Chapter 6
IN the same receiving hospital cubicle where it had all started, McCord suffered the ministrations of Doc Stein and listened to Stein’s caustic comments on the dumbness of cops in general.
“The guy sapped you down and then put his foot in your face as an afterthought.”
It seemed that the sapping-down was the reason for McCord’s recurrent dizziness and nausea. Preoccupied with the bruise, which showed, McCord had been unaware of the minor fissure in his skull, which didn’t. He was aware of it now, for the gnome-like police surgeon was apparently taking a fiendish delight in exploring the newly shaven area.
Flat on his belly, McCord watched a pair of neat, black-shod feet— all he could see of Captain O’Meara— and hoped Stein’s razor had not given him a tonsure effect. He felt t
