“See if you can find a blanket so we can keep him warm.” Henry studied my face. “How are you doing? You don’t look so good yourself.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be right back.”

The layout of Gus’s house was a duplicate of Henry’s, so it didn’t take me long to find the bedroom. The place was a mess-bed unmade, clothes strewn everywhere. An antique chest of drawers and a tallboy were cluttered with junk. The room smelled of mildew and bulging trash bags. I loosened the bedspread from a knot of sheets and returned to the living room.

Henry covered Gus with care, trying not to disturb his injuries. “When did you fall?”

Gus flicked a pain-filled look at Henry. His eyes were blue, the lower lids as droopy as a bloodhound’s. “Last night. I fell asleep on the couch. Midnight, I got up to turn off the television and took a tumble. I don’t remember what caused me to fall. One second I was up, the next I was down.” His voice was raspy and weak. While Henry talked to him, I went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water from the tap. I made a point of blanking out my view of the room, which was worse than the other rooms I’d seen. How could someone live in such filth? I did a quick search through the kitchen drawers, but there wasn’t a clean towel or dishrag to be found. Before I returned to the living room, I opened the back door and left it ajar, hoping the fresh air would dispel the sour smell that hung over everything. I handed the water glass to Henry and watched while he pulled a fresh handkerchief from his pocket. He saturated the linen with water and dabbed it on Gus’s dry lips.

Three minutes later, I heard the high-wailing siren of the ambulance turning onto our street. I went to the door and watched as the driver double-parked and got out with the two additional paramedics who had ridden in the back.