seymoure | The Bedlamite Obligation (A Matt Savage Adventure) Chapter 23

Waiting is the Worst

“An intense anticipation itself transforms
possibility into reality.”
-Samuel Smiles

We got to the office as the sun was giving up on the day and fading behind the horizon.

We waved at the patrol car as we walked into the building. There had been cars there through business hours ever since MacPherson had ransacked the place. I had no idea how soon the cops would go home, but it was nice to know that, for the moment, they were close by.

After considering the destruction left behind in Chicago and the annihilation of the Finley gang, it was hard to know what two uniformed officers could have done, should MacPherson and his pair of professionals have come to do damage to me and my place. But it was still nice to know someone was thinking of us.

On the trip up in the elevator, I was gifted with something like few have ever witnessed. Hugo performed one of the most amazing yawns the world has ever seen. One would have thought that he would draw in every ounce of air the small lift could contain, but not so. He did, however, touch both walls with his outstretched arms. I stood stunned, up to the point of the doors opening.

We would have smiled about that all the way to the office, had our journey been uninterrupted.

But as we turned to exit the elevator, we met guns trained intently on us. The faces of “Face” and “Cotton” were above the hands holding those pistols. Our smiles faded; theirs were non-existent.

Their wrists flicked to point us towards my office, and we followed their suggestion.

When we opened the door, we saw him sitting on my couch as though it were a throne. I had noticed his size before, but for some reason the size of his fists were what came to my eye first. They were huge, almost twice the size of his massive wrists.

When he stood to meet us, it felt like the room should tilt, but it didn’t.

“Shoe,” he demanded, “you got the paper?”

I took the stationary with Nick Cavano’s private number on it and handed it to the monstrosity before me. It seemed to vanish within his mammoth mitt. He didn’t even look at it. I am sure he was certain no one would dare refuse to cooperate.

He gave a slight jerk of his head, and his compatriots thrust Hugo onto the couch.

“I dislike Gumshoes, but I hate their mooks,” he muttered and then shrugged another unspoken instruction.

Four shots rang out deafeningly in the tiny room.

The smell of gunpowder was all around me.

I looked with horror at my friend slouched on my divan with blood pouring from his body.

“Grab ‘im,” Leo demanded.

They each took one of my arms, and MacPherson shoved the paper in his coat pocket.

“They tell me I hit hard enough to stop yer’ heart,” he sneered at me. “Let’s see, why don’ we?”

On saying that he hit me, smack in the center of my chest, as hard as I can ever remember being struck. Stars exploded from my head totally unlike any Looney Tunes cartoon. It could just as easily had been my brains erupting from my eyes and ears.

I also suddenly forgot how to breathe.

All I could hear was the three of them laughing raucously as they walked out of the office.

It is impossible to know how long I stood there. I knew I had to get to someone for help. If I looked at Hugo I wouldn’t make it; I would simply collapse in tears and pain. If I tried to get to my phone, I wouldn’t remember how to dial.

I fell against the door and was in the hall.

I was aware that, to my left, the doors of the elevator were open and the police from downstairs were running out.

Closer to me was an elderly man that I should have known. The face was familiar, but beyond that I couldn’t make my mind work. I also saw a pretty young woman standing with the old man. Some kind of May-December paramour thing?

Damn. I have been doing far too many divorce cases. I hated thinking that way.

My knees hit the ground as everything went foggy.

There was a confusion of sounds swirling around me as I noticed pain radiating up my arm.

Then I fell forward as consciousness, so much work, evacuated from my folding body.

I tried to say something about Hugo, but it was probably something else. Words were difficult, and my mouth was a mud puddle.

Then I died.