Chapter 9

Hank Netter slowly opened his eyes and looked up at a bright light above him. For a moment he wondered exactly where he was before he remembered the kindly woman's face looking down at him earlier.

Bobby Helman and his wife Netty were making their way back to town from the weekend spent with their daughter when they swerved to avoid a large truck coming at them down the freeway almost in the middle of the road. Bobby cursed and swung the wheel over almost losing control of his own car before righting it and slowly getting back on track. It wasn't until they'd driven a few more hundred yards that they'd seen the car upturned at the side of the road and had stopped to investigate.

Netty, an ex nurse quietly took control of the situation and as Bobby bent down and crawled into the car to get the microphone to call for an ambulance, Netty set about assessing the damage.

The man who had been behind the wheel of the car had been thrown partially clear and now Netter lay with his legs still inside the vehicle and the upper half of his body clear and on the bare dirt ground. He had a bloody wound on the side of his head, but as Netty's practiced fingers gently explored the wound, she realised that her patient had been incredibly lucky and the bullet had merely creased him. She felt sure he would be concussed and have the mother of all headaches, but that he should make a full recovery from that particular wound. Exploring the rest of his body, she was amazed to find that other than a tenderness and swelling over his right ribs, nothing else appeared to be broken, although she knew enough to not try to move him.

And so Hank awoke briefly to see her smiling, worried face looking down at him.

'Hi there. Just rest. You're going to be just fine' she reassured him. He tried to sit up, but she held him down without too much trouble. 'We called for an ambulance from your car radio. Just lie still till they get here hmm?'

'Need t'radio in' Netter ground out, his teeth set against the pain in his head.

'You need to rest'.

'No…don't understand…..Need to radio……Metro…..boys life' he managed to grunt.

'Ok, ok, but then rest' Netty said and passed him the mic. She held Hanks head as he spoke into the device.

'This is…..Ocean 4….need patch through…..Captain Wilby'.

There was a pause and some crackling before another voice could be heard responding. Netter shut it up dead 'Cap…Netter. Truck….got away….hurt, I…..' his eyes closed and the mic slipped from his hand as Netty took hold of it. Uncertainly she spoke into the handset.

'Um…this is Netty Helman. I'm with your officer. I sent for an ambulance. He's hurt but not too badly I don't think. The crew should take him to Mercy hospital, I think'.

And the disembodied voice of the Captain had thanked her and taken details.

And now, goodness knew how much later, Hank awoke again, the pains in his head subsiding from a constant drilling to a dull ache which worsened each time he moved, breathed or thought. Gritting his teeth, he levered himself up until he was resting on his elbows on the narrow examination bed and looked around.

A nurse moved over to him and put her hands on his shoulders.

'Well good afternoon' she smiled warmly at him. 'And how do you feel?'

'Like my head's gonna blow off. Am I ok? Can I go?'

'Tell me your name' she asked as she busied herself with a thermometer and BP cuff.

'Hank Netter'.

'And where do you work Mr Netter?'

'It's just Hank. Mr Netter was my Dad, an' I'm a detective at DPD. The year is 1968, its December, I live in Duluth and the president is Richard Nixon. See, I still have all my marbles. Can I go now please?'

The pretty nurse smiled back at him. 'Maybe when the ER doctor has seen you. You took quite a fall there Mister. We can't be too careful. Just lie back and consider this a well earned rest for a while huh? Or do I need to cuff you to the gurney?'

Hank winked one mischievous eye at her, his pans telling him he should do as she told him. 'Now you're talking sweetheart!' he joked as he settled back onto the pillow.

oOo

Ted Mankiewitz and his friend Harry walked down to the small fishing boat they had moored on the lakeside. It was early afternoon and they'd had the morning to get their fishing tackle together and have a beer or two at the bar. Retired, and with the whole of the afternoon to go fishing, both men were happy, mellow and relaxed. As they walked over the pier and lowered their equipment carefully into the small row boat, two men bustled past them, carrying a heavy sack between them. So big was their burden that Harry almost toppled off the pier and into the water and Ted yelled at the rapidly departing men to watch their backs and be more careful in future. The larger of the two men yelled some curses back at him and they got into a motor boat at the end of the pier.

Harry got his balance back and looked at the two other men who were now climbing into the boat, the sack on the floor of the small craft between them.

'Hey isn't that old Andy's boat?' he asked as he squinted at the brightly painted hull.

'Be damned if I know' Ted replied, but he took a good look as the motor boat pushed off from the pier and headed out into the lake. 'But I aint never seen those two bozos before. And believe me, with their attitude I hope I never see 'em again'.

'Well what the hell are they doin' with Andy's boat?'

'Maybe he loaned it to 'em. Who cares? There's fish out there just waitin' to be caught. I can feel it. C'mon Harry. Time's a'wastin' as they say'.

