Great Families Also Die

By Mim Poplees

This is a story of a young lad in NYC who was raised by immigrant parents. He went on to become a great detective, and also raised a great family. Then his happy life was marred by six murders. This book contains much violence and some explicit sex scenes that I do not recommend this book for the teenage reader. I've thrown in some humor in order to make this light and enjoyable reading.
I tried to write in the fashion of my idol, the late great Alfred Hitchcock. He always had a fantastic ending. This ending will knock your socks off... so please do not read the ending first, as some do!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493177493

Book preview

PROLOGUE

THE TURN OF THE 21st CENTURY

Detective Don Scarcell had just seen his good friend, Dr. Silverio Mazzella, die in agony. That was a total waste of humanity. Don gazed solemnly at the full moon. The moon was doing tricks. It went to and fro and then it went hither, thither and yon. Maybe the moon was enamored with the turning of the century?

The moon had made Don’s head whirl. What was real? What was in his aching head? Maybe if the moon would only stop spinning, and fade into the sun, Don’s headaches would go away… No; the headaches persisted all night long. Luckily, alcohol and those great mega-pills finally let him greet the sandman.

Time had flitted by. Don spent all morning at his desk, doing paperwork that should be done by a woman instead of a great detective. Where the hell was his partner Clare today? Little did he know that Clare was trailing a suspect, and was in the process of calling him?

His cell phone rang, and it was his partner Clare. Don, I’m following a car that I suspect has just committed a robbery. I was stopped at a light, and I saw a huge black man taking off a ski mask as he ran out of a store. He had a gun tucked into his belt. At least, I think it was a gun. This is just a hunch. I’m not sure, but tell Lt. Dave anyway. I’m on Central Park South, just coming up to the museum. He’s driving rather slowly so as not to attract attention. He doesn’t know that I’m following him. The windows are heavily tinted which could be a problem. Get me back-up. It’s a black Mercury, license plate ALS 6635. Cut off the traffic… He’s picking up speed. I gotta go.

Don had never spoken a word. He didn’t have to. His work was cut out for him. In a flash he was at Dave’s desk explaining the situation. Explanations done, Don ran out to his car. On the way he saw Julio and grabbed him. C’mon, we’re chasing after someone."

Julio joined him. Who?

A black Mercury, ALS 6635, probable armed robbery.

The two detectives got into Don’s car and were in pursuit. Don zoomed at great speed with the siren on. Don thought they were almost caught up, but Clare called Don on the cell phone and said she followed the suspects, making a right turn onto 34th Street. They’d parked a block and a half from the Hudson River. Five men got out of the suspects car and went into a warehouse. She was parked across the street from the warehouse.

In twenty-two shakes of a lamb’s tail, Don and Julio were parked behind Clare. The two of them got out of Don’s car and into Clare’s car. Clare reported, Five men got out of the Mercury. Two were blacks, two were whites, and one was in-between. They were all rough looking.

Clare received a radio call from Lt. Dave Trombetti. He was at the place where the perp came out of the store. It was not a robbery. It was an assassination. Two white men were killed, after being taped and beaten savagely. Dave’s sidekick said that they might be Mafia. Seven police cars were now outside of the warehouse. The back was being secured.

Lt. Nick Moukas was in charge. The Lieutenant sent seven cops to the rear. The rest would split up and enter through the front. The three detectives, Don, Julio, and Clare were to go up the fire escape where there was a window on the second floor. The Lt. wanted the Three Musketeers to enter by the window. They had a three-minute head start, as of now. Ready, set… mark.

Clare led the way, because she could not jump up to the fire escape and pull herself up. Don and Julio had to lift and push her up. The Three Musketeers made it to the window, but now had to wait another forty-five seconds.

There was a thunderous noise at the rear of the building then a few seconds later there was a loud noise at the front door. A large force of cops was going in. The Three Musketeers climbed inside the window. No one was in sight. This would be a piece of pie.

Suddenly downstairs gunfire broke out… Broke out was an understatement. Automatic fire thundered, both in front and in the back. There had to be at least ten automatic weapons being fired at the same time. Cops were falling like flies. Lt. Nick Moukas screamed out loud, Everybody out! Retreat! He repeated, Retreat! Retreat! Everybody out now! Retreat!

