“So the only room available at the hotel was on the third floor,” said Johnny. “And that wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t come with a balcony. I hate balconies, Mrs. Poole—Marge. I hate them cause they make me feel dizzy when I stand on them.”
“So don’t stand on them,” Tex suggested.
“Exactly what I keep telling him,” Jerry grumbled.
“But I like to look at the birds. I love birds. They relax me. And I like the colors.”
“Will you just get to the good part already?!” Jerry cried.
“So we tried to change rooms, only the two guys next door said no.”
“Yeah, real sweethearts, those two.”
“But what can you do, right?” said Johnny. “So we figured if they say no, that’s it. I better don’t go near the window—and that balcony.”
“So suddenly last night,” said Jerry, taking over the narrative thrust of the conversation, “I hear this strange noise coming from next door, and so I put my ear to the door, as one does.”
“One of those connecting doors,” Johnny explained. “Very thin. Isn’t that right, Jer?”
“Yeah, real thin. You can hear pretty much everything that goes on in the next room. So there’s a lot of shouting and stumbling around, so I figure those two idiots have gotten into a fight.”
“Probably one of them felt sorry he didn’t give us their room, and the other didn’t agree,” said Johnny.
“So we decide to bust into the room, wanting to break up the fight.”
“And maybe muscle those guys out and into our room so we can take theirs.”
“But instead of those guys duking it out they’ve got Little Lord Fauntleroy over here and his face and shirt are full of blood and he looks half dead. They were trying to kill him!”
“So I just followed my instincts,” said Johnny, “and knocked both those guys’ blocks off and dumped them into the closet for safekeeping.”
“You mean…” said Marge.
“Yeah, we saved this weird little dude’s life,” said Johnny proudly.
Marge and Tex were momentarily speechless, then turned to their celebrity guest, who looked pretty dead to me, actually.
“He stopped moving twenty minutes ago,” Jerry announced. “So we figured you could maybe take a look at him or something? You are still a doctor, aren’t you, Mr. Marge?”
Tex, if he took umbrage at being addressed as Mr. Marge, didn’t show it. Instead, he moved over to the bed and started examining the deathly pale British blue blood.
“Why didn’t you take him to a hospital?” Marge wanted to know. A very apt question, I thought.
“Because we figured if we did that they’d end up blaming us for what happened to the dude,” said Jerry.
“Yeah, people tend to think: once a criminal, always a criminal,” Johnny said. “It’s sad but that’s the way it is.”
Brutus had the decency to look a little uncomfortable at this.
“Something really weird is going on with this guy,” said Tex after his first cursory examination. “What were these people doing to him? Did you see?”
“Well, when we burst into that room they were holding him up, and he was jerking around pretty violently,” said Johnny. “Almost like he was having a seizure or something. I figured they’d just finished beating him up something real bad.” He smiled at Marge. “When I used to beat up people they reacted exactly the same way. Jerking and shaking. Though sometimes they’d just lie real still—trying to make me think they were dead.”
“He doesn’t have any abrasions or contusions,” said Tex musingly, “and it does look as if he’s been the victim of a seizure, just as you say.”
“Is he dead?” asked Johnny.
“No, he’s still breathing, but we do need to get him to a hospital immediately. I can’t do a lot for him here, I’m afraid.”
“Can you take him to a hospital?” asked Jerry.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” said Marge, and immediately disappeared from the room.
“They’ll want to know how he got here,” said Johnny.
“Maybe you can say you found him lying by the side of the road?” Jerry suggested.
But Tex shook his head.“I can’t do that. I’m sorry, fellas.”
Jerry and Johnny sighed deeply.“Better tell them the truth?” Johnny suggested.
“Yeah, I guess there’s nothing else for it,” his colleague agreed.
“They’ll throw us in jail again,” Johnny warned.
“Then so be it,” said Jerry. “At least we will have saved a life tonight.” He then cast a reproachful look at his friend. “But why did you have to take that watch and that laptop…”
“For safekeeping, Jer!”
“Just keep telling yourself that.”
“No, I’ll keep telling the cops,” Johnny corrected him.
Marge re-entered the room.“The ambulance is on its way.” She directed an apologetic look at her two guests. “And my brother, too, I’m afraid.”
“You’ll put in a good word for us, won’t you, Marge?” said Johnny. “You can be our character assassination.”
“Character witness,” Jerry corrected him.
“I’ll tell him what you told me,” said Marge. “The rest is up to you, I’m afraid. And I really hope you’ve told me the truth and have left nothing out.”