Читать книгу Every Man for Himself - Mark J. Hannon - Страница 20

CHAPTER 16

BUFFALO, 1935

“I know it should be here. He always carried his pocket watch with him.” Shit, Johnny thought, the guy didn’t look like he had any family, as shabby as he dressed, or I wouldn’t have copped the watch. He put his hands in his pockets and tried to slide down the hall to the exit like he was going for a smoke when he spotted Doc Woldman standing in front of him, arms crossed in front of his white coat.

“Johnny, come over into my office for a moment, please.”

The bald headed bastard knew. He’d been watching me lately. Shit.

Once inside the office, Doc quietly said, “Close the door, Johnny.” When Johnny did, the pathologist said, “You know why you’re here, Johnny. Empty your pockets, please. Inside out.” Johnny dumped a couple of dimes, a few pennies, a half pack of cigarettes, a box of matches, keys to his building, and a couple of toothpicks. He tried to palm the watch, but the doctor spotted the chain between his fingers and shook his head.

“Johnny, it isn’t just that you’re stealing. That watch might be the only thing that woman has to remember her father by when he’s buried. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? You’re not going hungry. You haven’t got a family to support. How could you do such a thing?”

Johnny shrugged. The hell with this, he thought, just get it over with.

“Have you got anything to say, son?”

Johnny stared at his shoes.

The doctor shook his head again, and said, “You’re fired, Johnny. Give me the watch and get your stuff off my desk. I’m going to have one of the orderlies go with you to your locker and check it for other things you might have there that’ve been stolen. Consider yourself lucky I don’t call the police.”

He met the orderly at the office door. Hmm, I dunno this guy, but I’ll bet he’d steal plenty if he had the chance. Well, there’s nothing in my locker, I know that. Anyway, the vending’s going pretty good now. Time to unload this chemical, stinking funeral parlor, Johnny thought.