The Three Musketeers no longer had a piece of cake. Instead they had a hot potato, since two automatic weapons had opened fire upon them. The bullets kept coming without a let-up. The Three Musketeers were well hidden but couldn’t move because they were pinned down by rapid fire. Don spoke with authority, We’ve got to get to the window. The window was only ten feet away, but it could have been ten miles; no difference.

One shooter was above Don but as he aimed, Julio shot him. The shooter fell dead. Julio saw the look of pain upon the dying mans face. Julio was in awe. He cringed as he saw the shooter grimace in extreme pain. Clare was hyperventilating. She couldn’t breathe. Don tried to comfort her, but whenever he moved the criminals tried to shoot him. More cops were behind them at the window. They tried to communicate as the firing diminished.

Don called to the cops outside the window, We’re pinned down. We can’t move. Get us some heavy weapons, and call the SWAT team. One cop went to call for help, and the other four men jumped in the window. They joined Don, Clare, and Julio. Once more all hell broke loose. The shooters had reloaded and now let loose a barrage that made the first one seem like it had just been a bunch of firecrackers. This barrage now pinned down seven cops instead of three. Two of the four new additions had their feet sticking out from their cover and had them shot to pieces. The two hurt cops were screaming in pain yet no one could help them. The five healthy cops with their guns drawn were unable to retaliate. Anytime they moved they were fired upon.

Time had passed and the SWAT team had arrived. The team had reinforced the front and the back, and was now ready to attack. The reinforcement up by the window however, could not even get close to the window.

Don and his crew were at a stalemate. They couldn’t move and were being out-shot by about three hundred to one. Those odds were horrific. The cops outside the window couldn’t even look in the window. How were they going to help? They were of no use whatsoever. This was a real stalemate, with the bad guys holding all the aces. Help was needed very, very badly.

Lt. Nick Moukas sent word up to the Lieutenants crew. Do not do anything. Army equipment is on the way. You will be getting grenades and bazookas to back you up; as well as gas masks. Just sit tight.

Sitting tight was their only choice. Not one of the seven cops dared to move, except for Clare. She was vomiting. Then there was complete silence.

The stillness was deafening. It was broken when Lt. Moukas, on the loudspeaker said, Come out with your hands over your heads. That statement was the reason for the next barrage that opened up on the police cars outside. All cops now hid from sight. Large fragments of police cars went flying into the air. Lt. Moukas commented to a cop next to him, I’ll take that as a no!

All of the cops, from lieutenants to patrolmen, did absolutely nothing for the next twenty minutes while waiting for reinforcements.

Time at this point did not fly by but crawled, especially for the cops pinned down inside the warehouse. Finally the U.S. Army’s CAVALRY arrived from the Armory. Gas masks were sent up to Don’s crew and distributed to the other cops. The masks were thrown in the window but not without the whistling of bullets going by. The four reinforcements grabbed their masks, but Don’s crew couldn’t reach theirs. One of the cops called to Don, We are going to use tear gas, grenades and bazookas. That’s when you go for the masks, got it?

Don stuttered, Got it.

The cop added, One more thing. When we fire the rockets do not… I repeat, do not raise your heads. You must crawl. Got it?

Absolutely.

Julio said to Don, We started with the tear gas. I can hear it down stairs. Whew, I can smell it. Holy shit! My eyes are on fire.

Grenades and bazookas were now letting off steam.

Clare had the best advantage. She crawled toward the masks and brought them back. They quickly put them on and breathed a sigh of relief.

The shooters that were shooting at Don’s crew had now retreated to safer ground. That was evidenced by the fact that steady streams of cops were pouring in through the window. Cops now filled the entire room. Explosions were heard all over. The cops were determined to win this war.

No more shots were being fired. The shooters were all coming out with their hands held high. They were all gasping for clean air. Their eyes were so full of tears that they couldn’t see where they were going.

Julio said to Don, Police work is easy… when you have the army helping you!

The party was over, and the good guys had won. Don’s crew still had their masks on, and trying to get out of the window was a problem. Don helped Clare through the window first, but next he and Julio had to help the cops who could not walk. The two officers picked up one of the wounded and brought him over to the fire escape. Then they picked up the other wounded officer and brought him to the window that went out to the fire escape.

