Mary Clark - The Shadow of Your Smile

I’m starting to remember, he thought. That car that was parked across the street when Renée slapped me. It looked familiar. She would have accepted a ride from him. If he suspected that she knew, he might have told her that he’d pay her off to keep quiet about his insider trading.

My brother, Greg.

Dr. Monica, one more thing,” Nan Rhodes said. “Sophie Rutkowski called this morning. She wouldn’t say what it was about, but she sounds upset. I promised that you’d call her back when your office hours were over.”

“I’ll do that. You run ahead. It’s been a busy day,” Monica replied. Nan had just relayed Ryan’s message to her: “The next time you lie for Dr. Farrell…” She felt stressed out and humiliated, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to confide to Nan why she was avoiding Ryan Jenner’s calls.

Nan wanted to protest but, seeing the expression on Monica’s face, decided it would be better to leave her alone. She probably needs some time to herself, Nan thought. In the morning, after the two detectives came to the office, she had immediately called John Hartman to see if he knew why they were there. She had not seen Hartman over the weekend because he’d been in Philadelphia, visiting an old friend who was also a retired detective.

Hartman told Nan that he had suggested to his former partner, Detective Carl Forrest, that they check the security cameras at the hospital and that had led to seeing Sammy Barber get out of his car and follow Monica. He had then tried to calm her by saying that they hoped they had scared him off from attacking her again.

“John, you’re telling me that thanks to you they traced this Barber guy?”

“Nan, they probably would have thought of it themselves,” Hartman answered. “But, be that as it may, you see Dr. Farrell at least eight hours a day, five days a week, and some Saturdays. You’re in the position to be on the watch for anyone who might be a danger to her.”

Hartman then suggested that they have dinner together, “if it isn’t one of your nights at Jimmy Neary’s with your sisters.”

It was an invitation that Nan had both been hoping for, and expected would come. Now, reluctant as she was to leave Monica, she was also eager to go home and freshen up before John came for her.

“Well then, I’ll see you in the morning, Dr. Monica,” she said. She was about to add, “Be sure to double-lock the door behind me,” but pressed her lips together. I’m sure she’s had enough advice from those detectives, she decided.

Alone in the suddenly quiet office, with the phones no longer ringing and no small patients scampering through the reception room, Monica went into her private office, put her elbows on the desk, and rested her chin on her hands.

The import of what the detectives had told her, that a hit man had tried to kill her, was beginning to sink in. Scott has to be behind this, she thought. Who else would have any interest in wanting to hurt me? He did call out of the blue only a few minutes after I got home Thursday night. I was so foolish to let him come over to the apartment. Maybe I was lucky that he didn’t try to hurt me then. God knows, he was obsessed with me after Dad died. He phoned twenty times a day, and even followed me around in the street…

He’s the reason I didn’t take the job at the hospital in Boston. I had to get away from him. He obviously needs psychiatric help. But I do know one thing. He’s not going to drive me out of New York. I love the hospital. I have a good practice. I have plenty of friends.

Inevitably, that thought led to the situation with Ryan Jenner. Why would I be so stupidly unprofessional as to ask Nan to lie for me to Ryan? she asked herself. I’m acting like a spurned girlfriend, when in fact I’ve never even had a single date with him. I’m sure he understands that I didn’t want any gossip about us in the hospital. I’m certain that when he really thinks about it, he doesn’t want it, either.

I have both his home and cell numbers. I’ll call tomorrow and apologize. I’ll simply say that I was concerned about the gossip but that I had no right to be rude to him. I’m sure he’ll be more gracious than I’ve been, and that will be that…

Monica sighed as she fished into her pocket for the slip of paper Nan had handed her with Sophie Rutkowski’s number on it. Nan had said that Sophie sounded nervous and upset. Monica found the paper, laid it on her desk, and began to dial. Do I dare hope that she’s remembered something about Olivia Morrow that would help me to learn about my grandparents? But I know that’s not going to happen.

Sophie answered her phone on the first ring. The strain in her voice was obvious to Monica even when she only uttered the simple word “Hello.”

“Sophie, this is Dr. Farrell. Is anything wrong?”

“Doctor, I feel like a thief. I don’t know what to do.”

“Sophie, no matter what you tell me, I am certain that you are not a thief,” Monica said firmly. “What’s going on?”

“I have another job on Saturday afternoons at Schwab House. After I finished it, I decided to go into Ms. Morrow’s apartment and tidy it up. I have a key, of course. I know people will be going through it who will want to buy it, and people will also be there who may want to buy her furniture and so on… I didn’t want them to see an unmade bed, or a pillowcase with blood on it.”

“Sophie, that was very nice of you,” Monica assured her. “If you took that pillowcase to wash, no one would ever believe that you wouldn’t return it.”

“Doctor, that’s not what I’m saying. That pillowcase was missing . This morning I called Dr. Hadley to see if he had taken it.”

Monica felt suddenly chilled. “What did Dr. Hadley say?”

“He got very mad. He said I had no right to be nosing around the apartment. He told me to leave my key at the desk and if I tried to go into Ms. Morrow’s apartment again, he’d have me arrested for trespassing.”

“Did he tell you that he had taken the pillowcase?” Monica asked, her thoughts filled with the image of Olivia Morrow’s face in death and the evidence that she had bitten her lower lip.

“No, that’s the problem. If he didn’t take it, someone else did, and if anything else is missing, they may blame me, Doctor. I’m so worried. I only went in because I wanted everything to be just so in Ms. Morrow’s home. But you see, I did take something and I’ve already turned in the key and I don’t know what to do now.”

“What did you take, Sophie?”

“I took a pillow that had blood on it, the one that had been covered with the pink pillowcase. I knew Ms. Morrow wouldn’t want anyone to see it. Blood always shows on pillow fabric.”

“Sophie,” Monica asked quickly, “did you throw that pillow out?”

“No, I brought it home, Doctor.”

“Sophie, this is very important. Put that pillow in a plastic bag and hide it. Don’t tell anyone, especially Dr. Hadley, that you have it. No, better still, give me your address. I’m going to take a cab up to your apartment right now and pick it up.”

“Doctor, why would you want a soiled pillow?” Sophie protested.

“Sophie, I honestly can’t answer that right now. It’s just something I have to work out myself. But please trust me.”

“Of course, Doctor. Have you got a pen? I’ll give you my address.”

An hour and a half later, all thoughts of dinner forgotten, Monica was holding the stained pillow with gloved hands over two pillows piled on her own bed, in the same position as she remembered the ones that had been under Olivia Morrow’s head.