Harlan Coben - Play Dead

Mary just called me. The pregnancy test came back positive. Though James has kept up a good facade up till now, jealousy has already nibbled away at his ability to reason. What is he going to do now that speculation has become fact?

Mary is on her way to Sinclair’s office to tell him the news. Sinclair, my beloved, what have you done? I understand the power of Mary’s beauty, the sensuous spell she can cast over a man. But wasn’t our love strong enough to fight it off? Wasn’t our love powerful enough to deflect her physical charms harmlessly into space? Will you grow tired of her and come back to me eventually? Yes, I am sure you will. I must wait.

Later:

My life is over. The moment I saw the blood on James’s shirt I knew what had happened. I said nothing. My face showed no emotion. But inside someone was screaming until the vibrations wore through me.

‘I didn’t mean to,’ he said to me, his voice bordering on hysterical. ‘I just meant to confront him, to confront them both.’ His hands were shaking. ‘It just happened.’

‘Just happened,’ a voice echoed. I guessed it was mine.

‘I was listening in at the door of his office, my ear pressed against the wooden frame. I could not believe what I heard. Mary wanted to leave me. She wanted to run away with that son of a bitch.’

I still said nothing.

‘But the bastard wouldn’t listen to her. He threw her out. He was so cold to her, so heartless. He knew he had impregnated a married woman and the son of a bitch reacted by tossing her out of his office like yesterday’s garbage.’

‘What did Mary do?’ I asked.

‘She was in shock. She could not believe he was just going to abandon her like this. She called him a bastard and ran out. I ducked in an empty doorway down the hall as she sprinted past. The next thing I remember the gun was out of my pocket and in my hand.’

‘No,’ I cried, while my mind kept shouting, ‘Sinclair is dead, Judy, James may have pulled the trigger but your jealousy killed him.’

James was in a trance now, his eyes wide and dreamy. ‘I stepped out of my hiding spot,’ he began, ‘and moved slowly down the hall. When I reached his door, I peeked into his office. He was just sitting in his chair looking out the window. His back was to me. I crept closer. My hand gripped the gun. I had not held a weapon since I was in the service, but it felt so right in my palm. As he began to swivel his chair toward the door, I placed the gun against his forehead. He froze for a split second. His eyes, so full of fear, locked onto mine, and I think he knew then that he was about to die. I called him a bastard and then I pulled the trigger…

‘Dad?’ Gloria asked, though she knew the answer. ‘Dad killed Sinclair Baskin?’

Laura felt herself slowly slipping into a shock. ‘And Judy,’ she managed, ‘and even Stan…’

‘NO! Not Dad! He couldn’t!’

‘Who else? Didn’t you say Stan saw the murder take place, that he remembered the killer’s face? He must have recognized Dad when he saw him at the game.’

‘It can’t be.’

‘And Judy,’ Laura went on, ‘was going to tell me everything.’

‘But I don’t understand. Why did Judy wait so long to say something, Laura? Why didn’t she tell someone years ago?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Laura said, ‘but she was probably scared out of her mind. She blames herself for what happened to Sinclair. If she had not betrayed her sister’s trust, he would still be alive. She might have seen herself as an accomplice. And what would have been the point of saying something anyway? It was over. Telling people would not bring Sinclair back.’

‘So what made her change her mind after all these years? Why did she finally say something?’

Laura thought for a moment. ‘David’s drowning,’ she concluded. ‘When David died, she must have realized that the past could not just be wished away.’

Gloria shook her head. ‘It still makes no sense. David drowned six months ago. Why did she wait all that time to tell you? And there are other questions. What happened to David’s money? And how did someone get hold of his ring and put it in your apartment?’

Laura stopped. ‘I don’t know. But there may be a way of finding out.’

‘How?’

Laura went to the closet and got her coat. It was six thirty in the morning. They had been reading the book all night. ‘You stay here and finish going through that diary. See if there’s any more about what happened.’

‘Where are you going?’

She grabbed her keys and headed to the door. ‘To talk to Dad.’

Gloria turned the page. The next day was May 30th.

James drove very fast. He had never been afraid of being stopped by the police for speeding. After all, he was a senior staff member at Boston Memorial. He would just tell them that there was an emergency at the hospital. A matter of life and death. How that phrase grabbed people: a matter of life and death. People stopped and listened when you said it. For a fleeting moment, they considered their own mortality.

He reached the apartment building on the outskirts of the city. It was a run-down neighborhood, but then again cops were not the highest-paid people in the work force. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Six thirty in the morning. T.C. would probably still be asleep. James would have to wake him. After all, this was an emergency. This was a matter of life and death – for all of them.

James stepped out of the car. He had known from the moment Laura first called him from Australia six months ago that Mary had once again lied to him, that she had gone to Australia instead of California, that she had been responsible for David’s sudden disappearance. The dread that coursed through him at that moment was black and cold. Why had he been so foolish? Why hadn’t he seen it coming? Why hadn’t he found a way to stop Mary before she had the chance to say something to David?

If only he could have stopped her. If only David had not listened to her. If only David had ignored Mary’s every word and run back to Laura. If only. Those two words stretched back thirty years to the moment when it all began: if only Mary had been a faithful wife instead of a cheap whore.

But alas, none of that had happened. Thinking of what might have been cannot change what has already occurred. James had to go on. He had to make the best of the situation. He had to salvage what he could from the tiny fragments that were still left. There was no time to cry over the past anymore. Too much time had passed. Too many people had already died.

He knocked on the door. The gun was in his pocket just in case T.C. did not cooperate. He hoped that he would not have to use it quite yet. All he wanted from T.C. was one small piece of information:

Where was Mark Seidman?

When he found Mark Seidman, then the gun would be put to use.

James knocked again. Why hadn’t David drowned in Australia? If he had, this whole episode would be unnecessary. But David was alive and, as a result, he was still a threat to James’s family. James had come too far to lose everything now. Just one more little pull of the trigger. Just one more bullet searing through a skull. Then it would all be over.

T.C. came to the door. It was obvious from his appearance that he had been asleep. He pushed open the screen door and squinted through sleepy eyes.

‘Dr Ayars?’

‘Can I speak to you a moment?’ James asked. ‘It’s very important.’

T.C. stepped back. ‘Come on in.’

‘No, this will only take a second.’

‘Okay,’ T.C. said. ‘What can I do for you?’

James licked his lips. ‘I need to speak to David.’

‘Huh?’

‘Please don’t play dumb with me. I know that David and Mark Seidman are one and the same. I’ve known for quite some time.’