all this with a toaster?" Nick muttered. "Jesus and Mary, Tom, Dick and Harry." He got up and raised his voice. "He's not dead, Ace."
Albert had bent over again when Nick left him. Now he straightened slowly and took a step toward him. "He's not?"
"Listen for yourself. Out for the count, but still in the game." Not for long, though; not by the sound of him. "Let's check on Mr Gaffney - maybe he got off lucky, too. And what about the stretcher?"
"Huh?" Albert looked at Nick as though he had spoken in a foreign language.
"The stretcher," Nick repeated patiently as they walked toward the open Airport Services door.
"We found it," Albert said.
"Did you? Super!"
Albert stopped just inside the door. "Wait a minute," he muttered, then squatted and felt around for Don's lighter. He found it after a moment or two. It was still warm. He stood up again. "Mr Gaffney's on the other side of the desk, I think."
They walked around, stepping over the tumbled stacks of paper and the IN/OUT basket. Albert held the lighter and flicked the wheel. On the fifth try the wick caught and burned feebly for three or four seconds. It was enough. Nick had actually seen enough in the spark-flashes the lighter's wheel had struck, but he hadn't liked to say so to Albert. Don Gaffney lay sprawled on his back, eyes open, a look of terrible surprise still fixed on his face. He hadn't gotten off lucky after all.
"How was it that Toomy didn't get you as well?" Nick asked after a moment. "I knew he was in here," Albert said. "Even before he struck Mr Gaffney, I knew." His voice was still dry and shaky, but he felt a little better. Now that he had actually faced poor Mr Gaffney - looked him in the eye, so to speak - he felt a little better.
"Did you hear him?"
"No - I saw those. On the desk." Albert pointed to the little heap of torn strips.
"Lucky you did." Nick put his hand on Albert's shoulder in the dark. "You deserve to be alive, mate. You earned the privilege. All right?"
"I'll try," Albert said.
"You do that, old son. It saves a lot of nightmares. You're looking at a man who knows."
Albert nodded.
"Keep it together, Ace. That's all there is to it - just keep things together and you'll be fine."
"Mr Hopewell?"
"Yes?"
"Would you mind not calling me that? I - " His voice clogged, and Albert cleared his throat violently. "I don't think I like it anymore."
16
They emerged from the dark cave which was Airport Services thirty seconds later, Nick carrying the folded stretcher by the handle. When they reached the bank of phones, Nick handed the stretcher to Albert, who accepted it wordlessly. The tablecloth lay on the floor about five feet away from Toomy, who was snoring now in great rhythmless snatches of air.
Time was short, time was very fucking short, but Nick had to see this. He had to.
He picked up the tablecloth and pulled the toaster out. One of the heating elements caught in a bread slot; the other tumbled out onto the floor. The timer-dial and the handle you used to push the bread down fell off. One corner of the toaster was crumpled inward. The left side was bashed into a deep circular dent.
That's the part that collided with Friend Toomy's sniffer, Nick thought. Amazing. He shook the toaster and listened to the loose rattle of broken parts inside.
"A toaster," he marvelled. "I have friends, Albert - professional friends - who wouldn't believe it. I hardly believe it myself. I mean... a toaster."
Albert had turned his head. "Throw it away," he said hoarsely. "I don't want to look at it."
Nick did as the boy asked, then clapped him on the shoulder. "Take the stretcher upstairs. I'll join you directly."
"What are you going to do?"
"I want to see if there's anything else we can use in that office."
Albert looked at him for a moment, but he couldn't make out Nick's features in the dark. At last he said, "I don't believe you."
"Nor do you have to," Nick said in an oddly gentle voice. "Go on, Ace. Albert, I mean. I'll join you soon. And don't look back."
Albert stared at him a moment longer, then began to trudge up the frozen escalator, his head down, the stretcher dangling like a suitcase from his right hand. He didn't