She’s not making any sense
, he thought.
Yet.
“Try not to get ahead of yourself, Carol. I need to hear the whole story, exactly as you remember it. Okay?”
“Yes, I’m sorry...” She hesitated, eyes aimed sideways, in search of thoughts. She wiped her nose with a tissue, then continued, “I told Dr Delaney that he’d arrived, and he went right in. The doctor had just finished up with his last patient about five minutes earlier.”
“And that patient left?”
“Yes. Gloria Moreland. Nice lady.”
Leonard scribbled down Gloria Moreland’s name, even though he felt certain it would play no significant role. “About what time was this?”
“A little after one.
Mr
Sparke
was late, which was strange because he’s usually fifteen or twenty minutes early.”
“So
Sparke
went into the doctor’s office at, say, one-fifteen?”
“Yes, about that.”
He wrote the time down, which was consistent with the time he and Kevin saw Richard entering the building. “Okay, what happened next?”
“That’s all.” Carol pursed her lips, as if disappointed for not having much else to divulge. “Until he left, that is...”
Leonard did a double take. “Until
who
left?”
“
Mr
Sparke
.”
“You mean...until he pushed you against the wall.”
Carol swallowed, a probable lump in her throat, glassy eyes weighing Leonard’s confusion. Her forehead was glistening. “No,
Mr
Sparke
left the office. He walked right past me while I was taking an appointment. He took the elevator down.”
Leonard couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Wait...are you trying to say that Richard
Sparke
left
the office before you were pushed?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“So then...who pushed you?”
“As I said before, I really didn’t see him.”
“Carol, are you certain it was Richard
Sparke
that walked passed you?”
“Yes, I’m absolutely positive.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“Actually, no, which I also thought was weird because he’s usually cordial. He’s been a regular around here for a long time. We’re on a first-name basis. I just figured that he’d had a poor session, or was preoccupied, or something. I really didn’t think much of it.”
“So it appears then...” Leonard hesitated,
goosebumps
rippling across his shoulders, “that there were
two
people in with Delaney.”
Carol nodded in agreement, but didn’t look altogether convinced.
“Hmm...this is weird.”
“Officer...it gets weirder.”
A headache was beginning to toy with various parts of Leonard’s brain, making the situation much harder to make sense of. It felt as if a prodding octopus were inside his head, spraying black ink across the faculties of his mind. He took some more notes, detailed them with hopes of looking at them later and having an obvious answer jump out at him. He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Kevin earlier, about there being a conceivable third party involved in Richard and Pam’s secret strategy. It had seemed remote at the time; now, it appeared a likelihood, given the alarming developments. Leonard gave himself a mental pat on the back for coming up with the idea, then brought his attention back to Carol.
“Try me,” he said, squinting in an effort to ward off the looming headache. Kevin walked over and when Leonard looked up the young cop gave him a real serious look, as if to say,
I’ve found something. Big
. Leonard held up a finger, returning in sign language,
just a minute
, then said, “Kevin, I’d like for you to hear this.” He nodded to Carol. “Go ahead, Carol.”
“Well, two things,” she said, dividing her attention between Leonard and Kevin. “First of all, when Mr.
Sparke
passed me to leave, he was wearing different clothes than when he first arrived. That’s why I mentioned his outfit earlier, the jeans and plaid shirt. But when he left, he was wearing tight black pants and a black shirt. I’d assumed he’d changed his clothes while in with Doctor Delaney, which I might add is very out of the ordinary. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that before. And secondly, I didn’t see or hear anyone else going into the office. No one passed by me to go in, and I didn’t hear the stairwell door open. I might have missed hearing someone come in through the stairs, especially if they were trying to be quiet, but without question I know that if someone else tried to enter the doctor’s office while he was in session, especially with
Mr
Sparke
, he would have had a fit. I definitely would have heard about it. Immediately.”
“Why do you say ‘especially with
Mr
Sparke
’?” Leonard asked.
“Doctor Delaney didn’t like being interrupted unless it was important, and has made it clear in the past that he didn’t want to be disturbed at all during
Mr
Sparke’s
sessions. Come to think of it, someone from the Fairview Police Department called while he was in session. I had to put them off. Is it possible they were on to something?”
“Probably unrelated.” Leonard grinned inwardly, realizing now that it was Carol he spoke to earlier when trying to find out when Richard would be getting out. He asked, “Why do you suppose
Sparke
was getting the preferential treatment from the doctor?”
“Can’t say for sure. But Dr Delaney has definitely taken a considerable interest in
Mr
Sparke
over the past couple of months.”
“How so?”
“Well for one,
Mr
Sparke
is the only patient that sees the doctor for two hours at a time. And sometimes the sessions go even longer than that. I’ve had to cancel some of his other patients because of this. Then, after
Mr
Sparke
leaves, Doctor Delaney might spend an hour or more by himself, during which time he asks not to be disturbed. And another thing...all the patient files are kept here at my desk, except for
Mr
Sparke’s
. His file is confidential.”
“Where is his file kept?”
“In the doctor’s office.”
Leonard eyeballed Kevin, who looked as if he might burst at the seams. “Carol, thank you very much for your time. I’d like for you to be examined by the paramedics before you leave. Also, if you can, leave your uniform behind, we want forensics to take a look at it.” He took down her phone number, then stepped aside to talk with Kevin.
