A Stranger in the Mirror (28 page)

265 *Tm feeling much better now," JiB interrupted. "I'd like to be alone with Mr. Temple." Nurse Gallagher gathered up her needlepoint paraphernalia and got to her feet. "Of course," she said. "I'm sure we'll enjoy that." She turned toward the grinning figure on the bed. "Won't we, Mr. Temple?" To Jill, she added, "I'M just go down to the kitchen and fix myself a nice cup of tea." "No. You're off duty in half an hour. You can leave now. I'll stay here until Nurse Gordon arrives." Jill gave her a quick, reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I'll be here with him." "I suppose I could get some shopping done, and -- " "Fine," Jill said. "You run along." Jill stood there, immobile, until she heard the front door slam and Nurse Gallagher's car going down the driveway. When the sounds of the motor had died away on the summer air, Jill turned to look at Toby. His eyes were focused on her face in an unwavering, unblinking stare. Forcing herself to move closer to the bed, she pulled back the covers and looked down at the wasted, paralyzed frame, the limp, useless legs. The wheelchair was in a corner. Jill moved it over to the bedside and positioned the chair so that she could roll Toby onto it. She reached toward him, and stopped. It took every ounce of her willpower to touch him. The grinning, mummified face was only inches away from her, the mouth smiling idiotically and the bright blue eyes spewing venom. Jill leaned forward and forced herself to lift Toby by his arms. He was almost weightless, but in Jill's exhausted condition, she could barely manage it. As she touched his body, Jill could feel the icy air begin to envelop her. The pressure inside her head was becoming unbearable. There were bright colored spots before her eyes, and they began to dance around, faster and faster, making her dizzy. She felt herself starting to faint, but she knew that she must not allow that to happen. Not if she wanted to live. With a superhuman effort, she dragged Toby's limp body onto the wheelchair and strapped him in. She looked at her watch. She had only twenty minutes.

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It took Jill five minutes to go into her bedroom and change into a bathing suit and return to Toby's room. She released the brake on the wheelchair and began to wheel Toby down the corridor, into the elevator. She stood behind him as they rode down, so that she could not see his eyes; But she could feel them. And she could feel the damp cold of the noxious air that began to fill the elevator, smothering her, caressing her, filling her lungs with its putrescence until she began to choke. She could not breathe. She fell to her knees, gasping, fighting to stay conscious, trapped in there with him. As she started to feel herself blacking out, the elevator door opened. She crawled into the warm sunlight and lay there on the ground, breathing deeply, sucking in the fresh air, slowly getting back her energy. She turned toward the elevator. Toby was seated in the wheelchair, watching, waiting. Jill quickly pushed the chair out of the elevator. She started toward the swimming pool. It was a beautiful, cloudless day, warm and balmy, the sun sparkling on the blue, filtered water. Jill rolled the wheelchair to the edge of the deep end of the pool and set (he brake. She walked around to the front of the chair. Toby's eyes were fixed on her, watchful, puzzled. Jill reached for the strap holding Toby into the chair, and tightened it as hard as she could, pulling on it,--yanking it with all that was left of her strength,'feeling herself growing dizzy again with the effort. Suddenly if was done. Jill watched Toby's eyes change as he realized what was happening, and they began to fill with a wild, demonic panic. Jill released the brake, grasped the handle of the wheelchair and started to push it toward the water. Toby was trying to move his paralyzed lips, trying to scream, but no sound came out, and the effect was terrifying. She could not bear to look into his eyes. She did not want to know. She shoved the wheelchair to the very edge of the pool. And it stuck. It was held back by the cement lip. She pushed harder, but it would not go over. It was as though Toby were holding the chair back by sheer willpower. Jill could see him straining to rise out of the chair, fighting for his life. He was going to get loose, free himself, reach out for

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her throat with his bony fingers ... She could hear his voice screaming, I don't want to die... I don't want to die, and she did not know whether it was her imagination or whether it was real, but in a rush of panic, she found a sudden strength and shoved as hard as she could against the back of the wheelchair. It lurched forward, upward into the air, and hung there, motionless, for what seemed an eternity, then rolled into the pool, hitting with a loud splash. The wheelchair seemed to float on top of the water for a long time, then slowly began to sink. The eddies of the water turned the chair around, so that the last thing Jill saw was Toby's eyes damning her to hell as the water dosed over them.

