Эд Макбейн: Lady, Lady, I Did It!

“Yes?”

“Is he in?” Carella asked.

The woman smiled. “You don’t have an appointment, do you?”

“No,” Meyer said. “Is the doctor in?”

The woman smiled again. “Yes, the doctor is in.”

“Well, would you tell him we’re here, please?”

“Can you tell me what this is in reference to?”

“Police business,” Meyer said flatly.

“Oh?” The woman’s light eyebrows moved ever so slightly. “I see.” She paused. “What... sort of police business?”

“This is a personal matter we’d like to discuss with the doctor himself, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m afraid you’re talking to ‘the doctor himself,’ “ the woman said.

“What?”

“I’m Dr. Madison.”

“What?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “What is it you want, gentlemen?”

“I think we’d better go into your office, doctor.”

“Why? My nurse is out to lunch, and my next appointment isn’t until two o’clock. We can talk right here. I assume this won’t take long, will it?”

“Well, that depends...”

“What is it? An unreported gunshot wound?”

“It’s a little more than that, Dr. Madison.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” Carella took a deep breath. “Dr. Madison, did you perform a criminal abortion on a girl named Eileen Glennon last Saturday?”

Dr. Madison seemed mildly surprised. Her eyebrows moved up an eighth of an inch, and the smile came to her mouth again. “I beg your pardon,” she said.

“I said, Dr. Madison, did you perform a criminal abortion on—”

“Yes, certainly,” Dr. Madison replied. “I perform criminal abortions every Saturday. I have special rates for weekend curettage. Good day, gentlemen.”

She was turning on her heel when Carella said, “Hold it right there, Dr. Madison.”

“Why should I?” Dr. Madison said. “I don’t have to listen to these insults! If this is your idea of a—”

“Yeah, well, you’re liable to be a little more insulted,” Meyer said. “Eileen Glennon is dead.”

“I am very sorry to hear that, but I have no idea who the girl is or why you should possibly connect me—”

“Her mother gave us your name, Dr. Madison. Now she didn’t pick the name out of a hat, did she?”

“I have no idea where she picked it — or why. I don’t know anyone named Eileen Glennon, and I have certainly never performed a criminal abortion in my life. I have a respectable practice and I wouldn’t endanger it for—”

“What’s your speciality, Dr. Madison?”

“I’m a general practitioner.”

“Must be pretty tough, huh? For a woman doctor to make a living?”

“I do very well, thank you. Your solicitude is wasted. If you’re finished with me, I have other things to—”

“Hold it, Dr. Madison. Stop running for that back room, huh? This isn’t gonna be that easy.”

“What do you want from me?” Dr. Madison asked.

“We want you to tell us what happened here Saturday morning.”

“Nothing. I wasn’t even here Saturday morning. Office hours start at two.”

“What time did Eileen Glennon arrive?”

“I have no idea who Eileen Glennon is.”

“She’s the girl you operated on last Saturday,” Meyer said. “She’s the girl who dropped dead of a uterine hemorrhage in the park six blocks from here. That’s who she is, Dr. Madison.”

“I performed no operation last Saturday.”

“What time did she get here?”

“This is absurd, and a waste of time. If she wasn’t here, I’m certainly not going to say she was.”

“Did you know she was dead?”

“I didn’t even know she was alive. I’m sure she was a very nice little girl, but—”

“Why do you call her little, Dr. Madison?”

“What?”

“You just called her a nice little girl. Why?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. Wasn’t she a nice little girl?”

“Yeah, but how did you know?”

“How did I know what?” Dr. Madison said angrily.

“That she was only sixteen years old.”

“I didn’t, and I don’t. I never heard of Eileen Glennon until just a few moments ago.”

“Didn’t you read yesterday’s paper?”

“No. I rarely have time for anything but the professional journals.”

“When’s the last time you did read a newspaper, Dr. Madison?”

“I don’t remember. Wednesday, Thursday, I don’t remember. I just told you—”

“Then you didn’t know she was dead.”

“No. I told you that already. Are we finished now?”

“What time did you operate on her, Dr. Madison?”

“I didn’t. Nor do I see how you can possibly show that I did. You just told me the girl is dead. She can’t testify to having had an abortion, and—”

“Oh, she came here alone then, huh?”

“She didn’t come here at all. She’s dead, and that’s that. I never saw her or heard of her in my life.”

“Ever hear of Claire Townsend?” Carella snapped.

“What?”

He decided to take a chance. She had just told him she hadn’t seen a newspaper since the middle of last week, before Claire was killed. So, out of the blue, and knowing it was a wild gamble, he said, “Claire Townsend’s still alive. She told us she arranged an abortion for Eileen Glennon. With you, Dr. Madison. Now how about it?”

The room went silent.

“I think you’d better come downtown and discuss this with Claire personally, huh?” Meyer said.

“I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think Claire would tell us, huh? Well, she did. Now how about it?”

“I had nothing to do with the girl’s death,” Dr. Madison said.

“No. Then who committed the abortion?”

“I had nothing to do with her death!”

“Where’d you perform the operation?”

“Here.”

“Saturday morning?”

“Yes.”

“What time?”

“She got here at ten.”

“And you operated when?”

“At about ten-fifteen.”

“Who assisted?”

“I don’t have to tell you that. There was a nurse and an anesthetist. I don’t have to tell you who they were.”

“An anesthetist? That’s a little unusual, isn’t it?”

“I’m not a butcher!” Dr. Madison said angrily. “I performed the kind of operation she could have got from a gynecologist in a hospital. I observed every rule of proper aseptic surgical technique.”

“Yeah, that’s very interesting,” Carella said, “since the girl had a septic infection in addition to the goddamn hemorrhage. What’d you use on her? A rusty hatpin?”

“Don’t you dare!” Dr. Madison shouted, and she rushed at Carella with her hand raised, the fist clenched in a hopelessly female attack, her eyes blazing. He caught her arm at the wrist and held her away from him, trembling and enraged.

“Now take it easy,” he said.

“Let go of me!”

“Take it easy.”

She pulled her wrist from his grasp. She rubbed the wrist with her left hand, glaring at Carella. “The girl had proper care,” she said. “She was under general anesthesia for the dilatation and curettage.”

“But she died,” Carella said.

“That wasn’t my fault! I told her to go directly to bed when she left here. Instead, she—”

“Instead she what?”

“She came back!”

“Here?”

“Yes, here.”

“When was this?”

“Saturday night. She told me Miss Townsend hadn’t met her where she was supposed to. She said she couldn’t go back home, and she begged me to take her in for the night.” Dr. Madison shook her head. “I couldn’t do that. I told her to go to a hospital. I gave her the name of a hospital. They would have treated her.” Dr. Madison shook her head again.