Jan Karon - In the Company of Others

The silver-haired, blade-thin doctor was seated on the footstool by Cynthia’s chair, her foot resting in his lap. Several chamber sticks lit the room.

‘But that’s only as far as I can tell. It’s swelling more than a bit. ’T would be wise to have X-rays. That would be best.’

‘No, please,’ she said. ‘Can’t I just stay off it awhile?’

‘My best advice is for X-rays.’

‘Please, no, I’ll do anything.’

Feeney gave a kind of sigh. ‘Then you must stay off it, of course. For some days. Perhaps a boot…’

‘No boot,’ she said, dismayed. ‘I just had one. I promise I’ll stay off it.’

His wife was not known for being a model patient; the doctor’s face registered frustration.

‘You’ll need crutches, then; I can lend you a pair.’

‘Déjà vu all over again,’ she said, quoting a ballplayer whose name she could never remember.

‘There’s no way around the use of crutches unless you confine yourself to your room. And you don’t appear to be a lady who enjoys confinement.’

‘I’ll use the crutches, of course. Thank you, Doctor. Will you forgive me?’

Feeney smiled. ‘Absolutely. We’ll do what we can and hope for the best.’

Through the closed window, voices in the garden below. An occasional arc of light glanced across the panes.

‘Anna, bring a glass of water, please. Reverend, see that she’s given one of these every four to six hours, as needed.’ Feeney rummaged in his case, fetched up an envelope, shook out a pill.

‘You should sleep well tonight, but the pain may give you a fit ’til the medication gets going.’ The doctor stood and took her hand. ‘As in most of our travails, Mrs. Kav’na, patience will be the best cure.’

She swallowed the pill with a long draught of water. ‘I’m a dab short on patience, Doctor, but quite long on endurance.’

‘Can’t I talk you into having it x-rayed? I could take you into Sligo myself, if that would help.’

‘May I just see how it goes for a day or two?’

‘Very well.’ Feeney looked his way, amused. So this is what you live with, he seemed to say. ‘I’m afraid you must give a few minutes to the Garda. They’ve done all they can without having their chat with the eyewitness. Are you up to it?’

‘I am,’ she said.

‘I see you’re reading the oul’ journal,’ said Feeney. He opened the cover, peered in.

‘A page-turner, actually.’

Feeney laughed. ‘Never had more than a minute or two to sit with it. Perhaps when I retire.’ He closed the cover, hefted his black bag. ‘Well, then, I’ll be back with the crutches first thing in the morning, and of course, if you need me, give us a shout. Anna, why don’t you stay with Mrs. Kav’na while the reverend and I have a moment?’

‘Of course.’ Anna’s face was blanched. ‘Thank you, Doctor.’

‘See that the Gards make it brief with Mrs. Kav’na, she needs her rest.’ Feeney kissed Anna on the cheek. ‘Take care of yourself, Anna Conor, you’re working too hard and we can’t have you poorly. I prescribe two weeks in the Ibiza countryside. ’

He went with Feeney to the landing. Murmurs, occasional merriment from the library. The scent of pipe smoke.

‘She must stay off the foot,’ said Feeney. ‘Absolutely-I don’t know what’s going on in there. My guess is it’s a sprain, but no way to know without the X-ray.’

‘I’ll see to it,’ he said.

‘I regret the terrible fright you’ve had. I’ve been a friend of the Conor family for more than forty years, and must say I feel the upset very keenly for all of you. While I’m thinking of it, your wife will need help on the stairs. Crutches are bloody suicide on stairs.’

‘I’m wondering… we have family coming in a few days. They’ll be at Broughadoon for a night, then we’ve a car trip planned.’

‘Give me a notion of your itinerary.’

‘A few cemeteries, the ruin of the Kavanagh family seat…’

‘Where is that?’

‘Fourteen kilometers east and across a sheep pasture.’ He knew the verdict already. ‘Then Borris House, the Connemara coast…’

Feeney pulled at his chin. ‘No, no, I don’t think so. Not at all. But we’ll talk tomorrow. By the way, do you play bridge?’

‘Bridge? Roughly the same way I sit a horse.’

‘And what way is that?’

‘With great trepidation.’

Feeney chuckled. ‘Once a month, Liam’s mother has the local priest and myself in for lunch and an afternoon of bridge. We’re always scouting for a fourth.’

He felt indebted to a man routed from his armchair at a late hour, to attend a willful patient. But, as for sitting at a bridge table, he’d rather have a root canal.

‘Perhaps I’ll think about it.’ He shook Feeney’s hand. ‘Our warmest thanks for your kindness.’

‘Hope you can join us day after tomorrow. Seamus turns out a fine lunch. ’t would be champion of you.’

Feeney trotted down the stairs, passing Liam and the uniformed officers coming up. ‘Try to make quick work of it, gentlemen. The lady has had a great fright.’

He felt her anguish as if it were his own-indeed, it was his own.

‘Anything gone missing?’ asked Liam.

‘I did a quick search-don’t think so.’

‘’t will be crowded in there. I’ll just be in the hall if you need me, I’m tryin’ to run down the ESB on th’ mobile.’

He went in with two officers and a photographer from the Crime Unit and stood by her as they asked questions and made notes. Bursts of light from the camera flash lit the room.

Tall, quite tall, yes. He covered his face with one hand and it was very dark, only a candle burning, she had no idea what he looked like. She had no memory of his hair color-it seemed his head was covered in some way. He must have been young, as he was very quick going over the sill and out the window. She had come into the room only moments before opening the door of the armoire. When he bolted out, he’d thrown his other hand in front of him and struck her arm, all of which caused her to stumble backward and turn her ankle.

Had the Kav’nas discovered anything missing? They had not.

A Gard pulled on a glove and opened the right-hand door of the armoire. Peered in, closed it. Opened the door on the left-drawers only.

‘Anything missing?’

‘Haven’t looked carefully, but don’t think so.’

Cynthia speculated that the intruder had been in the room when he heard them coming along the hall earlier than expected, and had hidden himself in the armoire. The Gards speculated that the intruder may have been looking for easy pickings while the guests were at dinner, and since no one at Broughadoon had found anything missing, perhaps he was frightened off at the top of his rounds. Very likely, they agreed, the intruder had not singled out the Kavanaghs.

Was Mrs. Kav’na known to travel with jewelry?

Only her wedding band, a watch, a strand of pearls, two pairs of earrings.

Was Mr. Kav’na known to travel with cash?

No more than a couple hundred euros, in this case. And he always kept his wallet in his pants pocket, never in a guest room.

Had their room door been locked?

There were no guest-room keys at Broughadoon.

A Gard reported that the soil beneath the window was freshly raked of footprints; a rake was found propped by the gate which opened to a gravel path; the herbs beneath the window were trampled.

Had the Kavanaghs seen anyone in the hall? Noticed anyone suspicious about the place since they arrived? Would the Kavanaghs mind being fingerprinted, and having fingerprint work done on various surfaces in their room?

They wouldn’t mind.

Cynthia leaned her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. Anna appeared at the door with a pot of tea. The travel club passed along the hall with chamber sticks, peering into the room and speaking in hushed voices. This would be a long night.