Promise Me Eternity (24 page)

“I know, they’ve already told me. I wanted to
hear what you had to say.”

“Please, get me out of here. I’m innocent, I
shouldn’t be here.”

The lawyer lowered his eyes. “That’s
precisely the problem. The situation isn’t so simple. The forensic
pathologist is of the opinion that the cut to the throat was done
by a doctor. And that’s not all. They checked on the manufacturer
of the scalpel used to kill Helen. It’s the same brand that’s used
at your hospital. Or, to put it another way, it’s the same kind of
scalpel you use when you operate.” When he said this he looked
Simon in the eye, as if he wanted to see the truth there.

“Those scalpels are used almost everywhere
because they’re the best quality. That doesn’t prove anything!” He
was almost shouting. “Listen, Leonard! Not long after I entered the
house I heard a thud. While I was in the kitchen, the killer was
upstairs. I don’t know what to say to make you believe me.”

“Simon, calm down. It’s not me you need to
convince. I’ll do everything in my power. You’ve got to convince
the jury. It’s they who decide, not me.”

Simon couldn’t hold back any longer. He burst
into tears.

“You’ll have to stay here until the morning.
At ten the judge will decide on how much bail you’ll have to pay
for your release.”

“I’ve no money. I won’t be able to pay bail,”
he said through his fingers.

“Then you must find someone who’s willing to
do it for you. Think who could help you.”

Simon shook his head and continued
crying.

After a while he stopped sobbing. His eyes
showed that he had an idea. “I’ve got to make a call. Please
arrange for me to be able to call someone.”

An hour later Simon was able to use the
phone. An older-looking female police officer stood not far away,
watching him.

He hesitated for some time before he called
directory assistance. He asked for the number of the Vucci
residence. He could only hope that it would be Christine who
answered. If not, he would put down the phone.

It rang twice before he heard a formal,
female voice. “Hello.”

“I’d like to speak to Christine Vucci.”

“Speaking.”

He was relieved. “Christine, it’s me, Simon.
Sorry to call you on this number, but I didn’t know what to do. Can
you talk?”

Her voice became warmer and more
affectionate. “Oh, Simon, it’s you. What’s wrong? I can talk. I’m
alone in the house.”

“My wife has been murdered.”

“Oh my God!”

He told her the whole story. Christine was
horrified.

“The worst thing of all is that I can’t tell
them I was with you. I said I went for a walk, but no one believes
me.”

“You can’t tell them, under any
circumstances. If Carlo found out about the two of us, then …”

“He’d kill us both,” he said, finishing the
sentence for her. “That much is clear, but what can I do? Please,
tell me. Tomorrow they’ll ask for bail and I don’t have any
money.”

“Don’t worry about the bail money, Simon.
I’ll arrange that. That’s the least of our problems. Tell me where
to send the money.”

Simon felt relieved. He couldn’t think of
anyone other than Edna. “Give it to my housekeeper, Edna Weiss.
She’ll pay it over for me.” He gave her Edna’s number.

“OK, Simon, don’t worry, I’ll get you out of
there and then we’ll decide what to do. It’s so awful. I’m so sorry
about Helen. How could something like that happen?”

Simon tried to keep his voice steady. “If I’d
only seen the killer. … Why didn’t I go into the bedroom a minute
earlier? I might have been able to save her.”

“Simon, if the murderer was there it’s a good
job you didn’t, otherwise he’d have killed you too. You must try
and think who it might be. You must find the killer. Did your wife
have any enemies? Was she ever mixed up in any shady business?”

“No, no, not Helen. She wasn’t involved in
anything. Definitely not. If she had been, she wouldn’t have been
grumbling about money all the time. And I’m sure she didn’t have
any enemies. She never really talked about her friends.”

“There must be something, even though it may
seem impossible to you now. No one would kill her just like that.
Had she been behaving differently at all recently?”

He tried to collect his thoughts but could
barely keep himself from sobbing. “I don’t know, we hadn’t been
getting along too well lately. I didn’t notice any difference in
her behavior. We had drifted apart from each other. And now I can
see that was a mistake.”

