Free Flynn's World by Gregory McDonald Page B

him very well. He said he thought you would want to know.”
    “I’ll go directly there. Postpone my afternoon schedule, will you, Cocky, old lad?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I’ll let you know if Grover needs anything from the Sympathy Brigade.”
    “Should I notify Captain Walsh?”
    “Lord, no,” said Flynn. “He’ll suspect me of stealing Grover’s appendix or something.”
    Dr. Huong waited for him in the foyer.
    “I’m sorry,” Flynn said. “I must leave you for now. But I will want to talk to you again.”
    “Anytime,” she said.
    Going through the door with her, he said, “I’m glad to see Loveson has a friend.”
    “I am his friend,” she said. “I’m not very good at investigating things, not in this century, anyway, I’m focused on the eighteenth century, but please let me help in any way I can.”
    Flynn said, “There is something you could do for me. Would you prepare me a list of names of people who think they might have been awarded the Samson Chair currently occupied by Professor Loveson if he had retired on time?”
    “Of course. I’d only be guessing. Do you think it might be that simple?”
    Flynn said, “There’s not so much difference among centuries as people might think. ‘Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.’”

NINE
     
    “Professor Loveson. Sergeant Whelan.” Flynn acknowledged both men sitting on a bench in the hall outside the Emergency Room at Common Wealth Hospital. “What are you doing here? You look like two sugar cubes awaiting a hot cup of coffee.”
    “Coffee.” Grover groaned. “Oouuu.” He had a sizable bump over his left eye. In his lap he cradled his left wrist in his right hand.
    “Nice of you to come along, Inspector Flynn.” Loveson had cuts on his right cheekbone and chin. Dried blood remained on his face, shirt, suit coat, and the handkerchief he held in his hand.
    “Which of you won?” Flynn asked.
    Grover gave Flynn a sour glance. “Not funny, Flynn.”
    “Richard saved my life,” Loveson said.
    “‘Richard’ is it, now?”
    “I was crossing the road. I had no idea Richard was anywhere about. Suddenly I felt this whoosh behind me, a big push against my back. Richard picked me up. He ran a few steps with me in his arms. He tripped on the curb. We both sprawled on the sidewalk. Richard broke his wrist, I’m sure. He was unconscious for a few moments, weren’t you, Richard?”
    Richard winced as he nodded his head.
    “And why, ‘Richard,’ were you playing football with the Professor?”
    “Someone was trying to hit him with a car.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Accelerating zero to sixty on that narrow, short road? The car was aimed right at him.”
    “I did hear a car accelerating excessively, Inspector.”
    “Can either of you describe the car?”
    “Small,” Grover said. “Blue.”
    “Anything of the license plate?”
    “That’s why I tripped over the curb,” Grover moaned. “I was looking.”
    “Got nothing of it, eh?”
    “If I did, it was knocked out of my head. Oh, my head is killing me.”
    Flynn looked around the empty waiting room. “So why are you just sitting here?”
    “Insurance,” Loveson said. “Something about Richard’s insurance. They’re having to play with the electronic toy to see if it’s all right for him to be hurt in the City of Cambridge. Is that right, Richard?”
    “But he is hurt in the City of Cambridge,” Flynn said.
    “I’m an employee of the City of Boston, hurt in the City of Cambridge,” Grover said bitterly. “Was I on duty?”
    “What difference does that make?” Flynn asked. “You have a concussion and a broken wrist.”
    Jaws tight, Grover said, “I’m in Cambridge!”
    “And you, Professor. I should say your face needs a stitch. Where are you supposed to be under the circumstances? The Harvard Barber College?”
    “I insist they take care of Richard first. He’s the hero.”
    “Yes,” Flynn said. “You’re a hero, Richard. How long have you been waiting?”
    “A