Laara shook her head.
"Wait a minute!" Heck cried. "The doc's still here with Mr. Fanetti, isn't he?"
"I think so. They have to do something for Fanetti's legs before he can be moved."
"Poor Fanetti," Heck said, and took Laara's hand, and teleported from her office to his.
Fanetti was sitting up. His trousers had been removed and a sheet was draped over his legs. His face had an unhealthy pallor, as if he'd lost too much blood and needed a transfusion—which probably was the case.
"How are you, Fanetti?" Heck said.
Fanetti shrugged. "I been hit before," he told them, a little proudly.
The doctor said: "I've sent for an ambulance. This man needs three or four days in the hospital. He'll be all right after that."
"Fanetti, listen," Heck pleaded. "I need help. I need to know where Scarface Willy hangs out. I need to know badly."