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“Um … yes,” said Trout. “Thanks. ”
“It’s instant. ”
“Instant’s fine. ”
“I don’t have milk or sugar. ”
Of course you don’t, you sour old fuck. “Black works for me,” Trout said aloud.
“Me, too,” said Goat hastily, even though he was an eight packs of sugar and a quarter cup of half-and-half coffee drinker.
Volker set a tray with three steaming mugs on the coffee table. Two of the mugs had the logo of Rockview Correctional Institution on them. Very cheerful for home entertaining, mused Trout. The third had “Happy Birthday!” written in bright red cartoon letters. Trout took that one.
Volker lowered himself onto the La-Z-Boy across from the couch. He perched on the edge, elbows on his knees, holding the coffee cup between his palms. The vapor from the cup steamed his glasses.
“Before you ask your questions,” he said, “I want to explain something to you. When you called this afternoon it got me to thinking that I ought to record this. I was going to write it down, but now that you’re here I can see that this is probably a tale best told to real people. That way you can ask questions. I don’t want any mistakes, and there won’t be a chance later to get the facts. ”
“Why not?” asked Trout as he set his small recorder on the coffee table.
“Because,” said Dr. Volker as he peered through the steam, “as soon as we’re done here I’m going to kill myself. ”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
WOLVERTON REGIONAL HOSPITAL
Dez and JT were climbing into her car when the radio buzzed. JT took it.
“Unit Two. ”
Flower screamed at them. “JT! Jesus Christ … get back to Doc’s. Oh my god! The state police are there. They said … they said … oh my god!”
“Flower! Calm down and tell me what happened. ”
“It’s the chief!” Flower wailed, her voice phlegmy with tears and shrill with panic. “Oh my god … the chief!”
Dez slammed the car in gear and stamped down on the gas so hard the cruiser shot away from the curb like a missile, burying JT and Dez deep into the backrests. She cut across the oncoming traffic, siren wailing, swung into the fast lane, and was doing ninety before they’d gone two blocks.
“Flower,” JT said, speaking as calmly as he could. “Tell me what happened. ”
But he already knew. They both knew.
Flower said it anyway.
“He’s dead! They called it in. The chief’s dead! Oh my god, JT, what’s happening?”
What’s happening? Dez thought as she rocketed past cars that veered desperately out of her way. That’s the question everyone’s asking. What the holy fuck is happening?
She knew with perfect clarity that she absolutely did not want an answer to that question. And, with equal clarity she knew that she was racing toward that answer at over a hundred miles an hour.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
GREEN GATES 55-PLUS COMMUNITY
Volker’s living room was deadly still. Trout and Goat sat staring at the old doctor as motes of dust drifted like tiny planets through the air.
“Okay,” said Trout as reasonably as he could, “why do you want to kill yourself?”
“Want to?” echoed the doctor. “I don’t want to die. I would prefer to live out my remaining years somewhere quiet where I can spend my afternoons fishing and my evenings listening to Wagner. But as the saying goes, ‘that ship has sailed. ’” He smiled. He had surprisingly bad teeth for a medical man. “However … I don’t care to spend the rest of my life in jail. ”