GADZOOKS! There was a tremendous explosion downstairs in the rear. The building trembled and objects fell from above. The place was in total chaos and to make matters worse, a fire broke out. This fire grew and got so hot that it caused a container to explode, sending flames across the wall and onto a pile of munitions. Cops ran like crazy to get the wounded out. They did a good job and just in time too. The box of munitions blew, sending more flames all over the place. The fire was now monumental. Explosions followed and in just a few seconds, the building was just one tremendous roaring flame.

The fire had become so intense that they had to move several hundred feet away. Firemen were pouring water into the building with absolutely no effect. The building contained mostly gunpowder. The building was a huge munitions dump.

Don asked Julio, Where’s Clare?

Julio tried to speak but couldn’t get the words out. He was bleeding from his mouth and had it covered with a handkerchief. Crare ish wid Norma. He pointed to a spot alongside the ambulance.

Don saw Clare tending to Norma. It seemed that Det. Norma Sherah was bleeding profusely. He looked at Julio, What happened to your mouth?"

Lost a toot.

How can you lose a tooth?

I dunno.

Don spied Big Dave standing over Lt. Nick Moukas, who was crying like a baby. Don walked ever so slowly towards Lt. Dave. He held his hands out as if to say, Why is he crying?

One of the cops was his brother, said Dave.

Don felt sorry for his partner. He hugged her and wanted to know how she felt. Instead he said, Holy shit, Clare, you stink worse than friggin’ shit!

I guess I could use a bath.

Maybe two. I’ll ride with Julio. You can go with Norma… hey, what’s wrong with Norma?

She lost a small piece of her arm. Nothing serious.

Don walked back over to Dave who was gesturing him over. What’s up?

The Lieutenant looked old and tired. We lost Eric Laguna. That makes eight.

I’m sorry to hear that. But what I meant was what’s up with all of that fire power in one place?

Dave was at a loss for words. He slowly shook his head and then said, Did you notice that those scum looked like Middle Easterners? I don’t know for sure, but my instinct tells me that they are terrorists. I’ll bet my badge on it.

So you think that this is a terrorist hangout?

Yes I do, Don. I need to go over and check out the incident over on Central Park South. Would you like to come with me and check it out?

Sorry Dave. I’ve got something in my ass that’s killing me. I’ve got to take care of it.

No problem Don. I’m sure that I’ll find someone else.

Don looked for Clare and Julio, but they’d already gone. No problem. He’d take the next ambulance. After all, his ass was not too important to anyone but him. An empty ambulance pulled up, and Don walked toward it, but he was thrown aside for a more urgent case. Another cop was shot in the head. Don’s ass could wait. The attendant put the officer with the head injury into the ambulance and then asked Don if he needed a lift. Don nodded gratefully and was told to hop in. He did, but with great difficulty and much pain. Pain seemed to be a very big problem for Don, as he had a very low tolerance for pain… Zoom! They were off in a flash.

In the ambulance, Don asked the other cop who’d been shot, How do you feel?

The young man tried to speak. Tell my wife I love… There was silence.

Don leaned over and wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He reached over to touch the cop and feel for a pulse. There was none. What a shame. This kid probably hadn’t even gotten to see his twenty-fifth birthday. God had no right to do that. Don kept staring at him. At least the flow of blood from his wound had stopped. He looked very peaceful.

The ambulance attendant shouted out to the driver that there was no need to rush any longer. He lowered the young man’s eyelids; for he had died with his eyes looking toward heaven.

One thing that was certain was that no matter what else happened, come hell or high water, Don would make it a point to find the young man’s wife and tell her that his last words were that he loved her. Don checked his nameplate… J. Mark. He would never forget that name.

They were now at the hospital, but what was needed was the morgue. They brought J. Mark into the emergency room, where the doctors evaluated him and pronounced him dead on arrival. Don wanted treatment but first he had to call his wife, Mary.

After making the call, Don explained his situation to the doctor. The doctor told him to lower his pants, so he could see the wound. Don sprawled on the bed, on his stomach, with his ass skyward. The doctor took a very small needle and injected around the wound. Don didn’t feel anything, but the doctor showed him a piece of scrap metal with blood on it that was about the size of a dime. After a few stitches, Don could stay with J. Mark for as long as he wanted to.

The doctor asked, You had two scars, three inches above this wound. What were they?

A bullet… in and out.

