he wanted to do right now was get laughing; it would hurt like a bastard.
Leydecker took a handkerchief out of his back pocket, mopped his streaming eyes with it, and began to get himself under control.
"Pickering's one of the right-to-lifers, isn't he?" Ralph asked.
He was remembering how Pickering had looked when Hanlon's teenage assistant had helped him sit up. Without his glasses, the man had looked about as dangerous as a bunny in a petshop window.
"You could say that," Mike agreed dryly. "He's the one they caught last year in the parking garage that services the hospital and WomanCare. He had a can of gasoline in his hand and a knapsack filled with empty bottles on his back."
"Also strips of sheeting, don't forget these," Leydecker said.
"These were going to be his fuses. That was back when Charlie was a member in good standing of Daily Bread."
"How close did he come to lighting the place up?" Ralph asked curiously.
Leydecker shrugged. "Not very. Someone in the group apparently decided firebombing the local women's clinic might be a little closer to terrorism than politics and made an anonymous phone-call to Your local police authority,"
"Good deal," Mike said. He snorted another little chuckle, then crossed his arms as if to hold any further outburst inside.
"Yeah," Leydecker said. He laced his fingers together, stretched out his arms, and popped his knuckles. "Instead of prison, a thoughtful, caring 'judge sent Charlie to juniper Hill for six months' worth of treatment and therapy, and they must have decided he was okay, because he's been back in town since July or so."
"Yep," Mike agreed. "He's down here just about every day. Kind of improving the tone of the place. Buttonholes everyone who comes in, practically, and gives them his little peptalk on how any woman who has an abortion is going to perish in brimstone, and how the real baddies like Susan Day are going to burn forever in a lake of fire. But I can't figure out why he'd take after you, Mr. Roberts."
"Just lucky, I guess."
"Are you okay, Ralph?" Leydecker asked. "You look pale."
"I'm fine," Ralph said, although he did not feel fine; in fact, he had begun to feel very queasy.
"I don't know about fine, but you're sure lucky. Lucky those women gave you that can of pepper-gas, lucky you had it with you, and luckiest of all that Pickering didn't just walk up behind you and stick that knife of his into the nape of your neck. Do you feet like coming down to the station and making a formal statement now, or-" Ralph abruptly lunged out of Mike Hanlon's ancient swivel chair, bolted across the room with his left hand over his mouth, and clawed open the door in the rear right corner of the office, praying it wasn't a closet. If it was, he was probably going to fill up Mike's galoshes with a partially processed grilled-cheese sandwich and some slightly used tomato soup.
It turned out to be the room he needed. Ralph dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and vomited with his eyes closed and his left arm clamped tightly against the hole Pickering had made in his side. The pain as his muscles first locked and then pushed was still enormous.
"I take it that's a no," Mike Hanlon said from behind him, and then put a comforting hand on the back of Ralph's neck.
"Are you okay?
Did you get that thing bleeding again?"
"I don't think so," Ralph said, He started to unbutton his shirt, then paused and clamped his arm tight against his side again as his stomach gave another lurch before quieting once more. He raised his arm and looked at the dressing. It was pristine. "I appear to be okay."
"Good," Leydecker said, He was standing just behind the librarian. "You done?"
"I think so, yes." Ralph looked at Mike shamefacedly. "I apologize for that."
"Don't be a goof." Mike helped Ralph to his feet.
"Come on," Leydecker said, "I'll give you a ride home. Tomorrow will be time enough for the statement. What you need is to put your feet up the rest of today, and a good night's sleep tonight."
"Nothing like a good night's sleep," Ralph agreed. They had reached the office door. "You want to let go of my arm now, Detective Leydecker? We're not going steady just yet, are we?"
Leydecker looked startled, then dropped Ralph's arm. Mike started to laugh again." 'Not going-' That's pretty good, Mr. Roberts."
Leydecker was smiling. "I guess we're not, but you