Maybe if the old bitch had kept her mouth shut her daughter might have been alive today.
It was the night after that about eleven thirty, that my telephone began to ring.
I had just about fogged off and I cursed, reaching for the phone.
Her voice came through in a scared whisper.
"Joney, I'm bleeding."
The sleep shot out of my head like a bullet.
"What's the matter?"
"I went down to Mexican Town this afternoon and now something's wrong. I haven't stopped bleeding and I'm frightened."
I sat up in bed.
"Where are you?"
"I checked into the Westwood Hotel this afternoon.
Room nine-o-one."
"Get back into bed. I’ll be right down."
"Please hurry, Joney.
Please."
The Westwood is a commercial hotel in downtown L.A.
Nobody even looked twice when I went up in the elevator without announcing myself at the desk.
I stopped in front of Room 901 and tried the door.
It was unlocked. I went in.
I never saw so much blood in my life.
It was all over the cheap carpeting on the floor, the chair in which she had sat when she called me, the white sheets on the bed.
She was lying on the bed and her face was as white as the pillow under her head.
Her eyes had been closed but they flickered open when I came over.
Her lips moved but no sound came out.
I bent over her.
"Don't try to talk, baby.
I’ll get a doctor.
You're gonna be all right."
She closed her eyes and I went over to the phone.
There was no use in just calling a doctor.
My father wasn't going to be happy if I got our name into the papers again.
I called McAllister. He was the attorney who handled the firm's business in California.
His butler called him to the phone.
I tried to keep my voice calm.
"I need a doctor and an ambulance quick."
In less than a moment, I understood why my father used Mac.
He didn't waste any time on useless questions. Just where, when and who.
No why.
His voice was precise.
"A doctor and an ambulance will be there in ten minutes.
I advise you to leave now.
There's no point in your getting any more involved than you are."
I thanked him and put down the phone. I glanced over at the bed.
Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be sleeping.
I started for the door and her eyes opened.
"Don't go, Joney.
I'm afraid."
I went back to the bed and sat down beside it. I took her hand and she closed her eyes again.
The ambulance was there in ten minutes. And she didn't let go of my hand until we'd reached the hospital.
3.