As soon as the doctor was done sewing him up, Don accompanied the gurney carrying J. Mark to the morgue. He was hobbling as fast as he could to try to keep up with the orderly. Hey slow down please, but the orderly just kept rolling along… Hey, Asshole, see this gun? Keep walking fast and I’ll slow you down with a bullet up your ass… Got it?

The orderly slowed down considerably. Sorry. Is this okay, sir?

They finally reached the morgue. It was quite cool in there. Don saw a man dressed in white and asked, Can I use the phone?

Okay.

Don called the precinct and asked for the address and phone number of J. Mark. He got it and started to call the young man’s family. Then he realized this wasn’t an appropriate thing to do over the phone. He thought he should go in person, so he called his wife Mary, and asked for her advice. She agreed that he should go in person.

Don left John Mark to look for a ride. As luck would have it, there sat

Det.Norma Sherah, doing nothing but sleeping. Don startled her by shouting. She looked up at him and then went right back to sleep. That was what you would call a strong sedative.

Don began to look for another phone. He needed a ride to pick up his car, so he could go and pay a visit to John Mark’s family.

Don asked the nurse for a phone in order to call a cab. The bitchy nurse said, Not until you fill out these forms.

Don grabbed the phone. He made a call, and then told the nurse that he’d come back later to fill out those damned forms. He mumbled a few words as he stormed out to leave.

Don got a cab to take him to his car. In the cab, the driver asked Don, Did you hear about the nine cops that were killed?

Oh there were nine?

Yeah nine dead and a slew of wounded. It just happened. Didn’t you hear it on the news?

Don really didn’t want to talk about it, but being curious as to what the man knew, he asked, "Why did this happen?

Well it seems that a man killed two politicians, and then went to this ammunitions dump. When the cops arrived all hell broke loose, and the whole building burned down. They were terrorists. Those damned terrorists should all rot in hell.

Don didn’t want to respond, so he just made believe that he wasn’t interested. Right now, he just wanted to see John Mark’s family. That was primary. Finally there was silence, a thing that deserved to be called golden. Don saw his car. Hey, stop by that car on the right.

He paid the cab driver, got into his car, and was off to pay his respects to the Mark family. As he approached the address he had written on the paper, he noticed that the neighborhood had quickly changed, going from bad to beautiful in the course of two blocks. The Mark house was small but compact, showing many odd features.

Don parked the car in front and rang the bell. An old Asian woman who spoke with a slight Chinese accent answered the door. Inside, a very young oriental woman was crying with deep sorrow.

Don said, "Hello. My name is Detective Don Scarcell. May I come in?

The old lady let him in and with very dry eyes asked, Are you here for Johnny?

Yes.

Come in and meet his wife.

Don approached the young woman. She was very pretty, probably half Chinese and half something else. She was very petite. Hello, are you John’s wife? She nodded.

My name is Detective Don Scarcell. I was at the infamous shootout. I had a small wound, so I was in the ambulance with John on the way to the hospital when he died. At this point John’s wife cried so hard that Don could not go on. She cried long and hard occasionally holding her stomach. Don noticed that her stomach looked swollen and realized that she was probably pregnant. The old woman came to hold her daughter-in-law and give her solace.

The old lady said, You go now.

Don stood up and said, I’m leaving, but first I need to tell her something.

He knelt before John’s wife and took both of her hands in his and spoke gently, The last person that John spoke to before he died was me. The last thing that he said was ‘Tell my wife that I love her.’ Then he closed his eyes and went to sleep. Don stood, bent over, and gently kissed the woman on her forehead saying, and This is from John Mark. Then, he shook the old woman’s hand and without another word he was out the door.

As he turned to close the door, he saw the young woman holding a pillow tightly clenched over her face. He had to wipe away a tear or two before getting into his car.

Don walked to his car while gazing at the moon. Gee, what a full moon! This was a harvest moon, the best of this new century. Don stopped to admire nature in all of its finest. Yes, he was a lucky man. He could have died today, along with J. Mark and his best friend, Dr. Sil Mazzella, but instead he was in tune with Mother Nature. He contemplated the old century. Yes, he remembered it as if it were yesterday. He reminisced about his teenage years. It seems that just yesterday it was the 1970s. Oh, how he loved his mom and pop, Carmella and Mimmo Scarcella. [Pronounced Meem-oh Scar-chell-ah]

ONE

RETURNING TO THE 1970’s

Don’s dad was a great storyteller, and so he will relate the happenings of the 1970s, and then bring you up to the present.

