Time and Money

To the left he spotted Smuts on his back in a slightly tilted bed that allowed him to watch television comfortably. As he stepped forward he realized Smuts was unaware of his presence. Riley made his way to block full view of the screen, and stood put without saying a word. He waited for some sort of reaction from the man who tried to kill him. He was surprised at the old man's response. "It took you long enough to find me." The old man's voice was weak, yet easy to hear. They played a game of who would blink first. The old man won within only a few seconds. "Take a seat. We've got much to talk about." While anger and tension still remained a part of his feelings towards the old man, Riley became aware of unexpected curiosity that took center stage. He told himself it was not supposed to be this way. His feet did not appear interested in cooperating with the old man's offer. He stood motionless. "The visiting hours are limited. Don't just stand there, take a seat or say something." Riley shook out of the daze-like condition to move towards a chair that was off to the side. The old man's face hinted of a smile, but that was not for certain. He shut off the television with a remote control device that he kept in his hand for a short time. Then he tossed it on the bed, alongside his right leg. "Good." He cleared his throat before he continued. "Pull the chair closer. My voice isn't as strong as it once was." Riley agreed. "If you're at all interested, I don't have much time left. Nothing I can do about that." Riley was not interested in any of that. He was more interested in asking a few questions, "Why did you set me up, why me?" "Oh, I see. So this is all about you." "You had them killed, and then you tried to take my life. Why did you do that?" The old man kept a frozen look, unwilling to admit to murdering or attempting to murder anyone. He may be old with a short time to live, but he was not foolish. He had another agenda. "Do you remember the first time you wiped your ass after taking a crap?" Riley's surprised look needed no further explanation. "I do." The old man smacked his lips. "I found that occasion to be quite liberating, no longer dependent on someone to do something for me." He looked off for a split second, and then reset his eyes on Riley. "Today, someone I don't even know has got to wipe my ass. I'm once again dependent on someone to look after me." He coughed a few times as his eyes watered a little. "Hand me the Kleenex," he said as he pointed to a box set aside to his left. Riley handed over the box without much sympathy. "For you, this is good. You won't be harming people anymore. You'll die right here." His voice was full of fury. "You've got a good point. I have to give it to you." He coughed up some phlegm into a piece of tissue. Then he carried on. "But I still can think and use my own money anyway I want." He pointed a finger at his head and then rolled his thumb over his index and middle fingers to emphasize the two points. Riley sensed the old man felt empowered, and he was not glad about that. "Tell me about the women." The old man rolled his eyes. "She never gave me a chance to show I could change." "Who," Riley snapped. "Adrianne Browde, one of my former wives." The answer was said in a matter-of-fact manner. "If she only gave me a chance, but she didn't." "You've been married more than once before?" He shrugged his shoulders as if the fact was unimportant. "So you had her killed?" The old man shook his head, no. "No one told me she died, too bad." Riley thought otherwise. "What about Leah and Flo?" "To rub my face in the dirt, she took away from me the two girls." "Leah and Flo?" The old man looked quizzically at Riley. "Of course," Riley added. "You got so pissed off at them you had them killed!" He paused. "So why did you send me to interview them if you were going to murder them? That doesn't make sense." "As I said before, I did not kill anyone." He coughed again, but this time with a greater problem than before. He wheezed almost uncontrollably. Riley waited to say something. "Sure." He knew the old man wouldn't confess to anything. "What about me? Why did you need me, why did you pick me, and why did you want me killed?" The old man continued to cough throughout Riley's questions. Then, he grabbed an extension cord with a button at the end. He pressed it a few times. In about twenty seconds a caregiver entered the room and rushed to his side. The caregiver said to Riley, "You'll have to leave now. Mr. Smuts is not feeling well. Come back another time, perhaps tomorrow or the next day." She attended to calming down the old man. Disappointed, Riley left the old man in room 427. As he walked to the elevator he asked himself, Maybe, I shouldn't care about any of this. He's going to die soon and won't hurt anyone else. His rubbed his eyes to try to get himself to agree, but it did not seem to matter. There was more he needed to know.