Harry took a final look at the departing boat and clambered into the small row boat. Ted untied to mooring line and with long, powerful strokes, he pulled on the oars, pulling them out into the lake. Over Ted's shoulder, Harry kept his eye on the motor boat which seemed for some reason to have stopped about 100 yards from the shore. He picked up his binoculars and focussed on the two big men who were now standing unsteadily in the middle of the launch. As he watched, he saw them stoop and pick up the big sack, which seemed to be moving some in way now.

Harry hated cruelty to animals and over the years had seen several people take a litter of puppies or kittens out onto the lake to get rid of them. He put down the binoculars.

'Pull for the launch Ted. They're dropping something overboard an' I want to rescue it'.

Ted snickered. 'You and that soft heart! Is Lucy really gonna want another shed load of pups to deal with. Let it go buddy. Think of something else'.

Harry gave him a withering look. 'Just row huh? Let me worry about Lucy. Be quick, they've dumped it and they're pulling away. If we have luck on our side, the air in the sack'll keep it afloat till we get there'.

Ted grunted, but leaned his back into the strokes and within a minute they were pulling up at the spot Harry had fixed as where the men had dumped the sack. They cast around looking at the surface of the lake, but in the early afternoon breeze, the water was ruffled and broken, small waves encrusting the surface. It was difficult to see anything.

'It was round here, I know it was' Harry grunted. 'I fixed the spot!'

'Well it aint here now buddy. Just give it up huh?'

'No! Just gimme a minute. It was round here, I'm sure. It was a big, heavy s…over there, look, just going down!'

Ted looked in the direction Harry was pointing and saw the final few fibres of the sack disappearing beneath the surface. He took up the oars again and pulled over to the spot as Harry leaned over and pushed his hand elbow deep into the cold lake, fishing around until his fingers closed around the sodden fabric. He pulled, surprised at just how heavy the sack was, the boat in danger of tipping over as he leaned precariously over the side.

'Help me up huh? Shit what are they dumping? What kinda puppie'd weigh so much? Great Danes? Talk about a weight!'

Ted lent his weight to the procedure and pulled at the fabric which came up to the surface of the lake. Carefully, as though landing the biggest fish they'd ever caught, the old friends gave a concerted effort and pulled the sack and its contents onto the floor of their row boat.

Water rushed from the semi inflated sacking to puddle in the bottom of the boat and both men sat back. Several years of retirement had left them soft and under exercised and they panted with their exertions as they looked at their sodden prize. It lay between them, unmoving and for a moment Harry thought he may have been too late.

He rooted around in his fishing bag and pulled out a wickedly sharp bladed knife, inserting it into the ties at the top of the sack and cutting through them as though they were warm butter. He continued down the heavy rough fabric a ways until he could pull the material back. But when he did, his heart skipped a beat.

He was hoping to see some bundles of furry energy maybe curled up together. He was ready to pick up each of the small furry bodies and breathe life back into them, rubbing them dry on his shirt as he'd done before. He was not ready to see a blood soaked tangle of dark golden hair and a face which appeared to be black and blue and swollen out of all proportion.

Harry staggered backwards, almost falling over the wooden seat in the boat.

'What the hell? Oh my God, it's a boy'.

Ted peered at the curled up body still confined in part of the sacking. Ken's face had a bluish cast to it and bruises and cuts showed lividly over his pale face. Other bruises showed on his chest and arms and further down into the depths of his fabric coffin.

'Is he alive?' Ted asked quietly.

Tentatively Harry reached out and put a hand against Ken's neck. It felt cold and waxy beneath his fingers, but there, very faint was a weak heartbeat although he couldn't see any signs of the young man breathing.

'Here. help me get him outa there. We need to get some air into him' he said, taking hold of Ken's shoulders.

'Um….aren't we supposed to not move him, in case anything's broken?'

Harry gave his friend a disparaging look. 'And if he dies of asphyxiation will it really matter if we disturb a broken bone? Besides, he looks like he has plenty broken. They worked him over real well'.

Together the two men started to pull the blond's body from the sacking, laying him out as best they could in the narrow confines of the boat. It was hard going and there was very little room, but finally Harry managed to get into position. He sealed up his patient's nose, straightened the long blond neck back and blew into Ken's mouth, hoping he was doing the procedure right. He'd taken a first aid course once, but had never actually had to do anything like this for real. It felt wrong and dangerous, but he desperately wanted this young man to live.

Repeating the procedure again he asked Ted to watch to see if the chest rose any and was about to breathe another breath into the body when he felt it convulse beneath him and a trickle of dirty lake water ran out of the corner of the bloody mouth. He turned the boy over on his side, hardening his heart to the terrible groan that the movement elicited and as he sat with the young body propped against his knee, Ted rowed for home with a speed which would have put Olympic oarsmen to shame.