Bread Upon the Waters by Irwin Shaw Read Free Book Online Page B

really for until tonight.”
    “He sure was lucky you came along when you did,” Jimmy said to Caroline. “The least he could do would be to offer you a new racquet.”
    “You’re all hopeless,” Leslie said. “We don’t need any favors. Everybody ready for dessert?”
    They were finishing their coffee in the living room when Hazen and the doctor came in, Hazen with a new bandage around his head like a turban, and a thick white pad plastered onto one side of his face with adhesive tape. He was pale and Strand was sure that the operation in the bathroom had not been pleasant, but he was smiling, as though to reassure his hosts that all was well.
    “All mended,” Prinz said. “For the time being. You’ll have a headache, though. It might be a good idea to have your doctor take some X rays of your skull tomorrow. Make sure you have plenty of aspirin in the house. Take a sleeping pill, too. You’ll need it. And”—Prinz smiled grimly—“don’t look in the mirror in the morning.”
    “Would you like a cup of coffee, Jerry?” Leslie asked.
    Prinz shook his head. “No time. My heart attack’s in the hospital by now and I have to look in on him.”
    “Anybody we know?” Strand asked.
    “No.” He peered coldly through his thick glasses at Strand. “But he’s exactly your age. When’re you coming in for a checkup?”
    “The next time I feel absolutely marvelous.” Strand laughed. “I’d rather not be told what I have if I don’t know it’s there in the first place.”
    “Have it your own way,” Prinz growled. “I’m too busy as it is. Good night, all.”
    Strand walked with him to the door. “He’s all right, isn’t he? Hazen?”
    “He’s damned lucky,” Prinz said as he put on a black felt hat with a wide brim that made him look like a rabbi. “He told me about Caroline. Idiot. Maybe she ought to join the police force. See if you can get her to take a sleeping pill, too. And don’t let her go out tonight. She has a funny look in her eye.”
    “She says she didn’t get hurt.”
    “Not anyplace where a doctor could find it, maybe.” Prinz said enigmatically. “Give her the sleeping pill.”
    Strand held the door open for him and the doctor went out, on the way to his heart attack, a man exactly Strand’s age.
    Strand went back into the living room, where Jimmy was pouring another straight Scotch for Hazen. Hazen was holding the glass steadily in his hand. “To help me face the night,” he said to Strand. “Thank you for Dr. Prinz. He has a very clever pair of hands.”
    “How many stitches?” Jimmy asked.
    “Five or six,” Hazen said carelessly. “The good doctor said he’ll send the bill to you. If you have a pen handy, I’ll write my address down and you can send it on to me.”
    Jimmy took a pen and a scrap of paper out of his jacket pocket, and Hazen wrote swiftly on it and handed it to Strand. The writing was steady and even, Strand noticed as he put the paper in his pocket.
    “It’s just off the corner of 82nd Street and Fifth Avenue,” Hazen said. “Right across from the museum. Very handy.” He finished his drink and stood up, carefully putting the empty glass on an ashtray, so that it wouldn’t stain the end table next to his chair. “The next time you go to the museum perhaps you could come and visit me. I have quite a lot of hospitality to repay. Now I must go. I’ve bothered you fine people enough for one evening.”
    “I don’t think you ought to go alone,” Strand said. “I’ll go with you. We can get a taxi on the corner.”
    “Oh, there’s no need, I assure you,” Hazen protested.
    “Do you have anyone to take care of you?” Leslie asked, looking worried. “If not, you could stay here. Jimmy wouldn’t mind sleeping on the couch for one night.”
    “I’ll be perfectly all right,” Hazen said. Strand noticed that he hadn’t said whether there would be anyone in his apartment. “Dr. Prinz gave me his telephone number if anything comes up.