Mama Law and the Moonbeam Racer. Fred Yorg

TWO

      SET UP FOR MURDER

      ‘A taste for truth at any cost is a passion which spares nothing.’

      Albert Camus

CHAPTER NINE

      My next recollection was waking up in an unfamiliar room. It was hot. The kind of hot, I’d known only too well as a young man growing up in the Bayou on a mid summer’s day. Droplets of sweat trickled off my chest and ran down my side. My eyes were blurry and I was having trouble adjusting to the overhead lights, I was confused and disoriented. ‘Where was I,’ my mind asked. You’re a detective figure it out, use your logic and deductive reasoning. I did my best to grapple with my new surroundings and make some sense of it. The walls were painted an off yellow. A television was perched high up in the middle of the room, hanging on metal supports from the ceiling. The bed had metal side railings and was most unfamiliar to me. I was battling paranoia and my worst fears when a pleasant looking blond made her way through the door and into the room. It was clear now, this was a hospital room and she was a nurse.

      “Mr. Law, how are you feeling?” she asked in a pleasant voice.

      “A little tired. How long have I been out?”

      “Let’s see, it’s a little past 1 p.m., your chart says you were admitted a little after 3 a.m.”

      “What’s wrong with me?”

      “You’ve got a mild concussion and a superficial gunshot wound to your left arm. Hold still for a minute, I’ve got to take your blood pressure and vitals.”

      She put the stethoscope to my chest, shined a small flashlight into my eyes and pumped up the air in the tube tightly wound around my right biceps. When she had heard enough, she shot me a quick smile and then released my arm from the clutches of the tube.

      “Everything’s normal.”

      “My left arm, I can’t…”

      “Your left arm is tied down to the bed. That’s the arm you were shot in. You lost a fair amount of blood last night and we have you on an IV drip. Now just try to relax.”

      “I feel doped up.”

      “Don’t worry, that’s normal. It’s just the medication.”

      Trying to get up was a lost cause. Although I tried she just gently pushed me back into the bed. I wasn’t in condition to fight her and I slipped back into the Demerol haze. The drugs made me weak and helpless as a new born child but my mind was working overtime in my dreamlike state. It was like a bad movie from the sixties whenever they wanted to portray some adolescent teenager spaced out on LSD.

      Images flashed about me in vivid colors with no rhyme or reason. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. I started to panic the more I tried to break free from the clutches of the demons of the subconscious.

      Then the siren’s call brought me back, “Mr. Law, Mr. Law.”

      “Finally a familiar face, the blond nurse who had tended to me earlier. I grabbed her hand, finally something solid, something real to hold on to. My body and mind took heart and were quickly overcome by a sense of serenity that I had seldom known.

      “We’re going to keep you up for a while. We’ve removed the IV from your arm, so you should be more alert than you were the last time I made my rounds. I’m going to adjust the bed to a more upright position. Ready?”

      Nodding my assent, she slowly cranked the bed up till I was in an upright position. “I feel a little weird, like I’m dizzy.”

      She offered up a green plastic glass with a bent straw, “Take a sip of the water, you’re fine. Take your time” I don’t know if it was the water, the drugs wearing off, or the nurse’s reassuring bedside manner but I was slowly coming back from the shadows. My mind randomly flashed back to the night before and a vague image of a body bag off in the distant light. Cold water was everywhere and then the horror of reality struck. That was Miles. Grief swept through my body like a tidal wave. I started to shake. My breathing became labored and strained. The nurse assuming the worst called for backup and placed an oxygen mask over my mouth. A second nurse rushed in and hovered over my left side like an avenging angel, “What happened?”

      “I don’t know. He seemed fine, and then all of a sudden he seemed to go into some type of seizure. Get whoever is assigned to this floor. I don’t like the looks of this.”

      “Give him a minute, could be an anxiety attack,” the older nurse said in a detached tone. “Move aside, I’ll check his pressure and heart rate.”

      The longest sixty seconds of my life passed by and then the old nurse reassuringly reported that my elevated heart rate and pulse were returning to normal. Turning to the blond, “They do that sometimes. Always give them a minute before you call the doctors in.”

      “Thanks, I appreciate your help,” the blonde nurse responded.

      “Anytime.” Then just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone. As she exited the room, I noticed there was a guard in uniform stationed outside the door. Seemed strange to me at the time, I assumed that they may have thought I was still in danger and were just taking extra precaution. It never occurred to me that the guard was there to keep an eye on me.

      Dismissing the cop on the door, I turned my attention back to the nurse. She gave me some juice and custard, fluffed my pillow and reassured me again that everything was normal. Before she left, I talked her into releasing my left arm from the bed. No reason to have it tied down any longer, she assured me there would be no further need of the IV drip. A sharp pain rippled through the left side of my body when I tried to move. The pain in my arm was mild compared to the pain in my heart when my mind returned to thoughts of Miles.

      Five minutes later the painkillers did their work and once again, I drifted off into a state of unconsciousness, leaving my subconscious to deal with the horror and bewilderment from the events of the previous night.

CHAPTER TEN

      The next morning when I awoke, a middle aged oriental nurse had replaced Blondie. Her name was Suzy according to her name tag. She got me up around 6:30 a.m. routinely checked my vital signs, gave me a sponge bath, and half dozen pills of assorted sizes and colors. When she had completed her tasks she left me but promised to return with breakfast shortly. True to her word, she returned about forty-five minutes later with a breakfast consisting of juice, poached eggs, toast and coffee. It went down well, so well I asked if she could bring me another helping. She commented that it was good to see my appetite was back and accommodated my request. Fully fed, the nurse was kind enough to turn on the television.

      We settled on channel thirteen, an old movie was playing from the late forties, not the best entertainment one could hope for, but it sure as hell beat the likes of Rosie, Jerry, Sally, Montel and Judge Judy. In truth the television was only background static designed to divert my attention. It didn’t work, my mind was fully absorbed concentrating on the other night, Miles and what the hell had happened. I was deep into my own private thoughts when I heard a loud knock at the door.

      “Can you use some company?”

      Startled, I looked up to see the Sarge standing in the doorway with a fruit basket in hand, “Sure thing, Sarge. Come on in, glad to see a friendly face.”

      He walked into the room slowly. Oddly taking small mincing steps, like he was walking on egg shells. Although we’d been working together for close to ten years, I can’t really say I knew him all that well. Hell, I didn’t know anything about him. Not even sure of his first name let alone his last.

      “How you holding up, Mooney?”

      “Not bad. My head is a little sore.”

      “How’s your arm? I heard you caught one.”

      “Yeah, I got lucky. Bullet went through, it’s a little sore, but I’ll live. I really appreciate you coming.”

      “Don’t mention