Death Qualified (39 page)

    "He knew their importance, I suppose."

    "On Sunday he was in Toronto, and on Monday he flew back to hire detectives to find your work. Is that what you're saying?"

    "I.. .. Yes."

    "What name were they provided, Dr. Brandywine? Tom Mann or Lucas Kendricks?"

    "It would have been Tom Mann. That was the name he was using."

    "Then why did they go to Lucas Kendricks's parents' house? Why did they track his trail through the forest?

    Why did they plant a listening device on the property of the wife of Lucas Kendricks? Didn't you tell them exactly where his wife lived, where he might be heading?"

    " Objection Tony yelled.

    At the same moment, Gregory Erlich leaped to his feet;

    his great voice filled the courtroom.

    "Your Honor, this is improper, this is harassment of the vilest--" Judge Lundgren banged his gavel and glared at them all.

    "Mr. De Angelo "I object. It has not been established who did the things counsel is talking about. The questions are improper."

    "Sustained," he snapped. He turned his furious eyes to Gregory Erlich.

    "Sir?"

    "I concur with the prosecuting attorney, Your Honor.

    No basis exists for those questions. My client has already said she did not hire the agency. She has been trying to cooperate in a very difficult " Judge Lundgren tapped the gavel, softly this time, but enough to cut him off. He looked at Barbara.

    "I will tolerate no browbeating, no harassment of a witness in my court. I believe you know your questions were improper.

    If you persist with such improper methods, I have no re course but to find you in contempt of court a second time.

    You may proceed."

    Barbara nodded very slightly and turned back to Ruth Brandywine.

    "Did you ever consult with the detectives that Dr. Schumaker hired?"

    There was only a hint of hesitation before she said no.

    "Did you ever sit in on any such consultation?"

    "I .. . yes. They talked in my presence."

    "And who else was there?"

    "Dr. Schumaker and Dr. Margolis."

    "So the three of you, the three people who had done papers together that all used a hypnotized subject with the initials LK, were together while Dr. Schumaker talked to the detectives. Is that right?"

    "Yes."

    "Did you see any of the reports the detectives made?"

    "No. Never."

    "Did you discuss them?"

    "I don't remember doing so."

    "Did they make tape recordings of conversations at Nell Kendricks's property?"

    "I don't know."

    "So who was given the information the detectives were gathering?"

    Ruth Brandywine's face did show a change then, a minute tightening, a firming of her mouth, a gleam in her piercing black eyes. It vanished almost instantly.

    "Dr.

    Schumaker," she said then.

    "He handled all of that. And I know nothing about it."

    Barbara kept at it all afternoon, sometimes getting an admission, often getting objections, or sitting and waiting for the private consultations to end. She felt as if she were trying to chip granite with a feather duster.

    It was late in the day when she said, "Someone paid for his room and board, roughly six thousand dollars a year for seven years. You paid him a stipened for manual work, and some research that you won't talk about. Someone carefully kept his car for seven years, his wallet with all the money he withdrew from his account. You believe you might have helped pay for the detectives who were hired by Dr. Schumaker. You cut short your trip to England, and Dr. Schumaker flew to Toronto one day and home the next day because he was gone. Why, Dr. Brandywine? We are talking about many, many thousands of dollars. Why was Lucas Kendricks, or Tom Mann, worth that kind of money?"

    There were objections, and in the end Ruth Brandywine said, "The research was important, not the man. I just wanted my research to be completed."

    It was nearly five when Barbara was finished. She felt finished in every bone, every muscle, every nerve. Ruth Brandywine looked as impervious as she had early that morning.

    The courtroom was crowded; big names had been introduced, and the case had exploded into a whole new pattern.

    Judge Lundgren was bitter when he said he would sequester the jury over the weekend. When the judge left, and the jury was led out, Tony was in a head-to-head conference with the district attorney. Big names, Barbara thought, had brought out the top man. There would be more conferences while they decided how to handle the perjury of Dr. Ruth Brandywine, how involved they would get, who else would be brought in for questioning. She made a bet with herself that the DA would handle that part of it, not Tony; the names suddenly had become big enough to guarantee a lot of publicity. Tough shit, she thought derisively. She picked up her purse and her briefcase and prepared to meet the press.

    Instead, she realized that Nell was still there, waiting to say something. Her face was pinched; she looked very tired. She took Barbara's hand and looked up at her. Tears were in her eyes.

    "Whatever happens from now on," she said softly.

    "No matter what it is, I'm grateful. Thank you so very much."

    Barbara felt nothing but confusion.

    "He didn't stay away because he was tired of us, of me," Nell said in the same low voice.

    "She kept him.

    She made him a prisoner. And he escaped and came home.

    He was laughing, and happy. Thank you."

    TWENTY-SIX

    john and amy Kendricks had gone home for the weekend;

    they would be back early Monday. Amy had insisted that they leave for the next two days.

    "Nell needs to have some time with her kids," she had said firmly. John had looked embarrassed. He had been willing to hang around, just to be there if Nell needed anything, and had not realized that their presence might become a burden. Nell felt ashamed for feeling that way since they had been so good, but she was glad they were gone for a short time.

    Now she was reading to Carol. Downstairs, Travis was on the network on the computer, checking in, he said. And Clive was washing their dinner dishes. She tried to put him out of mind and concentrate on the words before her eyes, one of the Just So stories that she had loved as a child.