“Whatever happened, it’s not your fault. You
shouldn’t blame yourself.” The line went silent for a moment, as if
she’d put the phone down. “I think Carlo’s coming. I can hear his
car. I have to go.”

“Alright. I’m sorry I called you on this
number. I wouldn’t have except—”

“Don’t be silly. You did the right thing. I’d
really like to help you. I’ll give you my cell phone number. You
shouldn’t call me on it, but you can send a text and I’ll call you
back. Will you write it down?”

“Of course, Christine. Wait.” He signaled to
the police officer standing nearby that he’d like a pen and paper.
She went into the next room to fetch it. When he’d written down the
number he thanked Christine and slowly put the receiver down. He
thought how important it was to have good friends. And Christine
certainly was one.

Chapter 43

_______________________

On the way back from work Dr. Anita Carter
bought a copy of the Medford
Mail Tribune
, the town’s most
widely read paper. She immediately saw the front page article on
the murder of Helen Patterson. She was so astonished that she read
it while standing in front of the newspaper vendor’s shop. She
drank in the words, all the time shaking her head and then, visibly
shocked, she headed for home.

In front of the building where she lived she
remembered something. She stopped and looked again at the paper.
Her hand went to her mouth and she peered with fright at the window
of her apartment. She turned, took a few steps, and stopped again.
Anita Carter was thinking of going to the police. Then she said to
herself that it couldn’t be true and turned once again toward the
building. Beams of sunlight partially blinded her as she looked at
her window. She decided that she would first talk to Jerry.

When she entered the apartment, he was asleep
on the living room couch. She stood there for several minutes,
without taking off her jacket, observing him.
Is it
possible?
she wondered.

She went to the kitchen to make coffee. She
heated the water in the microwave and when the timer pinged Jerry
Duncan woke up. Blinking, he came into the kitchen.

“Hi, darling, you’re home at last. I was kind
of bored, and dozed off.”

He leaned against the kitchen countertop. Her
eyes watched his unmoving features.

Pointing to the newspaper, she said, “The
article on the front page may interest you.”

He took the paper and read the article with
apparent horror. “Why, that’s impossible. It says that Dr.
Patterson’s wife has been murdered.”

Anita looked at the floor. “Yes, someone
killed his wife. That’s why he wasn’t at work yesterday.”

“I just can’t believe it.”

“Nor can I. Listen, Jerry, I want to ask you
something. The murder took place on Wednesday, just before
midnight. I was on duty that day and you were at home alone. Hadn’t
you planned to speak to him that evening? You told me you were
going to see him. Then I forgot to ask you and you never said
anything.”

For a while he stared at her in disbelief. “I
can’t believe it. Do you really think that I killed his wife?”

“I don’t think anything, Jerry, but that
article shook me up and I got to thinking. Why didn’t you mention
whether you’d been to see him? Did you go at all? What
happened?”

He closed his eyes and sighed wearily. “I
didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed. I was there. I walked up
and down in front of his house for about two hours, but I couldn’t
bring myself to ring the bell. I somehow couldn’t pluck up the
courage.”

“And then you came home.”

“That’s right, and then I came home.”

“It says in the paper that someone cut her
throat with a scalpel. Show me your right hand, please.”

“What do you want from me? Listen, Anita,
this time you’ve gone too far. You know, sometimes you should think
a bit before you speak. You can’t—”

She stepped closer, took his hand, and turned
it over. “Really? What’s this? Why is your palm cut? It wasn’t like
that before. I noticed it on Thursday. What happened?”

“I’m disappointed in you, that you could even
think it. Do you really think I’m capable of something like
that?”

She gritted her teeth. For a while she said
nothing. “I heard you, Jerry.”

“What? I don’t understand. What did you
hear?”

“I heard you when you were asleep. You spoke
in your sleep.”

He stared at her suspiciously. “What did I
say? Tell me.”

“I heard you talking about your father: I
know what happened.”

He didn’t know what to say. “Did I really
talk in my sleep? When was that?”

