The street lamp where he had parked the van had failed, how convenient, he thought. He saw her enter the street, head down against the weather, hunche... against the cold, hurrying towards the hospital. The blue flash of lightning and the crack of thunder – unseasonable, but no less intense for that - stopped her in her haste. She looked skywards for a moment and then hurried on.She passed the van. He was standing by its rear doors. ?Frances,? he called as she went by. She stopped and turned. It. ”Mr. Ott picked up the phone ... still at the point of a gun and dialed.“Hello, you old goat fucker,”“Of course it’s Bob ... who else knows?”“Good to hear your voice, too, Clarence.”“Clarence, we have a problem,”“There’s a youngster waving a gun in my face and he’s wearing a vest that claims he works for you.”“Certainly,” Robert said. “Your boss wants to speak to you.”He handed the phone to the gun toter.He wasn’t polite, “Bullshit!” He turned red in the face and handed the phone to an older. More

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