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“Did you recover the bullet?”
The doctor took a Ziploc bag from his pocket containing a chunk of lead. “I was wondering when someone was going to ask.”
Holly looked at it. “Looks like thirty-two caliber,” she said.
> “That’s what I figured.”
“And nobody asked about this?”
“I understand there was a detective here during the night, but he was gone by the time I got out of surgery.”
“Did he see the chief at all?”
“No.”
She nodded. “I’d like to see the chief.”
“He can’t be disturbed yet,” the doctor replied.
“I don’t want to disturb him; I just want to get a look at him, with your help.”
“All right, come this way.”
“Jimmy, you wait here,” Holly said.
The doctor led the way down the hall and through the intensive-care-unit doors. There were four beds in the room; only one was occupied. Chet Marley was surrounded by monitoring equipment, his head swathed in bandages. A nurse sat on a chair beside the bed.
“Any change?” the doctor asked her.
“No, sir, still the same.”
He turned back to Holly. “Well, there he is.”
Holly approached the bed and looked closely at Marley. His head was made to seem larger by the bandages, and his face was distorted by the respirator mouthpiece. She switched on a light over the bed and looked at his right cheek. “Major contusion here,” she said.
The doctor looked at it. “I didn’t see that before. His head was already draped when I came into the O.R.”
She picked up his right hand and looked at it. There were scrapes and bruising on the knuckles. She walked around the bed and examined the left hand. Two nails were broken off to the quick, and there had been bleeding. “I need to look at his torso,” she said.
“I don’t want to move him to undo the gown,” the doctor replied.
“Then cut it open for me.”
He turned to the nurse. “Get me some scissors.” The woman opened a drawer and handed him a pair, and he cut down the front of the gown and opened it.
Holly held the gown back and looked at Marley’s trunk. “Big bruise on the left ribs,” she said. “Some swelling down here.” She pointed.
“You’re right.”
Holly closed the gown, and the nurse taped it closed. Holly gently pulled back the sheet and examined Marley’s legs and feet. “No injuries here,” she said.
“I concur,” the doctor replied.
“Did you note any powder burns around the bullet wound?” she asked.
“There was some blackening; it wasn’t severe.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” They walked out of the recovery room together. “With a wound like this, what are the chances for any kind of recovery?” she asked.
