glanced back to Thomas and offered his hand.
”All right” he conceded.
”I don't know how much use an old man is in this, anyway.- ”I'll never take an old man for granted again'” said Thomas. He offered his hand.
Whiteside accepted. He then hopped into the back of the ambulance.
Thomas's last vision of him was as he was placing his arm on Hunter's shoulder, as if to comfort his fallen a.s.sociate.
”He's almost sentimental, know that?” said Hammond with distrust as the ambulance pulled away.
”There's something about him . . ” He caught himself and changed the thought.
”Good thinking, anyway,” he said.
”About what?”
”Telling him we'll be gone in two hours,” said Hammond.
”I suspect,” said Thomas, ”that we will be. You'll see when we dig the nails out of that box.”
Still, the securing of the buried box was an arduous procedure.
A false top had been installed across it, solid beams which pinned it beneath the floor.
The dock dragged. The hours were unyielding.