Promise Me Eternity (38 page)

“It’s best you two get to work then. Dr.
Duncan will explain everything to you, won’t you, Jerry?” Dr.
Horras asked.

I’d only have to stab him once
, Jerry
thought. He knew exactly how to make the heart stop beating in less
than a second. The only question was whether to stab both of them,
first Dr. Lawson and then Dr. Horras. That’s what bugged him. He
didn’t know who to stab first. Which of them deserved death
more?

“Dr. Duncan, you will brief Dr. Lawson?” Dr.
Horras said again.

Jerry could barely take his eyes off the
blade of the letter opener. “Sorry, I got lost in thought. Of
course I’ll explain everything to him.” He pointed toward the door.
“Come, first we’ll go to your office—or rather, Dr. Patterson’s old
office. There, you can drop off your things.”

Dr. Horras was bursting with happiness.
Grabbing the letter opener, he scratched his neck with it. He
really was lucky to have such a renowned surgeon come to work at
his hospital.

Half an hour later, Dr. Duncan and Dr. Lawson
entered the operating room. The entire staff was there with a
patient who was already under anesthesia and was waiting for a
spinal operation.

“I’d like to introduce Dr. Lawson,” Jerry
Duncan said. He deliberately stood so that he could not see Anita.
“Dr. Lawson is a highly acknowledged neurosurgeon who will be
joining the team.”

Dr. Lawson shook hands with everyone and then
said, “I’ve always wanted to come to Medford. And finally my wife
and I decided …”

While he spoke, Anita Carter’s glassy eyes
stared at Jerry reproachfully. She wondered why he’d agreed to
introduce the new neurosurgeon to the team.
He’s really made a
fool of himself this time. Surely the hospital director should be
doing this.

“Excuse me, Doctor, it’s best we get
started,” she said with a hard voice. “The patient is deep in
anesthesia.”

Dr. Lawson said, “Sorry! Of course, it’s best
we get prepared, Dr. Duncan. The patient always comes first.”

Dr. Duncan operated and Dr. Lawson assisted.
The theatre was very quiet. The whole team was wondering about how
Jerry felt.

Anita kept staring at Dr. Lawson. She had to
admit to herself that she liked the way he looked. He had thick
black hair and dark eyes. Twice he noticed her staring at him.

After the operation Dr. Lawson congratulated
Dr. Duncan in front of everyone for a well-executed operation and
invited them all for coffee. “There’s no rush, is there? We can
surely take time off for a coffee?”

Two nurses apologized because they had to
stay with the patient, but the others agreed.

Later on, when Dr. Lawson chatted about his
previous hospital post, Anita Carter had to admit to herself that
he was a very intelligent man who had achieved a lot in his life.
She was no longer thinking about Jerry, who was right next to her.
If he can’t stand up for himself, it’s his problem. I’m not
going to fight for his career forever.

She assessed Henry Lawson from head to toe.
He must do some kind of sport
. For a moment her eyes
lingered on his backside.

“And you, Dr. Carter? You haven’t said a word
the whole time. The director said quite a few nice things about
you.”

“Oh, nothing, nothing really. I’m glad that
you’ve joined us.”

“I’m glad, too. I can’t tell you how much,”
Dr. Lawson added.

During the conversation, Jerry Duncan
pretended everything was OK. Henry Lawson was getting on his
nerves, but it would be extremely stupid of him to pick a fight
with him on the first day. He was much more worried about Anita
because he knew she was going to be really angry that evening.

He asked himself several times if his career
was really so important. Lately, he’d been tense operating alone.
Maybe that’s why he reached for chocolate every day. He had lost
his sense of peace. When he mentioned it to Anita once, she snapped
at him that he’d get used to it. “Now everything depends on you. If
you decide to save a patient, he’ll live. If not, he won’t,” she
said tersely. Jerry was bewildered by her cold-heartedness.

Dr. Lawson said to him, “We should probably
get going, isn’t that right, Dr. Duncan? You’ve got quite a lot to
show me and I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

Jerry nodded, pushed his chair back, and
without looking at Anita, walked toward the exit.

