Sidney Sheldon - Nothing lasts forever

“What time did you leave Dr. Hunter?” “It must have been about ten o'clock. I dropped her off at her apartment and left.”

“You didn't go into the apartment?” “No.”

“Did Dr. Hunter talk about what she planned to do?” “You mean about the … ? No. Not a word.” Inspector Burns pulled out a card. “If you think of anything else that might be helpful, doctor, I'd appreciate it if you gave me a call.”

“Certainly. I … you have no idea what a shock this is.”

Paige and Honey stayed up all night, talking about what had happened to Kat, going over it and over it, in shocked disbelief.

At nine o'clock, Inspector Burns came by.

“Good morning. I wanted to tell you that I spoke to Dr. Mallory last night.”

“And?”

“He said they went out to dinner, and then he dropped her off and went home.”

“He's lying,” Paige said. She was thinking. “Wait! Did they find any traces of semen in Kat's body?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, then,” Paige said excitedly, “that proves he's lying. He did take her to bed and—”

“I went to talk to him about that this morning. He says they had sex before they went out to dinner.”

“Oh.” She would not give up. “His fingerprints will be on the curette he used to kill her.” Her voice was eager. “Did you find fingerprints?”

“Yes, doctor,” he said patiently. “They were hers.”

“That's imp—Wait! Then he wore gloves, and when he was finished, he put her prints on the curette. How does that sound?”

“Like someone's been watching too many Murder, She Wrote television programs.”

“You don't believe Kat was murdered, do you?”

“I'm afraid I don't.”

“Have they done an autopsy?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“The medical examiner is listing it as an accidental death. Dr. Mallory told me she decided not to have the baby, so apparently she—”

“Went into the bathroom and butchered herself?” Paige interrupted. “For God's sake, inspector! She was a doctor, a surgeon! There's no way in the world she would have done that to herself.”

Inspector Burns said thoughtfully, “You think Mallory persuaded her to have an abortion, and tried to help her, and then left when it went wrong?”

Paige shook her head. “No. It couldn't have happened that way. Kat would never have agreed. He deliberately murdered her.” She was thinking out loud. “Kat was strong. She would have had to be unconscious for him to … to do what he did.”

“The autopsy showed no signs of any blows or anything that would have caused her to become unconscious. No bruises on her throat …”

“Were there any traces of sleeping pills or … ?”

“Nothing.” He saw the expression on Paige's face. “This doesn't look to me like a murder. I think Dr. Hunter made an error in judgment, and … I'm sorry.”

She watched him start toward the door. “Wait!” Paige said. “You have a motive.”

He turned. “Not really. Mallory says she agreed to have the abortion. That doesn't leave us much, does it?”

“It leaves you with a murder,” Paige said stubbornly.

“Doctor, what we don't have is any evidence. It's his word against the victim's, and she's dead. I'm really sorry.”

Paige watched him leave.

I'm not going to let Ken Mallory get away with it, she thought despairingly.

Jason came by to see Paige. “I heard what happened,” he said. “I can't believe it! How could she have done that to herself?”

“She didn't,” Paige said. “She was murdered.” She told Jason about her conversation with Inspector Burns. “The police aren't going to do anything about it. They think it was an accident. Jason, it's my fault that Kat is dead.”

“Your fault?”

“I'm the one who persuaded her to go out with Mallory in the first place. She didn't want to. It started out as a silly joke, and then she … she fell in love with him. Oh, Jason!”

“You can't blame yourself for that,” he said firmly.

Paige looked around in despair. “I can't live in this apartment anymore. I have to get out of here.”

Jason took her in his arms. “Let's get married right away.”

“It's too soon. I mean, Kat isn't even …”

“I know. We'll wait a week or two.”

“All right.”

“I love you, Paige.”

“I love you, too, darling. Isn't it stupid? I feel guilty because Kat and I both fell in love, and she's dead and I'm alive.”

The photograph appeared on the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle on Tuesday. It showed a smiling Ken Mallory with his arm around Lauren Harrison. The caption read: “Heiress to Wed Doctor.”

Paige stared at it in disbelief. Kat had been dead for only two days, and Ken Mallory was announcing his engagement to another woman! All the time he had been promising to marry Kat, he had been planning to marry someone else.

That's why he killed Kat. To get her out of the way!

Paige picked up the telephone and dialed police headquarters.

“Inspector Burns, please.”

A moment later, she was talking to the inspector.

“This is Dr. Taylor.”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Have you seen the photograph in this morning's Chronicle?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there's your motive!” Paige exclaimed. “Ken Mallory had to shut Kat up before Lauren Harrison found out about her. You've got to arrest Mallory.” She was almost yelling into the telephone.

“Wait a minute. Calm down, doctor. We may have a motive, but I told you, we don't have a shred of evidence. You said yourself that Dr. Hunter would have had to be unconscious before Mallory could perform an abortion on her. After I spoke to you, I talked to our forensic pathologist again. There was no sign of any kind of blow that could have caused unconsciousness.”

“Then he must have given her a sedative,” Paige said stubbornly. “Probably chloral hydrate. It's fast-acting and—”

Inspector Burns said patiently, “Doctor, there was no trace of chloral hydrate in her body. I'm sorry—I really am—but we can't arrest a man because he's going to get married. Was there anything else?”

Everything else. “No,” Paige said. She slammed down the receiver and sat there thinking. Mallory has to have given Kat some kind of drug. The easiest place for him to have gotten it would be the hospital pharmacy.

Fifteen minutes later, Paige was on her way to Embarcadero County Hospital.

Pete Samuels, the chief pharmacist, was behind the counter. “Good morning, Dr. Taylor. How can I help you?”

“I believe Dr. Mallory came by a few days ago and picked up some medication. He told me the name of it, but I can't remember what it was.”

Samuels frowned. “I don't remember Dr. Mallory coming by here for at least a month.”

“Are you sure?”

Samuels nodded. “Positive. I would have remembered. We always talk football.”

Paige's heart sank. “Thank you.”

He must have written a prescription at some other pharmacy. Paige knew that the law required that all prescriptions for narcotics be made out in triplicate— one copy for the patient, one to be sent to the Bureau of Controlled Substances, and the third for the pharmacy's files.

Somewhere, Paige thought, Ken Mallory had a prescription filled. There are probably two or three hundred pharmacies in San Francisco. There was no way she could track down the prescription. It was likely that Mallory had gotten it just before he murdered Kat. That would have been on Saturday or Sunday. If it was Sunday, I might have a chance, Paige thought. Very few pharmacies are open on Sunday. That narrows it down.

She went upstairs to the office where the assignment sheets were kept and looked up the roster for Saturday. Dr. Ken Mallory had been on call all day, so the chances were that he had had the prescription filled on Sunday. How many pharmacies were open on Sunday in San Francisco?