Michael Baden - Remains Silent

She closed her eyes. “Which am I?”

“Well- or almost well. You’ll be in a lot of pain when the drugs wear off, but it’s only a flesh wound. You can leave later this morning, and you’ll be walking fine in a couple of days.” He pulled up a chair. “Feel strong enough to tell me what happened?”

Her story was disjointed, partly because of the drugs but more because her mind remembered scattered images rather than a coherent sequence.

“Your attacker,” Jake said. “You sure it was a woman?”

“Not really. All she said was good evening, and it might have been a falsetto voice. There’s the dress, of course, but she wore men’s Tod’s lizard boots. Unmistakable.”

“Right. A man or a woman. Kenneth-”

“He didn’t do it!”

Jake laughed. “I’m not implying that he did. But I’m trying to find out whether it was the same person who scared you at Turner. Could have been two separate people.”

The comfort of his presence wore away, and she was once again assaulted by the horror of what had happened. The impact of his statement struck her hard. “Two attackers?”

“Say, Sheriff Fisk and Marge Crespy.”

“You think-?”

His face darkened. “My colleague, Wally Winnick, is in Baxter County trying to find connections. We’ll know more when he reports back. All I’m sure of is that he or she or they didn’t want to kill you.”

“The person at Turner didn’t, but the cleaning woman did.”

“If she’d wanted to, you’d be dead. The knife could just as easily have gone into your heart as into your thigh. They’re trying to scare you off, Manny, and, through you, me.” He banged the side of her bed with his fist. “God, how I wish she’d come after me!” It’s my fault she’s hurt. I didn’t have to get her involved. I wanted her along. I didn’t need her.

“I’m glad she didn’t,” Manny said softly. He sat with his head bowed; she stroked his arm. “It means I didn’t have to wait till tonight for our date to see you.”

He tried to smile and couldn’t. A nurse came in. “There are two policemen outside, Ms. Manfreda. They want to talk to you about the attack. Are you up to it?”

“I suppose so.” The drug was wearing off, she realized. The pain was worse but her mind was clearer. “How did the cops find out about this?” she asked Jake.

“From EMS. They have to report all suspicious injuries.”

“Nothing suspicious here. It was an out-and-out crime. What do I tell them?”

“Just say your screams scared the assailant off.”

MANNY KNEW, as Jake helped her out of the taxi, that she could have called Kenneth or asked her mother to come stay with her at her apartment, but Jake had invited her to his house-“You’ll be safest there”- and she’d accepted. Who wouldn’t? The EMS had cut off her clothes, so, with becoming modesty on both sides, Jake had bundled her into two hospital gowns and signed the discharge papers.

She was feeling something she had rarely felt before: vulnerability. It felt good to be taken care of. He sat her in one of his leather club chairs in the living room, propped up her feet on a mismatched ottoman, and made her tea.

“I’ll get you something else to wear,” he told her.

She was still in the hospital gowns. “Have you been hanging around with Kenneth?”

He glanced at her. “Huh?”

“Never mind. Whatever you’ve got.”

He went upstairs.

She sipped her tea and marveled at the fact that she was alive. Her attacker could have killed her-poof!-and she would have been just like Mrs. Alessis, her body empty of her being. That others could be responsible for her death was frightening. Control was her strength, and she was learning how little it meant. She’d spent her adult life dealing with human suffering and loss; she’d even assisted at an autopsy. But it was only now, when she’d come so close to her own death, that outrage overcame her. I’m a human being. How dare they? She wanted revenge.

Jake came back. Recompense. “Try these.” He dropped a pair of his pajamas on her lap.

“I thought for sure you’d have your girlfriend’s sweatpants.”

“No girlfriend. No sweatpants.”

Aha.

“I have to go back to the office for a few hours,” he said. “We’ll order out when I get back. I called Sam to see if he could come over”- Please, no. -“but he isn’t around. So you’ll be alone. Don’t open the door to anyone.” He looked at her, concerned. “Do you need help putting on the pajamas?”

“I can do it.” She tried to stand, fell back. “Ow! I can put on the top, but you better help me with the bottoms.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Lascivious scientist. She felt a throb of desire. “Turn around.”

“Why? I see naked bodies all the time.”

“Dead naked bodies. Turn around.”

“Okay, okay.”

Manny slipped out of the hospital gowns, put on the top, and buttoned it. It was maroon with little ivory diamonds on it-hideous-but the cotton was smooth, luxurious. She rolled up the sleeves and thought of lying next to him in bed. The codeine is messing with my head. “I need help now.”

Jake got down on one knee and placed her feet in the legs. Is he about to propose? “I think you need to roll them up,” she said.

He pushed them up discreetly so her feet stuck out of the bottoms. His hands touched her calves. She shivered.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she squeaked.

“Good. Lean forward and pull them up. Be careful not to put weight on that leg.”

She gave her tush a wiggle and tied the cord at the waist. “There.”

He looked at her like a man, not a physician.

“Go back to work,” she said. “There are bodies waiting for you.”

And another when you come back home.

Manny wasn’t in the club chair when he got home. The living room was empty.

Terror filled him like poison. I can’t lose her. She’s too important. He didn’t try to interpret what important meant; he was only aware that his breathing was labored, his panic was making him dizzy, and if she were kidnapped or dead he would have to get a new name, a new life. He could not live with the Jacob Rosen he was now.

“Manny?” he yelled. “Manny!”

A sound from upstairs. It took him a moment to identify it: running water. She’s taking a bath!

He raced up the stairs, laughing. Yes. The bathroom door was closed. It was definitely water he heard. Manny was singing Kurt Weill’s “Mack the Knife” at the top of her lungs.

He pounded on the door. The singing stopped.

“Who is it?”

“Jake. How the hell did you get upstairs?”

“Rocket ship. I needed a bath.”

“Very funny. If you get water on those bandages, you’ll rip out the stitches. The wound’s probably bleeding now from the climb.”

She turned off the water. “Actually, no. And I’ve got my leg hanging over the side of the tub. If I ever decide to quit lawyering, there’s a job for me as a contortionist.” She giggled. “You should see me.”

“I’d like that very much.” He turned the doorknob.

“Don’t you dare!”

“It was your suggestion.” He stood by the door, listening to the sounds of her bathing. Then he heard water running out of the tub. “There are clean towels in the closet,” he told her.

“Found them.”

“Need help getting down the stairs?”

“I got up them, didn’t I?” She hesitated. “Although it might be fun.”

She appeared at the kitchen door wearing his pajama bottoms backward and holding a prescription bottle. Her eyes flashed fire.

“Been raiding the medicine cabinet?” he asked calmly.

“As my mother says, if you want to learn the truth about someone, look in their medicine chest and their refrigerator. And now I know the truth about you. The name on the bottle is Marianna Candler Rosen. Is there a little unscientific detail about your life you forgot to tell me? Like you’re married? I should have known when you opened my car door for me after the Terrell autopsy. I asked you then if you were married because you weren’t wearing a ring. Now I know what ‘not quite’ meant.”