“Tomorrow, baby. The Doc has to have a little time off. If there’s anything you want, you tell me. I’m boss of this floor. What I say goes.”
“I want Salzer,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control.
“Tomorrow, baby. Now, settle down. I gotta little shot for you, and then you’ll sleep.”
“He thinks he’s a detective,” Hopper said, suddenly scowling. “He says Dr. Salzer has murdered someone.”
“Very disrespectful, but what does it matter?” Bland said, taking a hypodermic syringe from its case.
“But it does matter. That’s hallucinations,” Hopper said crossly. “It says so in this book. I don’t see why I should have him in with me. I don’t like it. He may be dangerous.”
Bland gave a short barking laugh.
“That’s funny, coming from you. Button up, baby; I gotta lot to do.” He screwed in the needle and filled the syringe with colourless liquid.
“I shall complain to Dr. Salzer,” Hopper said. “My father wouldn’t like it.”
“Nuts to your father, and double nuts to you,” Bland said impatiently. He came over to me. “All right, let’s have your arm: the right one.”