Chapter 77

_______________________

Simon woke up and jumped out of bed as if
he’d been catapulted. He paced around the house for some time,
making sure he’d not left anything that could make the police
suspicious of him. He was shaking from head to toe. He formulated
his plan:
When the police come, I’ll be able to tell them the
truth. Christine will confirm that she was with me that night. They
will apologize to me at work and take me back. Everything will
return to how it was.

He wanted to talk to Christine. Running to
the phone, he called to tell her everything was OK.

A friendly female voice announced that she
was not available at the moment.

“Damn! She had to turn off her phone at this
moment. I’ll call her later.”

He drank some beer and went to lie down on
the sofa, in front of the television. Closing his eyes, he
concentrated on his breathing. He tried to calm his inner
turmoil.

Murderer
, he heard.
You killed a
man
.

He punched the seat cushion.
I did it for
Christine. And for those Carlo killed. I had to do it.

He thought about the police and the annoying
questions they’d ask him.
I’m totally calm,
he repeated to
himself
. I’m totally calm. I’m totally calm
….

Then the thought that they could test him
with a lie detector came to mind. Again, his heart started racing.
No, no, that won’t happen. They won’t even suspect me. Why would
I kill Carlo Vucci?

Chapter 78

_______________________

“You should be pleased, not sulking,” Steven
said to Sandra.

“I’m fine, don’t be difficult. The only thing
that bothers me is the way Richard said it.”

As they were approaching the crime scene,
Steven slowed down. “Ah, you know him. He’s like that. He’ll never
change.”

“Maybe not, but he still gets on my
nerves.”

Steven parked the vehicle on the side of the
road. The wooded path they were following was rough. About thirty
yards in, the agents reached the yellow police tape surrounding a
limo. Six policemen were standing there, talking.

“What have you figured out, guys?” Sandra
Grant asked. “We’re in charge of the case.”

One officer said, “Looks like it was an
accident. Something must have happened to Mr. Vucci while he was
driving home. Maybe his heart stopped or something like that. He
drove into the forest. We’ve checked him over and he’s not bleeding
anywhere and there’s no bullet wound.”

Steven West asked, “How did you find
him?”

The same uniformed officer replied, “A woman
noticed a car in the woods. She found it a bit suspicious, so she
called the police.”

“I see,” Sandra said. “So, he’s been dead for
a few hours, or he might even have been here since last night?”

“The corpse is in a rigid state, so we
suspect he drove into the woods yesterday evening or even before
that.”

“Did anyone call the police station to say
that he was missing? Maybe his wife, kids, parents?” Sandra
asked.

“No, no one,” the policeman said.

Sandra touched her chin. She found it odd,
since she’d seen him at the zoo the day before. “OK. We’ll search
the area, a radius of a hundred yards. Whatever you find, please
call out. Agent West and I will examine the body, just in case.
Then he should be taken to the morgue, where he’ll be examined by
the pathologist.”

The policeman gave an obliging nod and
ordered the others to start searching.

Three hours later, the two agents were on
their way to see Carlo Vucci’s wife.

“I find it odd that Carlo was driving home
alone,” Sandra commented. “Some of the people I talked to said that
he always had two guys with him. I saw them myself at the zoo.”

Steven, who was driving, shrugged. “Maybe he
didn’t want company. You always question everything, Sandra.
Anyway, we’ll find out from his wife.”

“Pretty impressive,” Steven said as Sandra
rang the front doorbell. He was looking around, admiring the
stately façade.

A tall servant opened the door. “Yes?”

Sandra told him that they were police
officers and wanted to talk to Mrs. Vucci.

Christine was at the door before she’d even
finished. “The police? What happened? My husband? Is he OK?”

Both agents slowly shook their heads.

Sandra said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Vucci, but your
husband is dead.”

The butler let out a loud sigh, whereas
Christine Vucci’s face remained motionless. She silently stared at
the agent.

