"Just for a couple of days. Won't cost you a cent."
"What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Lennox. Don't make it tough."
"I asked you what the hell you're talking about. City Hospital! Is this your idea of a funny?"
"Tell him," Salerno repeated.
"We know you're writing these letters," Fink said.
"You know I'm writing—" Lennox was staggered. "You know I'm writing the letters? To myself?"
Fink nodded.
"You always smile at the wrong time," Lennox said slowly. "This is a joke-type joke at the wrong time. Yes?"
"We'll talk it over down at the hospital."