    "

    "And the elephant child spanked his aunt.. .."

    " Carol giggled and then laughed as the elephant child went through the family, spanking them all in turn with his new trunk. Nell put the book down and plumped the pillow, straightened the covers, tucked in the blanket.

    "Okay?"

    Carol pulled on her nose, held it, and said, "Oday."

    Nell laughed and leaned over to kiss her.

    "Monkey.

    Pleasant dreams."

    "Mom?" Carol said as Nell walked to the door.

    "Can I go to Michele's after school Monday? On the bus, I mean?"

    "I guess so. I'll talk to her mother tomorrow. Is it something special?"

    "No. She just asked me."

    Nell hesitated, holding the doorknob, looking back at her daughter who was so pink and clean and blond. Slowly she went back to the bed.

    "Is something wrong, honey?"

    Carol shook her head and pretended a yawn, but almost immediately she said, "You won't go to jail, will you?"

    Nell sat down on the side of the bed and took her daughter by the shoulders, pulled her to a sitting position.

    "No way, Jose. I'm going to stay right here and finish reading that book and a hundred more to you." She watched Carol's face until it was relaxed again, and then drew the child hard against her breast and held her, stroking her silky hair, until Carol started to squirm.

    "And in the morning, waffles," Nell said.

    "With raspberry jam. Deal?"

    Carol nodded, then yawned a legitimate yawn.

    "Deal," she said. She wriggled her way back under the covers; one hand reached out to pull a stuffed Pooh bear close, and she yawned again. Nell went to the door.

    "Good night, honey," she said softly. She left the door open about an inch, the way she always did, and moved away from it, but then she leaned against the wall with her eyes closed hard. The fear surged and ebbed and surged again.

    After a few moments she went down the stairs, only to pause again, this time at the bottom, listening to Travis explain a complicated game to Clive.

    "You get to ask two questions, and everyone in the game gets to see them and the answers, so you've got to be careful what you ask."

    The alien game, she realized. An alien was loose some 7 where in the United States and the players were trying to find him/her/it. One of the players was concealing it. She smiled faintly. Travis could hardly wait until he was The Keeper, the one who tried to hide the alien. She entered the living room where Clive was standing at Travis's side at the computer.

    "One down," she said cheerfully.

    "Any of that pie left?"

    Clive had brought apple pie, made by Lonnie that after noon. He grinned and went to the kitchen with her.

    "He's playing with kids from Atlanta, Chicago, who knows where else? I had no idea stuff like that was going on."

    "I know. I was thinking that I should take them on a car trip, a long trip, just so they get an idea of the size of the real world. I don't think he suspects how far away Atlanta actually is, or New York." She cut a piece of pie;

    she had not wanted any after dinner, but, now, an hour or two later, dessert was welcome. They sat at the kitchen table where she could see Travis at the computer, intent on the game. So like Lucas, she thought. So very like his father.

    "Doesn't it get pricey? Long-distance calls and all?"

    "Not as bad as you'd think. He's on a budget, ten dollars a month, and after that, if he goes over, it comes out of his allowance." She looked at her son again, and the thought came, as clear as it was irrational, that he was using the computer to build a wall, that he was filling every waking moment with school, homework, and now computer games in order to erect a three-sided haven that was too constricted to admit her. After the first bite of pie, she realized that she didn't want it after all. Travis made one of those curious, incomplete gestures and snorted with laughter; he attacked the keyboard again.

    "You didn't eat any dinner, and now you're just playing with the pie," Clive said in a low voice.

    "Lonnie said to tell you she picked those apples herself, and they've never been sprayed."

    Nell took another bite.

    "And she's picked out a new victim," Clive said.

    "Schumaker, and maybe Brandywine, too. But Schumaker for certain."

    "Good!" Nell said.

    "If she needs any help, you know, with rat poison or something, tell her...." She looked down at her plate when the realization hit her that she could not say something like that, maybe never again.

    "I told her I'd be her accomplice, but she said it was to be a one-woman job or it won't count. I asked her if she planned to go to Denver, and she said she can wait for him to show up."

    "He'll be sorry if he does," she murmured.

    "Barbara will slap him with a subpoena, too, I'll bet."

    "Nell, will you marry me? Please," he said suddenly.

    His voice was husky, and he looked surprised at the words tumbling out like this.

    "Shhh," she said.

    "Not now. Don't ask now. After this is all over, behind us, then ask. I can't think of anything now."

    "But now is when you need someone. We can get married right away, and I'll file adoption papers. Now. Next week, as soon as possible."

    She felt as if her little house had been set adrift on a storm-roughed sea all at once. The floor was rising and falling, the table was shifting, losing its solidity; even the air seemed to darken and thicken.

    "Oh, God! Here, put your head down. This way." He forced her head down, and soon blood began to circulate again. She pushed his hands away after a moment and got to her feet, his hand on her arm, steadying her.

    "How dumb can you get?" she muttered.

    "Me, I mean.

    Not you. I want a drink of water. I'm okay now." But she felt moonbeam-light, as if she might drift up from the floor with every step.

    They went to the sink, where she grasped the edge of the counter while he ran water and filled a glass.

    "God, Nell, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that to you!