The Heckler

JOEY: I don’t know. Something long. Maybe a fishing rod or something like that.

BYRNES: Maybe a rifle? Or a shotgun?

JOEY: Maybe. I didn’t see what was under the paper.

BYRNES: What time did he come down?

JOEY: Around three, three-thirty, I guess.

BYRNES: And when did you remember that Detective Carella was still in the apartment?

JOEY: That’s hard to say, exactly. I had gone over to the candy store where there’s this very cute little blonde, she works behind the counter. And I was shooting the breeze with her while I had an egg cream, and then I guess I went back to the building, and I wondered if Car—What’s his name?

BYRNES: Carella.

JOEY: He’s Italian?

BYRNES: Yes.

JOEY: How about that? I’m Italian, too. Apaisan, huh? How about that?

BYRNES: That’s amazing.

JOEY: How about that? So I wondered if he was still up there, and I buzzed the apartment. No answer. Then—I don’t know—I guess I was just curious, I mean, Mr. Smith having come down already and all that, so I hopped in the elevator and went up to the sixth floor and knocked on the door. There was no answer and the door was locked.

BYRNES: What’d you do then?

JOEY: I remembered that Car—What’s his name?

BYRNES: Carella, Carella.

JOEY: Yeah, Carella, how about that? I remembered he’d gone up on the roof, so I figured I’d go take a look up there, which I done. Then, while I was up there, I figured I might as well go down the fire escape and take a peek into 6C, which I also done. And that was when I seen him laying on the floor.

BYRNES: What’d you do?

JOEY: I opened the window, and I went into the apartment. Man, I never seen so much blood in my life. I thought he was dead. I thought the poor bast—Are you taking downeverything I’m saying?

STENO: What?

BYRNES: Yes, he’s taking down everything you say.

JOEY: Then cut out that word, huh? Bastard, I mean. That don’t look nice.

BYRNES: What did you think when you found Carella?

JOEY: I thought he was dead. All that blood. Also, his head looked caved in.

BYRNES: What did you do? (No answer) I said what did you do then?

JOEY: I passed out cold.

As it turned out, not only had Joey passed out cold, but he had later revived and been sick all over the thick living-room rug, and had only then managed to pull himself to a telephone to call the police. The police had got to the apartment ten minutes after Joey had made the call. By this time, the living-room rug had sopped up a goodly amount of Carella’s blood, and he looked dead. Lying there pale and unmoving, he looked dead. The first patrolman to see him almost tagged the body D.O.A. The second patrolman felt for a pulse, found a feeble one, and instantly called in for a meat wagon. The interne who admitted Carella to the Emergency Section of the Rhodes Clinic estimated that he would be dead within the hour. The other doctors refused to commit themselves in this day and age of scientific miracles. Instead, they began pumping plasma into him and treating him for multiple concussion and extreme shock. Somebody in the front office put his name on the critical list, and somebody else called his wife. Fanny Knowles took the call. She said, “Oh, sweet loving mother of Jesus!” Both she and Teddy arrived at the hospital not a half hour later. Lieutenant Byrnes was already there waiting. At 1A.M . on April 29, Lieutenant Byrnes sent both Teddy and Fanny home. Steve Carella was still on the critical list. At 8A.M ., Lieutenant Byrnes called Frankie Hernandez at home.

“Frankie,” he said, “did I wake you?”

“Huh? Wha’? Who’s this?”

“This is me. Pete.”

“Pete who? Oh, oh, OH! Hello, Lieutenant. Whattsa matter? Something wrong?”

“You awake?”

“Is he dead?” Hernandez asked.

“What?”

“Steve. Is he all right?”

“He’s still in coma. They won’t know for a while yet.”

“Oh, man, I was just having a dream,” Hernandez said. “I dreamt he was dead. I dreamt he was laying face down on the sidewalk in a puddle of blood, and I went over to him, crying for him, saying ‘Steve, Steve, Steve’ again and again, and then I rolled him over, and Pete, it wasn’t Steve’s face looking up at me, it was my own. Oh man, that gave me the creeps. I hope he pulls through this.”

“Yeah.”

Both men were silent for several seconds. Then Byrnes said, “You awake?”

“Yes. What is it?”

“I wouldn’t cut in on what’s supposed to be your day off, Frankie. I know you were up all last night…”

“What is it, Pete?”