“I’m drunk now,” Bill said. “But you go up and see Cohn. He wants to see you.”
“All right,” I said. It was just a matter of climbing more stairs. I went on up the stairs carrying my phantom suitcase. I walked down the hall to Cohn’s room. The door was shut and I knocked.
“Who is it?”
“Barnes.”
“Come in, Jake.”
I opened the door and went in, and set down my suitcase. There was no light in the room. Cohn was lying, face down, on the bed in the dark.
“Hello, Jake.”
“Don’t call me Jake.”
I stood by the door. It was just like this that I had come home. Now it was a hot bath that I needed. A deep, hot bath, to lie back in.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.