Chapter 5

"I'm in charge of Susan Malone's—well, Ariel Shaughnessy's—case for the Marshals Service," Brodine told me. "For the moment I need you to bring me up to speed on what's happened, if you will."

I gave him a synopsis of what I knew about the hit-and-run, and what the doctors had told me. He wasn't taking notes, but I figured he didn't have to; he was attentive all the way, even for having been got abruptly out of bed—I assumed that was the case based on his slightly disheveled appearance—in the middle of the night.

"Thank you, Mr. Costain," he said when I'd finished.

"Larry." I corrected.

"Larry," he concurred. "I'm Jim. Not James, please; and not Jimmy either, if you don't mind. Is that it?"

"No. There's a possibility, and that's all I can say, a possibility that it was somebody named Walter Quiller who was driving the car that hit her, and that it was deliberate. There's a stronger possibility that Walter Quiller was here in the hospital shortly after she'd been brought in, posing as me, trying to see her."

That got his serious attention. "And you know this how?"

I had to be a little careful now. Well, actually I had to lie a little. OK, a lot. But the truth would've got me dismissed immediately as a whack job, and that wasn't going to help Susan.

"Quiller was somebody Susan told me she was afraid of," I said. "That's all she said, just that name, I have no idea who he is. She gave me kind of a quick-and-dirty description, too. I'm just speculating about the driver, but the description fits a guy the e.r. people said got there before me and gave them my name. He didn't have ID, told them he was going to go get it and never came back."

He nodded acknowledgment, and pursed his lips. A nasty thought occurred to me.

"You know, they're going to put her in ICU after she's recovered from surgery," I pointed out. "A guy who can say he's me can just as easily dress up and say he's a doctor, and get in to see her. And then—"

"Good point," he said. He pulled out a cell phone.

"I don't think you're supposed to use those things here," I warned.

"Really?" he murmured, and simply went ahead and dialed. I could hear sounds from the phone even though I couldn't make out words. As soon as a voice came he spoke quickly. "Brodine here. Subject Shaughnessy. Currently hospitalized, Mother of Mercy. Suspicious hit-and-run. I need round-the-clock guards, ASAP, reason to believe immediate hazard. Liase locals, but for now our people." There was some equally brief talk from the other end of the connection. "Appreciate it. Good. That's all." He closed the phone.

"That's taken care of," he said to me. "It's probably an abundance of caution, but we don't like to lose people, especially before they've testified."

"Susan isn't expendable whether she's already testified or not," I said flatly.

He nodded. "Agreed. I phrased it poorly. You concur, though, that all precautions are being taken? Anything else you want to suggest?"

"I guess that's as good as it can get," I said. "I can't think of anything more to do, provided your people can keep out fake docs and nurses and all."

"They can and will," he said. "I expect she's safe enough in the recovery room. By the time she's moved we'll have people on duty."

I shrugged. "I can't ask for much more."

"There's rather a great deal more that I need to ask you, though," he said.

"Such as how do I know about the witness protection program."

"That's a start," he agreed. "I assume she told you."