After a few moments she said, “My husband,
dead? What happened?”

“We found him this morning in his car. All
the evidence points to him having had a heart attack or something
similar.”

“It must have happened yesterday evening,”
Steven explained.

“That’s odd. My husband was very healthy. …
Thank you, Harold,” she said, turning to the butler, who was still
standing frozen on the spot. “Please bring us some coffee, tea, and
cookies.”

They made their way into the reception room.
Her face remained without emotion all the time they walked.

Only when they’d sat down did she ask, “When
did you find him?”

“About four hours ago,” Steven replied.

“I see.”

“We’d like to ask you some questions,” Sandra
said. “If you think you’re up to it, of course?”

It took Christine a few seconds to reply.
“Yes, yes, of course I’ll manage.”

“Didn’t you miss your husband yesterday
evening?” Sandra asked directly.

“Our relationship wasn’t based on mutual
consultation. He never told me when he’d be back or where he was
going. Sometimes he was gone for quite a few days at a time. There
would be no point in calling the police each time, would there?”
she said.

Sandra crossed her legs. “Earlier, you said
that your husband was very healthy. So he didn’t have any heart
problems?”

“No.”

“Did he have any other illness?”

“No. I don’t understand how ….” Her facial
expression became sharp, perhaps even sad for a moment.

Steven thought she was going to cry.

“Your husband is a well-known person. As far
as we know, he always had a security guard with him. Does the fact
that he was alone not seem strange to you?” Sandra said.

Christine adjusted her hair behind her ears.
“Sometimes in the evenings, on his way home, he would be alone,”
she said.

“I see.”

With trembling hands, the butler set a tray
with coffee, tea, and a small assortment of cookies on the coffee
table. They paused in their conversation. After pouring the
beverages, the butler bowed slightly to Christine and left the
room.

Steven asked, “What did Mr. Vucci do?”

Christine looked at him. “What do you
mean?”

“I thought … we know your husband is
well-known. We also know he owned a company, but what is it
involved in?”

“Oh, right. Real estate. You have to
understand I never poked my nose in his business affairs. You’ll
have to find out for yourselves.”

Sandra intervened. “Let’s say your husband
didn’t have an accident. Do you know of anyone he didn’t get along
with?”

Christine smiled briefly. “My husband had
quite a few enemies, but …”

She went to get a tissue. Again, Steven
thought that she was going to start crying, but instead she wiped
her nose.

“I never interfered in his business,” she
repeated, “so in relation to that, I can’t be of much help to you.
He didn’t get along with a lot of people. Many times they called,
angrily demanding my husband, but I’m afraid I don’t know their
names. I never saw them either.”

“OK.” Sandra thanked her and gave her a card.
“If you think of anything, please give me a call. We won’t disturb
you anymore. There’s no point drawing conclusions before the
pathologist has examined him. Then we will investigate if
necessary.”

Again, Christine blew her nose. Raising her
voice she said, “Harold, would you please see these two officers to
the door.” She turned to Sandra and in a composed, soft tone, said,
“Absolutely. If I remember anything, I’ll give you a call. I can’t
understand that my husband is …”

Steven had to look at her again, not able to
resist her alluring beauty.

She’s very cold,
Sandra thought while
saying good-bye.

Chapter 79

_______________________

Dr. Patterson’s doorbell rang a little after
four in the afternoon. Simon was in the backyard, washing his car,
scrubbing off all traces of the dirt from the woods. Earlier, he
had heard on the radio that Carlo Vucci was dead, and a feeling of
relief had come over him. They’d said Vucci most probably had a
heart attack and drove into the woods because of it.

Mrs. Edna Weiss, who was polishing the living
room floor, opened the front door. Seeing who it was, she let out a
hushed cry and hurried into the yard to alert Dr. Patterson.

“The police are at the door!” she said
quietly. “What shall I tell them?”

“You won’t tell them anything. They’ve
probably come for me. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.” His lips
were pressed together in a careless smile.