She stood there forever, shivering in the warm noonday sun, letting the strength flow back into her mind and body. When she was finally able to move again, she walked down the steps of the swimming pool to wet her bathing suit. Then she went into the house to telephone the police.

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Toby Temple's death made newspaper headlines all over the world. If Toby had become a f oft hero, then Jffl had become a heroine. Hundreds of thousands of words were printed about them, their photographs appeared in all the media. Their great love story was told and retold, the tragic ending giving it an even greater poignancy. Letters and telegrams of condolence streamed in from heads of state, housewives, politicians, millionaires, secretaries. The world had suffered a personal loss; Toby had shared the gift of his laughter with his fans, and they would always be grateful. The air waves were filled with praise for him, and each network paid tribute to him. There would never be another Toby Temple. The inquest was held at the Criminal Court Building on Grand Avenue in downtown Los Angeles, in a small, compact courtroom. An inquest examiner was in charge of the hearings, guiding the panel of six jurors. The room was packed to overflowing. When Jill arrived, the photographers and reporters and fans mobbed her. She was dressed in a simple black tailored wool suit. She wore no makeup and she had never looked more beautiful. In the few days that had elapsed since Toby's death, Jill had miraculously bloomed into her old self again. For the first time in months, she was able to sleep soundly and dreamlessly. She had a voracious appetite and her headaches had disappeared. The demon that had been draining her life away was gone. Jill had talked to David every day. He had wanted to come to the inquest, but Jill insisted that he stay away. They would have enough time together later. "The rest of our lives," David had told her.

There were six witnesses at the inquest. Nurse Gallagher, Nurse Gordon and Nurse Johnson testified about the general routine of their patient, and his condition. Nurse Gallagher was giving her testimony. - "What time were you supposed to go off duty on &e morning in question?" the inquest examiner asked. "At ten." "What time did you actually leave?" Hesitation. "Nine-thirty." "Was it your custom, Mrs. Gallagher, to leave your patient before your shift was up?" "No, sir. That was the first time." "Would you explain how you happened to leave early .on that particular day?" "It was Mrs. Temple's suggestion. She wanted to be alone with her husband." "Thank you. That's all." Nurse Gallagher stepped down from the stand. Of course Toby Temple's death was an accident, she thought It's a pity that they had to put a wonderful woman like fill Temple through this ordeal. Nurse Gallagher looked over at Jill and felt a quick stab of guilt. She remembered the night that she had gone into Mrs. Temple's bedroom and found her asleep in a chair. Nurse Gallagher had quietly turned out the lights and closed the door so that Mrs. Temple would not be disturbed. In the dark hallway. Nurse Gallagher had brushed against a vase on a pedestal and it had fallen and broken. She had meant to tell Mrs. Temple, but the vase had looked very expensive, and so, when Mrs. Temple had not mentioned it^ Nurse Gallagher decided to say nothing about it.

The physiotherapist was on &e witness stand. "You usually gave Mr. Temple a treatment every day?" "Yes, sir." "Did this treatment take place in the swimming pool?" "Yes, sir. The pool was heated to a hundred degrees, and--" "Did you give Mr. Temple a treatment on the date in question?" "No, sir." "Would you tell us why?" "She sent me away." "By 'she', you mean Mrs. Temple?" "Right." "Did she give you any reason?" "She said Dr. Kaplan didn't want him to have no more treatments." "And so you left without seeing Mr. Temple?" "That's correct. Yeah."