"This story is about my son Don Scarcell. Actually, his name is Domenico Scarcella Jr., but he changed it because he’s ashamed of my name. He doesn’t want people to know that he’s a Sicilian. He never pronounced his name ‘Scar-chell-ah.’ He always said, ‘Scar-cell.’

Anyway, this story began in the 1970s. My son Donnie was a fine specimen of a man. He looked and acted as if he was the original ‘Adonis.’ To say he was good-looking would be an understatement. The muscles on this fine athlete glistened as he moved so stealthily. Women fell all over him, and why not, he looked just like ‘Tom Cruise.’ Donnie was a good boy and I was so proud of him… My Son-My Son!

All righty then, this story is about to take off. It takes place in New York City on the fifth floor of a walk-up apartment house on E.108th Street, just off of Second Avenue. My son lived with me and my wife, Carmella. Donnie always thought that we were too old to be parents and so he was ashamed of us. But deep in his heart he loved us very much. To him we were the best parents in the world.

Mom was always hugging and squeezing him. She loved to pinch his cheeks and kept doing it until he cried ‘Uncle.’ Mom kept telling him that he had to eat more, and he was too skinny.

Actually Donnie ate very well; it’s just that he was overly active, and just kept burning up all those calories. Never did a day go by that he didn’t do something strenuous. Most of his days were spent with his friend Dino. Dino had a very heavy accent, but Donnie didn’t mind being associated with that ‘Guinea.’ They both loved each other as brothers. The two of them tried to act as if they were born in America. They played, lived, laughed, and loved each other. However, their best aim in life was just to go ‘cruising’ for girls. This was their prime reason for being alive.

One day after quaffing a few beers, these two fine gents decided to visit the local topless bar. Upon entering the bar they met a few friends. It didn’t take long before this group took over the whole crowd."

Now Pop finishes his narration, and fades out of sight. We now see that Dino was the life of the party. He had everyone in stitches. He caught the eye of the topless dancer. She was indeed a knockout. Boy would I like to grab hold of her G-string, and give her a twirl. . . . Two of the boys offered to help.

Donnie couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He tried to move and talk, but he became impervious to everyone and everything around him. His eyes were riveted on that sexy figure that seemed to sashay to and fro, and then suddenly seemed to explode… first one way, and then another. How could she do that? She was comparable to any model in Playboy. He couldn’t stop staring, and the guys were now making fun of him because he appeared to be frozen. Master Cupid had fired an arrow into his heart. This young man was in a coma.

Dino, Joey and the rest of the guys danced around Donnie but he took no notice of anyone but this beautiful creature in front of him. Donnie’s eyes scanned her face. Surely this had to be a goddess. How could there be such a beautiful face on such a beautiful body? He walked closer to the stage. I’ve got to meet her or die trying, he thought. Was this a dream or something sent from heaven?

The dancer sensed that she had captivated this cool-looking young man. She came closer to him and smiled; a smile just for him. Then she did something she had never done before. She reached out and gently rolled her fingers across his face, and gently tickled him under his chin.

He stood like a statue, eyes transfixed, until she finished dancing. When she flitted off the stage he remained firmly entranced… until the guys came over and began making fun of him. This was not the Donnie they knew.

Joey, Dino, and the boys laughed and made jokes as they returned to the bar. Hey Donnie, come out of your trance and join us for a drink, they called out. Donnie didn’t quite seem to hear what they were saying but he understood what they wanted.

It was about an hour later, and the boys were feeling quite high. Suddenly the goddess materialized and appeared at Donnie’s side. She simply said Hi. Donnie caught by surprise, turned around and managed to blurt out a faint Hello.

He was now face to face with the dancer-goddess. He wanted to reach out and kiss her, and give her a hug, but only said, Hi, my name is Don.

My name is Maria, she said. But they call me Mary.

Donnie looked straight into Mary’s eyes, recovered some mobility in his speech, and proceeded to introduce himself again. Well, my name is Dominick but my friends call me Donnie.

He was still a statue. He wanted to tell her how much he liked her but his tongue seemed to be entangled in seaweed. Mary noticed him hesitate and said; I’ve seen you around the neighborhood and in the playground.

That’s impossible, he said. I would have surely noticed you.

