"How could it happen?" The Ron-voice was raging. "How?"
"I don't know. But you better meet me here in ten minutes—"
Ron jabbed Shock in the side, and the tall boy slammed the receiver back into place with a relieved sigh.
"I don't get it," he said. "Who was that guy?"
"Me," Ron said, with a grim smile. He handed Shock the money, and watched him depart, still looking baffled. Then he went to the locker and removed the gun, stuffing it inside his jacket. It bulked large against his narrow chest.
He raced through the streets back to the medical center, heading for Exit N and the morgue.
Ron was waiting, gun poised, behind the empty slab. A shadow covered the dim light behind the glass-plated door, and the Ron-body entered the silent room.
He saw his own hand reaching out to flick on the light switch. He saw his own face register dismay and annoyance at the quiet scene.
Then the Ron-body turned and was about to leave.