“Plato? Sorry to wake you, dear, but it’s time for work anyway.”
“Yes, Cal.”
“I talked Sandy Aaronson into seeing your patients this morning. I have a favor to ask.”
“What now?” Plato groaned, lying back and pulling the pillow over his head. This investigation was getting out of hand.
“Well, you remember our talk about Jan Thorndyke? I think you’re right. She didn’t kill Rufus.”
“Thank you,” he replied warily.
“But you see, Plato, she’s going home this morning.”
“That’s nice.”
There was a pause. “And she doesn’t feel safe. I don’t blame her. Somewhere out there, the person who killed her husband is walking around free. Someone already tried to kill Mrs. Reiss. Jan’s worried that they might come after her.”
“Mmph.”
“Plato? Could you come, please? She asked me to go to the house with her, to be sure it’s okay. I’d like you to come along.”
What could an obstetrician do against a murderer? Wave a pair of forceps at him? Threaten to suture his nose to his lips? But there was no use arguing. “Okay. Let me shower first.”
Before the Thorndyke house, a pale silver Cadillac waited in the swirling morning mist. Jan sighed, put her head in her hand. “Someone you know?” Plato asked.
“My father.”
From the back seat, Cal patted her shoulder. “If you’d like, Plato and I can—”
“No.” She turned to face them. “Please come in with me. I may have given you the wrong impression. Daddy isn’t such an ogre. It’s just that since Mother died, I’m the only family he’s got. He’s terribly lonely.”
Cal glanced at her husband. “Okay. At least we can help you get settled.”
Gage emerged from his car as they mounted the steps and rushed to help with Jan’s bag. “Good to see you again, Plato. And this is—”
“Calista Marley,” Cal answered, shaking his hand. “I’m Plato’s wife. I’m also a pathologist at the hospital.”
“Such an interesting name. And so appropriate.”
Cal blushed.
“In Greek, it means ‘beautiful,’ ” Plato explained, seeing Jan’s confusion.
She smiled and showed them to the study. “This was always my favorite room.”
Heavy oak shelves lined the walls. Two full-length windows looked east across the fog. Red leather chairs squatted in the corner, near an antique globe.
After they were seated, Jan asked, “Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“Nonsense,” Cal admonished, rising to her feet. “You just show me where things are; I’ll get them ready.”
“How is the investigation going?” asked Dr. Gage. He sat back and crossed his legs.
“I don’t really know much about it,” Plato lied. “Of course, you heard that Leonard Reiss was in an accident last night.”
Gage’s face darkened. “No, I hadn’t.”
“Mrs. Reiss is a patient of yours?”
“Yes. Yes, she is.”
Cal returned shortly with a silver tea set. While she was serving, the doorbell rang. A moment later, Martin Callahan appeared in the doorway beside Jan. Dressed in a suit of glossy black silk, he looked as sleek as ever.
“Good morning, everyone. I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Father, this is Martin Callahan,” Jan said. “My father, Nicholas Gage.”
“A pleasure,” Gage muttered, rising and shaking hands. It was clear that he was losing patience with his daughter’s visitors. “Jan, you’re tired. Perhaps we should all—”
“That’s okay, Father. Really.” She addressed the group. “Please stay for a while. I don’t want to be alone just yet.”
“Certainly. I wanted to offer my condolences, er, about Rufus.” For once, Callahan’s voice lacked its customary smoothness.
“Thank you, Martin.” Taking a seat across from her father, Jan grimaced. Sipping her tea, she complained, “Since I got home, my stomach’s been bothering me again.”
“All this activity.” Gage waggled a finger. “You should be in bed. Your system’s had a nasty shock.”
“I’ll be just fine.” Jan smiled, and her blonde hair glowed in the lamplight. She reached into her purse, pulled out a pill bottle. “Remember how Rufus always made me carry these stomach pills around? The ones you prescribed for him? Rufus would hunt through my purse for them whenever he felt sick. I don’t know why I didn’t take one at the party.”
It was like a slow-motion sequence. Before anyone could move, she unscrewed the lid and tipped a capsule into her hand. Cal caught her arm before she could raise it to her mouth.
“Wait!”
Jan looked at her, startled.
“Has Sheriff Cameron checked those pills?”
She shook her head dumbly.
Softly, Cal said, “I think he’d better.”
Like an obedient child, Jan glanced down at the pill in her hand and gave it to Cal. A dam of tears broke and flooded her cheeks.
Gage sat still as a statue. The blood had drained from his face.
She looked up at him for the first time. “Can’t you see? Sometimes you don’t
Her voice was perfectly calm, level, lifeless. Slowly, she rose from her chair and walked out of the room.
