“Let me in here,” Marisa said, pushing Kaley aside. She examined the wound, then applied a fresh towel to it.
“I’ll call nine-one-one,” Stone said, whipping out his cell phone.
“No,” Marisa barked, “dial this number.” She recited it for him. “Now give me the phone.” She listened for a moment. “This is Marisa, give me Nihls, now.” She waited. “Nihls, I’m bringing in a man with a major abdominal knife wound. Send an ambulance to this address.” She recited it. “Prep OR 1 and start scrubbing. Wait.”
Charley was trying to say something. Marisa bent over him and listened.
“A positive,” Charley murmured, then closed his eyes.
Marisa went back to the phone. “Order four units of type A positive for the ambulance and eight for the OR, stat!” She hung up. “Nihls is the best trauma surgeon in the city,” she said. “He did his surgical residency at Bellevue, and he’s seen more knife wounds than anybody.”
Somewhere out in the street, an ambulance siren could already be heard. “I’ll get them up here,” Stone said, and ran down the stairs.
Nearly four hours later, Stone was shaken awake by Kaley. He had fallen asleep in a chair in a waiting room. Nihls Carlsson stood before him, his surgical scrubs mottled with blood. He looked exhausted. “He’s stable and in recovery,” he said. “There wasn’t too much organ damage, just an awful, twelve-inch wound. He’s young and strong, and he’ll make it.”
Stone shook his hand. “Thank you, Nihls. When can we see him?”
“Give him until tomorrow morning,” Nihls said. “He needs to rest.”
“Will you ask someone to tell him Kaley and Stone were here, and we’ll be back tomorrow morning?”
“Of course.” Nihls went looking for a nurse.
Stone and Marisa dropped Kaley off at her apartment. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked her.
“Sure, now that I know he will be.”
“We’ll pick you up at nine tomorrow morning.”
“Make it ten,” Marisa said.
“All right, ten.”
She closed the door to the cab, and they continued downtown to Turtle Bay.
“I’m really glad you were there,” Stone said.
“So am I,” Marisa replied. “If it had taken five minutes longer to get him a transfusion, he wouldn’t have made it.”
“It’s a good thing you requested blood in the ambulance.”
“A nine-one-one ambulance might not have had it aboard.”
Over dinner, Stone didn’t have much to say. Now that Charley’s recovery seemed assured, he started to think about how to proceed without him. “How long will his recovery be?” he asked Marisa.
“Assuming no infection or other complications, he’ll be out of the hospital in four days or so, and he’ll need to recover at home, with a daily visit from a nurse to change his dressings, for another week. Then he’ll be ambulatory. They’ll remove the stitches about two weeks out — the nurse will know when it’s time — and then he’ll need some rehab to get his abdominal muscles in shape again. He can work during that time, if he feels like it. In a month to six weeks he should have a full recovery.”
“Send his medical bills to me,” Stone said. “We haven’t had time to arrange for company insurance.”
“I’ve already spoken to Dad. The costs are on us, in gratitude for all you did for us during the takeover bid.”
“That’s very kind of all of you. I know Charley will be grateful, too.”
He was already thinking about how to handle the closing, with Charley out of commission. He and Herbie could get it done, and he had already moved the money and asked the bank for a cashier’s check.
The following morning, Charley looked better than Stone had expected. He had been moved to a lovely private room, which, magically, had been filled with flowers. His bed had been raised a little, to make it easier for him to talk. “How’re you feeling?” Stone asked.
“Exhausted.”
“You were on the table for three and a half hours,” Stone said. “That’s hard work.” He told Charley what Marisa had said about his recovery schedule. “Charley, was it Macher or Herman?”
“It wasn’t Herman,” Charley said. “Not big enough. It could have been Macher, but there was a handkerchief tied over his face, so I couldn’t make him.”
“Never mind.”
“Can you and Herb close the deal without me?” Charley asked.
“Sure, did you think you were indispensable?”
Charley smiled. “Well, yeah, sort of. Stone, will you give Kaley and me a few minutes?”
“Sure, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, you’ll be closing. Just call and let me know how it went.”
“Okay. Talk to you then.” Stone left.
Charley pressed the button that raised his bed a little more. “Listen,” he said, “I was going to say this yesterday, but I got interrupted.”
“Yes, you did, and you scared me to death.”
“I’m sorry about that. What I was going to say to you was, why don’t you move into the new apartment with me? Let’s live together for a year or so, and if we can still stand each other, let’s get married.”
Kaley smiled. “What a good idea! Yes, on all points!”
“Quit your job, if you like. You’re not going to need the money.”
“I like my job, so I’ll keep it. Maybe I’ll take some time off to get us moved in, so it will be ready when you are. In the meantime, I’ll stay with you in Stone’s apartment, to see that you’re taken care of.”
“That would be great,” Charley said. “Now I need to get some sleep, right after you kiss me.”
Kaley kissed him, and he closed his eyes. She tiptoed out of the room.
39
Stone got to his desk on time the next morning and rang for Joan.
She picked up the phone. “Yes, boss?”
“Will you please run over to the bank, see Mr. Baird, and pick up a cashier’s check for me?”
“Sure thing. Be right back.” She hung up.
Stone reviewed his copy of the sales contract and closing statement, and by the time he had finished, Joan was back with the check.
“That’s a very nice round number,” she said, handing him the check.
“It’s going to buy a dozen or more companies,” he replied, “for Triangle.”
“How’s Charley doing?”
“He was fine when I saw him yesterday. He ran me out and told me to call him today when we’ve closed.”
“Good luck,” she said, and went back to her desk.
Stone gathered his papers together, put the check in his inside pocket, and got into the Bentley for the trip to the St. Clair mansion.
As he walked up the front steps, he was joined by a young man with an elderly yellow Labrador retriever leashed to his wrist.
“Yes?”
“I’m Eliot Crenshaw, the new corporate counsel for St. Clair. We’re here for the closing.”
Stone scratched the Lab behind an ear. “Who’s your colleague?”
“This is Bessie,” he said. “Sometimes I take her to work. Do you mind?”
“Not in the least. I’ve one at home a lot like her, named Bob.”
“Then you must be a very happy man.”
They went into the building and into the library, finding themselves the first there. Crenshaw unleased Bessie and told her to go lie down. Instead, she began circling the room, sniffing.
The three members of the board of directors and Herb Fisher arrived, and Stone shook all their hands. “I’m sorry that Charley Fox couldn’t be with us this morning. He had an accident over the weekend and is spending a few days in the hospital.”