Do you remember the time you hit that home run in the softball championship game? That was the winning run and it made you the neighborhood hero? Well, my friends and I were watching you boys. Since then, I’ve had my eyes on you.

The guys began to dance around Donnie and taunt him: Donnie’s got a girlfriend. Donnie’s got a girlfriend.

I wish that was true, Donnie mumbled.

Mary finished her drink and turned to the group. Well, boys, it was great meeting all of you. I hope to see you again.

I’d certainly love to see you again, Donnie replied quickly.

Mary thought it over for a moment and added, I’ll tell you what. I’m teaching at my dance studio tomorrow at 8 p.m. If you have time you can watch me teach a dance class. Here’s my card. With that, she turned and left. When she reached the door, she turned around and blew a kiss to the guys.

Donnie smiled and turned to his friends. I might not see you guys tomorrow night. I’ve got a strong feeling I’m going to be busy.

It was very dark and gloomy when Donnie left the bar, but not for him. For him it was like high noon. His feet did not touch the ground. He ran up the stairs two at a time. He couldn’t wait to tell Mom and Pop that he had seen an angel that came straight from heaven. As he burst into the room and saw his mother standing at the stove, he snuck up behind her and gave her a big hug and kiss.

And to what do I owe this honor? she asked.

Mom, I think I’m in love. I’ve found the girl of my dreams.

How long have you known this woman?

All my life, Donnie said. Or was it just a few hours?

"Do you mean to say you just met her? Is she at least Italian?

Donnie took a step back. He realized that he didn’t know anything about her, except that she was absolutely beautiful, and an excellent dancer. He thought that he might have heard Joey say, She’s part Hispanic and maybe something like Swiss or Irish. How was he to tell his mother that the girl he might someday want to marry was not Sicilian, or even Italian? This might possibly be a knife in his mother’s heart.

Mom, Donnie began, Don’t take it too seriously. Maybe I won’t even go out with her. After all, I just met her. Maybe I’ll find a nice Italian girl somewhere down the line. I guess that would make you happy huh?

She cupped her hands around her son’s face. Mimmo, I trust you. You go ahead, do what you think is best for you. Just make sure you do the right thing. Later Donnie approached his mother and decided to tell her that Mary was a topless dancer. When he told her, as expected, she hit the ceiling. He tried to calm her down, but to no avail. She ranted and raved, started to take off her shoe, raved some more, and then with a shoe held high she lunged at him. Donnie seeing the shoe aimed at his head, grabbed his mother’s arm and pushed her back. Although he didn’t mean to, he had thrown her very hard against the wall. She jumped up screaming; and was bleeding profusely from a cut on her head. He tried to calm her down, but she was violent.

When he saw the blood he turned and scanned the kitchen for a towel, some napkins, anything. Mom was now in vendetta heaven. She had trouble seeing with the blood coating her eyes and she grabbed the first thing she could feel. It happened to be the cast iron frying pan. Now with her brain on fire, she swung the heavy pan at him. He saw it coming and tried to duck, but he wasn’t quick enough. The cast iron frying pan hit him just above his left ear. It made a noise that sounded just like hollow thunder, and Donnie went down like a bag of slightly damp cement.

As she came to her senses Mom wiped her face, and then ran to the phone. She called Dino. Donnie was lying on the floor bleeding and unconscious, and she knew immediately that he was in great need of medical assistance.

It seemed like forever for Dino to arrive at the apartment. When he came in and saw Donnie in a pool of blood the size of Rhode Island. What happened to his head? I’ve got to get him to a hospital right away.

Dino picked up the phone and called an ambulance. Mom stood beside him shaking and dabbing at her own head wound. She was quiet now as she watched Dino bend down beside Donnie and begin to give him first aid. There was a loud thud and Dino looked around; Mom had collapsed.

The hospital waiting room was overflowing with an odd lot of humanity. It was so hot that Joey had to take off his shirt. Next to him Dino was sweating like a pig in heat. He saw a nurse coming and called out, How is Don Scarcell doing?

He’s doing as well as can be expected, she said. He has a bad concussion, and the doctor gave him ten stitches to close the wound. I’m sure he’ll be fine. The doctor said he might want to keep Mr. Scarcell a day or two for observation. He just needs a lot of rest, with no excitement. He’s worried about his mother. You’ll be able to see him for a few minutes. Just console him, don’t excite him.

They thanked the nurse and waited until they were permitted to see him, which was