She began to shout. “Does it really matter
when? You said a number of times that you killed him! How could
you?”

He hung his head and ground his teeth. “You
should never have heard that, Anita. I don’t know if you’ll
understand. I was fifteen. It’s so long ago. It was an
accident.”

“And on Wednesday night, was that an
accident, too? What did you do, Jerry?” She was beginning to sound
hysterical.

“Stop yelling. I told you, I never even went
into the house. I cut myself with the hunting knife I had in my
pocket. I swear it’s the truth.”

“A hunting knife? Why did you need a hunting
knife?”

“I always have it in my pocket. For luck.
Have I never showed you?”

“No, you’ve never showed me.” She wiped away
the tears running down her face.

He ran to the hall and looked for his
raincoat. He pulled the hunting knife from the pocket. There were
drops of dried blood on it. “It wasn’t me, I swear,” he said as he
returned to the kitchen and sat down. “You’ve got to believe me,
Anita. About my father—”

“Why did you kill him?”

He got up and took her hand. “Let’s go in the
living room. I’ll tell you everything. It’s a long story.”

She followed him into the other room, and a
chill passed over her as she sat down beside him. “Tell me
everything, Jerry. How did you kill your father?”

He told her all about his parents and how
they used to fight. He talked and she listened. He needed more than
an hour to tell his disturbing story. The whole time it seemed as
if his heart was being torn apart.

Anita did not interrupt and by the time he’d
finished she was beginning to believe him. Tears were streaming
down her face when she finally spoke. “I’m so sorry, darling, for
judging you the way I did.”

He pulled her toward him. “I’d probably react
like that if I heard someone saying such things in their
sleep.”

“Forgive me.”

He rocked her to and fro. “Shh, it’s OK,
you’re my girl, it’s OK.”

Two hours later, when Anita was sound asleep,
Jerry went into the bathroom because he was feeling hot. He
splashed his face several times with cold water and then looked in
the mirror. Watching the sweat running down his face, he said to
his reflection, “I’m so lucky that she believed me.”

Chapter 44

_______________________

“You look in a bit of a bad mood,” Carlo said
as soon as he had put down his leather briefcase on the closest of
the three living room sofas.

Christine sat reading a magazine in the
antique hand-carved Asian Dragon Chair and didn’t even look at him.
“You could say hello first.”

“Sorry, darling.” He went to her and gave her
a wet kiss.

She closed the magazine and said, “I’m not in
a bad mood, I’ve just had a difficult day.” As soon as he turned
away she wiped her lips with her hand.

“What do you mean? Did you oversleep?” he
joked.

She shot him an angry look. “Maybe your
comments seem funny to you, but they’re not to me.”

He smothered the laughter he felt and took
off his jacket.

An elegantly attired butler entered the room,
greeted Carlo, and asked if he would like a drink.

“Thanks, Jordan, a vodka and lemon, please.”
Carlo turned toward Christine. “What about you?”

“No thanks,” she replied without a trace of
warmth in her voice.

The butler picked up the jacket Carlo Vucci
had left on a side chair and carried it to the closet where clothes
destined for the dry cleaner’s were kept. Carlo never wore the same
jacket twice without it being cleaned.

“Tell me what’s so very bad to put you in
such a mood.”

“You see. Can’t you hear yourself? Your
questions always sound as if they’re designed to belittle me. I’ve
no intention of answering.”

“Sorry! Maybe I’m a bit irritable. Things
were crazy at work. I had to fire one of my best lawyers. The
bastard was screwing me. He’ll get what’s coming to him … when the
time is right.”

Christine knew that something bad was going
to happen to the lawyer. If he was lucky, maybe he’d not be killed.
She put her hands to her stomach, feeling sick.

“What is it, darling, you don’t feel so
good?”

She got up and walked around the sitting area
while rubbing her temples. “It’s only three days before the party
and I’m not on top of things. The material for the tablecloths is
different from what I expected and there aren’t enough plates. Not
to mention the group that can’t come because the singer’s got a
temperature.” She stopped in front of Carlo, her hands on her
hips.