"Doctor?"
"I'm okay," said Hawkes.
There was "okay" and "okay." Devlin had seen them all. He looked at the beam that trapped Custus's broken ankle. He unhooked the metal coil from his waist and reached over to hand it to Hawkes. Hawkes shook his head.
"You'll need my help," he said, nodding toward Custus.
"I know how to do this," said Devlin.
"And I know what his body can take. Let's get it done."
It was Devlin's turn to nod.
"What're you nattering about?" said Custus, eyes closed. "Can't you see a man is trying to reach nirvana here?"
"He has a morbid sense of humor," said Hawkes.
"I'm not easily amused," said Devlin. "Let's get him out of here."
He reached into the water, found the rubble under Custus's ankle.
"Can't move the beam," he said, pulling his hand out of the water. "We have to try to clear enough room under that ankle to pull him out."
"Let's do it," said Hawkes.
"Let's do it carefully," said Devlin. "The beam is wedged tight. It's not going to shift, at least not because we remove some of what's under it. Slow so more debris doesn't slide down when we work."
"There's an irony here," Custus said weakly, painfully, as the two men reached under his broken ankles. "But it eludes me."
"Under the circumstances," said Devlin, "that comes as no surprise."
"Ahhh." Custus groaned in pain as a chunk of plaster the size of a football crashed into the water near his head. "This," said Custus, "is the moment in which I am to nobly tell you to save yourselves and leave me to my fate, but I have a secret."
"More than one," said Hawkes.
"Well, yes, but you've penetrated some of my better ones," Custus said. "No, the secret is that I'm not afraid to die, but I am very curious about the future I'll miss if I do. Ah, the irony. Now I remember. You are risking your lives to save me so that I can be accused of a bevy of crimes including murder. If brought to trial and convicted, I will spend what remains of my life in what…?"
Neither Hawkes nor Devlin answered.
"In a dark pit," Custus supplied.
"Might be clear," said Devlin, leaning back, knowing that they had been lucky so far, knowing there was only so much luck to go around for a fireman. "Let's try it. I'll take him under the arms and pull him slowly. You ease his leg under the beam. Let's do it."
"Wait," said Custus. "Doctor, you wouldn't have something a bit stronger than those pills to knock me into oblivion?"
"I've already given you enough morphine to knock out a horse," said Hawkes.
"Did you? Well, it must have been a Shetland pony. I suppose there's no recourse other than to pass out or suffer. The choice now belongs to whatever gods may be who hold dominion over my impenetrable soul."
"Now," said Devlin.
They moved him. His ankle didn't quite clear the beam. Hawkes moved Custus's legs to the side, both hands on the ankle to feel where the bone was most vulnerable to further fracture.
A wave of water seeped in from the jagged wall where the dark open part of the cellar had been minutes earlier. Devlin's beam fell on Hawkes's face. Hawkes shook his head. Both men knew that they were working against a ticking clock that had only a few minutes left.
"Do your best," said Devlin. "We're trying again. And this time it works even if it isn't pretty."
Devlin renewed his grip under Custus's arms as Hawkes reached into the water under the beam.
"Okay," said Hawkes.
"Now," said Devlin, pulling.
"Sweet Secret Jesus," screamed Custus.
Hawkes turned the ankle as Devlin pulled.
Something cracked in Custus's leg.
"Let me be," he said. "You torturous- "
"You're clear," said Hawkes.
Custus didn't hear. He'd passed out.
"Quickly but carefully," said Devlin tying the coil around Custus.
The two men eased his dead weight in the awkwardly tight space. They moved slowly, fighting the urge to hurry, an urge that could get them all killed.
"Ease him up," Devlin called to the two firemen above. "He's not conscious."
The coil went tight and the limp, dripping man was hauled on the board slowly upward until he was no longer visible.
"You're next," said Devlin.
Hawkes didn't argue. When the coil came down, he helped Devlin put it around his waist. Then Hawkes reached for his kit. He had placed Custus's gun inside the kit next to the other evidence he had gathered. Custus had not been all that wrong in the assessment of his situation. The difference was that Sheldon Hawkes did not see the irony.
"Let's go together," said Hawkes.
"Too heavy," said Devlin. "I'll see you on solid ground."
Hawkes felt the pull around his chest as the coil dug in and he was lifted upward into twilight and the waiting face of Stella, who reached over with one of the firemen to help him over the brink.
"You need a long shower," she said with a grin as he stood on more-or-less solid ground.
Across the bombed-out remains of Doohan's, Hawkes saw an ambulance that had to be carrying Custus pull away down Catherine. The ambulance lights were spinning. Half a block farther the siren began to blare.
Stella and Hawkes both watched the coil go back down the hole, clacking against the plastic board. A sound like the belch of a giant echoed from below.
The coil dropped farther, went taut, and the two firemen pulled. Slowly, Devlin appeared. He was helped over the edge by the two firemen who had pulled him up.
Devlin looked over at Stella and grinned.
Stella grinned back.
The monster from below bellowed and went silent.
The walls of the pit did not suddenly collapse. Days later the hole remained and was finally covered over by a bulldozer, which flattened what was left of Doohan's Bar and left the space free for a well-equipped workout center. It would be called Doohan's Gym.
The hotel Ellen Janecek and Paul Sunderland were taken to for the night was barely a two-star accommodation. Sunderland offered to pay for an upgrade to another hotel, but Mac had no time to make the move and besides, there were no other rooms available. People had been trapped by the deluge. Rooms had been gobbled. In other cities, the people might be irritable, complaining. In New York, they were resigned. New Yorkers were no strangers to disaster.
Sunderland and Janecek had been transported to the hotel by Don Flack, who had made sure that they were not followed.
Neither of them had objected, not when Mac gave them a hint of what Keith Yunkin had done to the three other people in the therapy group.
Both of them had been told to stay in their rooms, use room service, make no phone calls. A uniformed officer was in place outside each of their doors.
"How long will I have to do this?" Sunderland had asked.
"Till we catch him," said Flack.
"What? A day? Two days?"
"I don't know. Enjoy the HBO."
Ellen Janecek hadn't asked how long. She had nodded affirmatively to everything Flack said. She smiled that I-have-a-secret smile that made him uneasy, then announced she was going to take a shower.
Flack named her Beautiful Dreamer. Mac thought it fit. Flack had left her after she locked the door behind him.
He nodded at the burly dark cop outside her door. She was safe. At least for tonight.
When she got out of the shower, Ellen's cell phone was ringing. She had been told not to make calls. She hadn't been told not to answer them. Besides, it was an automatic response on her part. The phone rings, you answer it.
"Hello," she said.
"Ellen, I gotta see you. Where are you?"
The line was bad, very bad. She could barely make out the words.
"Jeffrey?"
"My mom's…tonight…never."
"I can't hear you," she said.
"Please," he said. "Where are…got to…"
"The Hopman Hotel," she said. "You know where it is? Can you get here?"
"Room?"