Dr. Kaplan was on the stand. "Mrs. Temple telephoned you after the accident, Dr. Kaplan. Did you examine the deceased as soon as you arrived at the scene?" "Yes. The police had pulled the body out of the swimming pool. It was still strapped into the wheelchair. The police surgeon and I examined the body and determined that it was too late for any attempt at resusdtation. Both lungs were filled with water. We could detect no vital signs." "What did you do then. Dr. Kaplan?" "I took care of Mrs. Temple. She was in a state of acute hysteria. I was very concerned about her." "Dr. Kaplan, did you have a previous discussion with Mrs. Temple about discontinuing therapy treatments?" "I did. I told her I thought they were a waste of time." "What was Mrs. Temple's reaction to that?" Dr. Kaplan looked over at Jill Temple and said, "Her reaction was very unusual. She insisted that we keep trying." He hesitated. "Since I am under oath and since this inquest jury is interested in hearing the truth, I feel there is something I am obliged to say." A complete hush had fallen over the room. Jill was staring at him. Dr. Kaplan turned toward the jury box. "I would like to say, for the record, that Mrs. Temple is probably the finest and bravest woman I have ever had the honor to know." Every eye in the courtroom turned toward Jill. "The first time her husband suffered a stroke, none of us thought he had a chance of recovery. Well, she nursed him back to health single-handedly. She did for him what no doctor I know could have done. I could never begin to describe to you her devotion or dedication to her husband." He looked over to where Jill was sitting and said, "She is an inspiration to all of us." The spectators broke out into applause. "That will be all, Doctor," the inquest examiner said. "I would like to call Mrs. Temple to the stand." They watched as Jill rose and slowly walked over to the witness stand to be sworn in. ' 'I know what an ordeal this is for you, Mrs. Temple, and I will try to get it over with as quickly as possible." "Thank you." Her voice was low. "When Dr. Kaplan said he wanted to discontinue the therapy treatments, why did you want to go ahead with them?" She looked up at him and he could see the <^eep pain in her eyes. "Because I wanted my husband to have every chance to get well again. Toby loved life, and I wanted to bring him back to it. I -- " Her voice faltered, but she went on.. "I had to help him myself." "On the day of your husband's death, the physiotherapist came to the house, and you sent him away." "Yes." "Yet, earlier, Mrs. Temple, you said you wanted those treatments to continue. Can you explain your action?" "It's very simple. I felt that our love was the only thing strong enough to heal Toby. It had healed him before..." She broke off, unable to continue. Then, visibly steeling herself, she continued in a harsh voice, "I had to let him know how much I loved him, how much I wanted him to get well again." Everyone in the courtroom was leaning forward, straining to hear every word.

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"Would you tell us what happened on the morning of the accident?" There was a silence that lasted for a full minute while Jill gathered her strength, and then she^ spoke. "I went into Toby's room. He seemed so glad to see me. I told him that I was going to take him to the pool myself, that I was going to make him well again. I put on a bathing suit so that I could work with him in the water. When I started to lift him off the bed into his wheelchair, I -- I became faint. I suppose I should have realized then that I wasn't physically strong enough to do what I was trying to do. But I couldn't stop. Not if it was going to help him. I put him in the wheelchair and talked to him all the way down to the pool. I wheeled him to the edge...." She stopped, and there was a breathless hush in the room. The only sound was the susurration of the reporters' pens as they frantically scribbled on their shorthand pads. "I reached down to undo the straps that held Toby in the wheelchair, and I felt faint again and started to fall. I -- I must have accidentally released the brake. The chair started to roll into the pool. I tried to grab it, but it--it went into the pool with -- with Toby strapped into it." Her voice was choked. "I jumped into the pool after him and fougnfto free him, but the straps were too tight. I tried to lift the chair out of the water, but it was -- it was too heavy. -It... was ... just... too... heavy." She closed her eyes a moment to hide her deep anguish. Then, almost in a whisper, "I tried to help Toby, and I killed him." It took the inquest jury less than three minutes to reach a verdict: Toby Temple had died in an accident.

Clifton Lawrence sat in the back of the courtroom and listened to the verdict. He was certain that Jill had murdered Toby. But there was no way to prove it. She had gotten away with it. The case was closed.

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The funeral was standing room only. It was held at Forest Lawn on a sunny August morning, on the day Toby Temple was to have started his new television series. There were thousands of people milling about the lovely, rolling grounds, trying to get a look at all the celebrities who were there to pay their last respects. Television cameramen photographed the funeral services in long shots and zoomed in for close ups of the stars and producers and directors who were at the graveside. The President of the "United States had sent an emissary. There were governors present, studio heads, presidents of' large corporations, and representatives from every guild that Toby had belonged to: SAG and AFTRA and ASCAP and AGVA. The president of the Beveriy Hills branch of the Veterans of Foreign Wars was there in full uniform. There were contingents from the local police and fire departments. And the little people were there. The grips and prop men and extras and stunt men who had worked with Toby Temple. The wardrobe mistresses and the best boys and the go-fers and the gaffers and the assistant directors. And there were others, and all of them had come to pay homage to a great American. O'Hanlon and Rainger were there, remembering the skinny little kid who had walked into their office at Twentieth Century-Fox. I understand you fellas are going to write some jokes for me.... He uses his hands like he's chopping wood. Maybe we could write a woodchopper act for him... . He pushes too hard. .. . Jesus, with that material