Page 31 of Collateral Claim
“That’s right.”
“Where did you go to school?”
I tell her.
“You have a specialty?”
I tell that too.
Mary takes another hit. I refrain from grabbing back the pipe. Half my worries have disappeared already. If I inhale again, I’ll be worry-free, floating on a cloud. “Endo tells me you haven’t been well. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
Mary describes her problems, and based on what she’s telling me, I suspect she has indigestion and possibly a bacterial infection. I don’t have a pen or paper, or my medical bag, for that matter, so I recite the name of the over-the-counter medicine she can take to feel better. I recommend a common test for uncovering the bacterial infection I suspect she has. If that’s the case, she’ll need antibiotics, which require a prescription.
“You just tell me what I need, and I’ll get it,” she says.
“But that’s not how it works. Even when I make house calls, I prescribe the medicine, and patients pick up the meds at a pharmacy. I’m not practicing now. I would prefer you see your primary.” They must have a clinic in the town.
“Dr. Kelvinston passed away late last year, and nobody good has taken his place since.”
“That was a long time ago. Where do people get treated?”
“In the city.”
“How far is the city?”
Mary checks with Dec, who nods. I guess she can tell me now. “About eighty miles out.”
I gasp. “That’s a long way to go to the clinic.”
Mary shrugs. “It’s what we do. Dr. Kel was one of us. Grew up here. Until my granddaughter graduates, we won’t have a doctor we can trust.”
“I’m sure we can bribe a doctor with attractive offers and bonuses.” I can call a few friends. See if anyone is interested. The location isn’t ideal for a doctor looking for a big-shot career, but if someone is looking for something quiet and remote, maybe extra dangerous and involving an organized criminal unit, they won’t mind.
“Endo tried that, and three of them came. But all three were undercover cops.” She jerks her head. “Dec, here, had to take care of them.”
“Mary,” Dec says in a way I interpret as a warning.
Take care of them? I hope she’s not saying what I think she’s saying.
“Last one departed not too long ago.” Mary gets up with a groan. “Here.” She offers me her phone. “Write down what I need, would you?”
I type her a list of meds and dosages. Once done, my finger hovers over the numbers. An emergency dial is just a single red button I could press and hold.
Mary snatches back the phone. She pierces me with a glare. “Endo’s father was a ruthless man, but compared to his sons, he was a cupcake. Don’t let the charm fool you. Endo means what he says he’ll do with you, but I hope it doesn’t come to that. It would be a shame if my husband had to bury you.”
I gulp.
Mary departs, leaving me wondering what Endo told her he’d do with me. Nothing good, I suppose, since it would require a burial. Fortunately, smoking makes it sound better than it should.
A man wearing a black kimono-type uniform arrives on a bicycle. He parks it and climbs the steps, heading straight for me.
“You must be Scarlett,” he says and offers me his hand while smiling widely, warmly. “I’m Philip, the head chef for the estate. My husband, Marquis, told me all about you.”
We shake hands. I’m pretty sure we’re having a conversation, but it feels surreal because his words aren’t making much sense, and the way his mouth moves is quite fascinating. He has a nice mustache.
“Scarlett?” someone asks.
“Hm?” I turn to find nobody behind me.
