Sidney Sheldon - The Naked Face

He had reasoned with her for more than three hours, and in the end she had reluctantly agreed to hold off on the divorce. In the months that followed, she had become interested and then involved in the battle that John was waging. Judd made it a rule never to treat married couples, but Mary had asked him to let her become a patient, and he had found it helpful. As she had begun to understand herself and where she had failed as a wife, John’s progress had become dramatically rapid.

And now Judd was here to tell her that her husband had been senselessly murdered. She looked up at him, unable to believe what he had just said, sure that it was some kind of macabre joke. And then realization set in. “He’s never coming back to me!” she screamed. “He’s never coming back to me!” She started tearing at her clothes in anguish, like a wounded animal. The six-year-old twins walked in. And from that moment on, there was bedlam. Judd managed to calm the children down and take them to a neighbor’s house. He gave Mrs. Hanson a sedative and called the family doctor. When he was sure there was nothing more he could do, he left. He got into his car and drove aimlessly, lost in thought. Hanson had fought his way through a hell, and at the moment of his victory…It was such a pointless death. Could it have been some homosexual who had attacked him? Some former lover who was frustrated because Hanson had left him? It was possible, of course, but Judd did not believe it. Lieutenant McGreavy had said that Hanson was killed a block away from the office. If the murderer had been a homosexual, full of hatred, he would have made a rendezvous with Hanson at some private place, either to try to persuade Hanson to come back to him or to pour out his recriminations before he killed him. He would not have plunged a knife into him on a crowded street and then fled.

On the corner ahead he saw a phone booth and suddenly remembered that he had promised to have dinner with Dr. Peter Hadley and his wife, Norah. They were his closest friends, but he was in no mood to see anyone. He stopped the car at the curb, went into the phone booth and dialed the Hadleys’ number. Norah answered the phone. “You’re late! Where are you?”

“Norah,” Judd said, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to beg off tonight.”

“You can’t,” she wailed. “I have a sexy blonde sitting here dying to meet you.”

“We’ll do it another night,” Judd said. “I’m really not up to it. Please apologize for me.”

“Doctors!” snorted Norah. “Just a minute and I’ll put your chum on.”

Peter got on the phone. “Anything wrong, Judd?”

Judd hesitated. “Just a hard day, Pete. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”

“You’re missing some delicious Scandinavian smorgasbord. I mean beautiful.”

“I’ll meet her another time,” promised Judd. He heard a hurried whisper, and then Norah got on the phone again.

“She’ll be here for Christmas dinner, Judd. Will you come?”

He hesitated. “We’ll talk about it later, Norah. I’m sorry about tonight.” He hung up. He wished he knew some tactful way to stop Norah’s matchmaking.

Judd had gotten married in his senior year in college. Elizabeth had been a social science major, warm and bright and gay, and they had both been young and very much in love and full of wonderful plans to remake the world for all the children they were going to have. And on the first Christmas of their marriage, Elizabeth and their unborn child had been killed in a head-on automobile collision. Judd had plunged himself totally into his work, and in time had become one of the outstanding psychoanalysts in the country. But he was still not able to bear being with other people celebrating Christmas Day. Somehow, even though he told himself he was wrong, that belonged to Elizabeth and their child.

He pushed open the door of the phone booth. He was aware of a girl standing outside the booth waiting to use the phone. She was young and pretty, dressed in a tight-fitting sweater and a miniskirt, with a bright-colored raincoat. He stepped out of the booth. “Sorry,” he apologized.

She gave him a warm smile. “That’s all right.” There was a wistful look on her face. He had seen that look before. Loneliness seeking to break through the barrier that he had unconsciously set up.

If Judd knew that he had a quality that was attractive to women, it was deep in his subconscious. He had never analyzed why. It was more of a handicap than an asset to have his female patients falling in love with him. It sometimes made life very difficult.

He moved past the girl with a friendly nod. He sensed her standing there in the rain, watching as he got into his car and drove away.

He turned the car onto the East River Drive and headed for the Merritt Parkway. An hour and a half later he was on the Connecticut Turnpike. The snow in New York was dirty and slushy, but the same storm had magically transformed the Connecticut landscape into a Currier and Ives picture postcard.

He drove past Westport and Danbury, deliberately forcing his mind to concentrate on the ribbon of road that flashed beneath his wheels and the wintry wonderland that surrounded him. Each time his thoughts reached out to John Hanson, he made himself think of other things. He drove on through the darkness of the Connecticut countryside and hours later, emotionally worn out, finally turned the car around and headed for home.

Mike, the red-faced doorman who usually greeted him with a smile, was preoccupied and distant. Family difficulties, Judd supposed. Usually Judd would chat with him about Mike’s teen-age son and married daughters, but Judd did not feel like talking this evening. He asked Mike to have the car sent down to the garage.

“Right, Dr. Stevens.” Mike seemed about to add something, then thought better of it.

Judd walked into the building. Ben Katz, the manager, was crossing the lobby. He saw Judd, gave a nervous wave, and hurriedly disappeared into his apartment.

What’s the matter with everyone tonight? thought Judd. Or is it just my nerves? He stepped into the elevator.

Eddie, the elevator operator, nodded. “Evening, Dr. Stevens.”

“Good evening, Eddie.”

Eddie swallowed and looked away self-consciously.

“Is anything wrong?” Judd asked.

Eddie quickly shook his head and kept his eyes averted.

My God, thought Judd. Another candidate for my couch. The building was suddenly full of them.

Eddie opened the elevator door and Judd got out. He started toward his apartment. He didn’t hear the elevator door close, so he turned around. Eddie was staring at him. As Judd started to speak, Eddie quickly closed the elevator door. Judd went to his apartment, unlocked the door, and entered.

Every light in the apartment was on. Lieutenant McGreavy was opening a drawer in the living room. Angeli was coming out of the bedroom. Judd felt anger flare in him. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

“Waitin’ for you, Dr. Stevens,” McGreavy said.

Judd walked over and slammed the drawer shut, narrowly missing McGreavy’s fingers. “How did you get in here?”

“We have a search warrant,” said Angeli.

Judd stared at him incredulously. “A search warrant? For my apartment?”

“Suppose we ask the questions, Doctor,” McGreavy said.

“You don’t have to answer them,” interjected Angeli, “without benefit of legal counsel. Also, you should know that anything you say can be used as evidence against you.”

“Do you want to call a lawyer?” McGreavy asked.

“I don’t need a lawyer. I told you that I loaned the raincoat to John Hanson this morning and I didn’t see it again until you brought it to my office this afternoon. I couldn’t have killed him. I was with patients all day. Miss Roberts can verify that.”