“What’s up?”
“An elderly woman was just carjacked in the back parking lot by a man fitting
Sparke’s
description. He was wearing all black. At first I didn’t think it could be
Sparke
because the clothing didn’t match, but now it makes sense after hearing her story.”
“Where’s the woman now?”
“Gordon is getting her statement.”
“Is she injured?”
“A bit shaken up. The bastard held a screwdriver to her neck, but didn’t hurt her. She said the man told her that ‘he was innocent’, and that he ‘was dealt a bad hand’.”
Leonard pondered the defensive remarks. Was Richard
Sparke
a pawn in some wicked game? Or were his words a clever diversion? “Interesting. Sound like
Sparke
?”
“Who else?”
“Thing is, the nurse here says that
Sparke
left the scene under normal circumstances, and that she was surprised by a third person who shoved her away before she could get a glimpse of him. This ‘third’ person fled the scene through the stairwell.”
“Leaving bloody footprints behind.”
“Of course.”
“By any chance, did you catch what
Sparke
was wearing on his feet when he got off the bus?” Kevin asked.
“No.”
Kevin paused, rubbed his chin in thought. “Len, seems to me that
Sparke
murdered the doctor, and that somewhere along the line a third party entered the room, saw the murder, freaked out and ran, but not until after
Sparke
left the scene.”
“Same third party, perhaps, as Pam and Richard’s third party?” Leonard insinuated.
Kevin nodded. “Could very well be, no? He or she was spared in Richard’s kitchen.”
“And then again here.”
“Right.”
“But wouldn’t
Sparke
have had blood on him when he left?”
“
That’s
why he changed his clothes, Kevin!”
“To black, so none of it would show.”
“Resourceful guy, that
Sparke
.”
“So...assume for a moment that it
was
Sparke
who masterminded the doctor’s murder. Unless he took the jeans and plaid shirt he wore with him, they should still be in Delaney’s office, right?”
“In a perfect world, Kevin, perhaps. You and I both know that this odd world we’re suddenly a part of is far from perfect.”
There was a moment of silence between them, Leonard realizing that they were once again grasping at short straws. Then, suddenly, as if sent by telegram, an alarming and rather obvious recollection entered his mind. He was stricken with curiosity, took out the pad with Carol Davis’s notes on it and began jotting the thought.
“Len?”
He ignored Kevin until he finished writing, the rolling theories melting away from Leonard’s notion, bringing back the headache. “Yeah?”
“What are you writing?”
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier--damn it, we were discussing it just before!”
“What is it?”
“
Sparke
. And his ex-wife Samantha. The night she was beaten. I told you earlier that even though she initially blamed her husband, and that there was no evidence of forced entry into their house, the possibility of an intruder being responsible for her injuries was discussed.”
“Right, you said that the intruder either let himself in, or that
Sparke
...oh damn, I see what you’re getting at.”
“
Sparke
definitely let the intruder in because it was a person he knew.”
“A third party. You think there’s a connection?”
“Kevin, there has to be. It’s too coincidental.”
“Holy...” Kevin rubbed his cheeks, leaving them red and revealing his high level of astonishment. “Len, remember earlier, outside Pam’s apartment, when we said things were getting crazy?”
“Yeah...”
“They’ve just gotten a helluva lot crazier.”
“Either that, or we’re
really
over-scrutinizing everything.”
Captain Reese walked over, gave Leonard and Kevin a strong silent look that carried at least a dozen plausible interpretations, each and every one a question that would have to be answered sooner or later. “It’s gonna be a long night, boys. You up for it?”
Silently they eyed one another in mutual agreement--
yes we are, more than you can ever imagine
, their thoughts definitively lying--then followed Captain Reese into Marcus Delaney’s office.
The sun tailed off toward the west, still high in the sky but angled so its beams touched the canopy of leaves above in a reflective bounce. The trees were thick, trunks staggered like soldiers, their roots reaching underfoot in serpentine loops, threatening to take any passer-by to the carpet of bristling foliage. It was a game of hedge and dodge: don’t get bitten or you might get hurt.
Richard had been bitten three times, once real hard on the chin as a nice hunk of dry earth found his lower jaw--thanks to the aid of a thick curve of elm root twisting six inches above ground. Crumbs of rough bark and dead grass clung to his new clothes, dry soil matting the material at his elbows and knees.
Bathed in semi-gloom, Richard moved east away from the downtown area, across the thickest stretch of woodland Fairview had to offer. He caught brief glimpses of sunlight filtering in through thin patches in the treetops, giving him a breadcrumb-like trail to follow as he staggered further away from the scene of the crime.
Crickets were in abundance here, their ceaseless cries piercing to Richard’s strained psyche; on and on and on they went, like the incessant toll of a phone left off the hook, neither pine nor elm nor brush absorbing the racket as it filtered into his head, finding the nerves of his bones and rattling them until he felt his blood begin to boil.
How I wished I had my conscience to talk with, help calm me down and tell me that everything will be all right if I just...
Just what? What should I do next?
No answer from his conscience: it was still very much dead.
He felt for the security of the screwdriver in his pocket, just in case he might need to exercise it, using his other hand to brush aside errant brambles and branches as he pressed forward. He caught a palm-full of thorns, nearly screamed out in pain but choked it down for fear of pinpointing his location to anyone who might be out here seeking him.