Cold Judgment (15 page)

“Anything's fine as long as it doesn't have caffeine. I want to sleep all the way to Chicago.”

Her nerves were still on edge. Nora felt her legs tremble as she sat down on the bench. It was no use trying to relax yet. When her train pulled out of the station, she'd finally be safe. Then she could lock the compartment door behind her and take two Valiums, just like Elena had told her to. It would be a tremendous relief to sleep.

Nora took a grateful sip of the orange juice that Mac brought for her. Her throat was dry and her hands were still shaking. The minute hand on the big clock over the doorway was stuck. It didn't move at all for five minutes, and then it jumped ahead to the next number. Nora watched the seconds sweep by on her watch. At least time was passing. Soon her ordeal would be over.

Just when she thought she'd scream from the waiting, the loudspeaker crackled with a burst of static. A man's voice said something about boarding at track six. Nora assumed it was her train. It was impossible to tell from the announcement. Either the transportation industry sent its employees to a special school to learn how to mumble, or the same speech-impaired voice was prerecorded for train stations, bus depots, and airports all over the country.

“Mac?” Nora held his arm tightly as he walked her to the track. “If . . . if anything happens . . . take care of Elena for me.”

“Nothing's going to happen.” Mac hugged her hard as they came out of the tunnel and walked to the train. It was noisy and he put his lips next to her ear. “You're safe now, Nora. Call me every night and I'll give you a progress report. We'll catch him. Don't worry.”

Nora turned to wave as the conductor helped her up the steps. There were tears in her eyes. Even though she knew it was silly, she had the terrible premonition that she would never see Mac again.

CHAPTER 21

Mac got to the theater just as the third act was about to begin. He slipped into his seat on the aisle and grinned at Elena and Debbie.

“I stayed until the train pulled out of the station. Nora waved at me from the window.”

“Oh, thank God!” Elena smiled weakly. “I'm so glad it's over!”

Elena sighed as the act began. April was very good, but it was impossible to compare her to Nora. She had faltered in a couple of spots, although the dance routine had gone well. Naturally tonight's performance was difficult for April. She ought to be thankful that she was here, and not in New York. The Minneapolis audience was always polite. They tended to give an actress the benefit of the doubt. The house was filled, despite Nora's absence, and there had been a burst of spontaneous applause after the dance number.

The New York audience was jaded. Half of them would have walked out before the play started, muttering angrily about the replacement and demanding a refund. In New York a play was a hit or a flop. There was nothing in between. April should consider herself fortunate that she had made her debut at the Guthrie.

Mac moved restlessly in his seat. Missing the first two acts was a definite handicap and he found it difficult to follow the play. Debbie was engrossed. She smiled as he took her hand, but she turned right back to the action on the stage. He found himself watching Debbie instead of the play, studying her face in the dim light from the stage.

She really looked gorgeous tonight. Mac thought she had done something different with her hair. It was pulled up in some sort of knot on top of her head and her neck looked long and graceful. Mac wanted to lean over and kiss the soft skin at the nape of her neck, but that was hardly appropriate now. He found himself wishing that the play would end so he could be alone with her.

The house lights came up at last. It was over. The audience had obviously enjoyed the performance. They gave April three curtain calls. If Nora had played the lead, Mac was sure she would have received a standing ovation.

They stayed in their seats until the crowd had thinned out. Then Elena led them backstage to meet the cast. Everyone was hugging and kissing. Someone passed around plastic glasses of champagne, and Mac and Debra hung back a bit, letting Elena field the questions about Nora. Finally most of the cast left for their dressing rooms.

“Are you sure you don't want to come to the opening night party?” Elena drew them away from the crowd. “My meeting won't last more than twenty minutes.”

“Not this time.” Mac gave Elena a hug. “We'll pick you up at noon tomorrow to go to the airport. Try to relax and get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

Elena nodded, but the worried look stayed on her face. Mac doubted that she'd get much sleep tonight. Elena wouldn't relax until she was in Chicago with Nora.

“Let's stop for a steak on the way home.” Mac held Debbie's arm as they left the theater. “I just realized I'm hungry. We haven't eaten since breakfast.”

Debra pulled Nora's sealskin coat tightly around her. The wind was blowing and it was starting to snow again. Her high-heeled boots crunched against the snow as they followed the path to the parking lot.

“It's almost eleven, Mac. Nora must be halfway to Chicago by now. We really ought to do something to celebrate.”

“We'll go to the Camelot.” Mac opened the car door for Debbie. “I can't take you just anywhere in that coat. No more hash houses and hot dog stands for you. Nora was right. That fur coat is already changing your life.”

 

 

The train was moving at last! Nora watched the lights of the city rush past her window. The danger was over. She was safe now.

She smiled as she walked to the table and sat down. The split of champagne icing in the silver bucket was her absolute favorite, Dom Pérignon. It had been waiting for her when the porter unlocked the door to her compartment. There'd been a package next to it, wrapped in gold paper. The porter had said it had been delivered before she'd boarded.

There was nothing like a surprise to make her feel better. Nora opened the present carefully. Inside was a small crystal box, handmade and delicate. She lifted the cut-glass cover and laughed. One perfect French truffle was nestled inside. There was no card, but Nora could guess who had sent it.

Only a few people knew her weakness for truffles. Elena, of course, and the members of the group. Nora had confessed that she was a chocoholic. Hershey's Kisses made her mouth water. Fanny Farmer candy shops drew her like a magnet with their clean white interiors and delectable aromas. Imported chocolates were even more dangerous. They sang the song of the sirens. Elena had standing instructions to pull her past all chocolate counters and show no mercy. Nora knew, from experience, that she could polish off a two-pound box of chocolates and go right back for more. It was a terrible affliction. But real French truffles, those creamy, rich, dark, exquisite confections, were the absolute epitome of decadence.

It was a plot. Nora laughed out loud. The truffle was calling to her. Thank God there was only one!

Kay wasn't part of the conspiracy. She didn't know that Nora was leaving town. That left Mac, Debra, and Elena. It was undoubtedly Elena's idea. They had probably pooled their money to buy her this wonderful bon voyage present.

Nora blinked back grateful tears. They had known she'd be nervous all alone on the train. It showed that they were thinking of her, that they loved her.

A single hollow-stemmed Tiffany glass sat next to the silver bucket. Nora smiled. There was no way she'd deprive herself of her favorite things even though the warning on her bottle of Valium said not to mix the drug with alcohol. She had been taking Valium for three years now. And she usually had a glass of wine at night to unwind. She had noticed no ill effects from the combination before.

Nora got up to put the PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB sign on the outside of the door. She undressed and slipped into her silk nightgown, hanging her clothes up carefully so they wouldn't wrinkle. She'd have to wear this same outfit tomorrow until Elena arrived at the airport with her suitcase.

The bottle of Dom Pérignon gave a soft, gentle pop as she opened it. The top always shot off like a rocket in plays or in movies. That was done entirely for dramatic effect. Nora knew that popping the cork forcefully bruised the wine. And even worse, most of it spilled out in the process. She had learned the proper way to open champagne very early in her life.

Nora poured the wine in her glass and studied the effect. It was lovely. The bubbles made a beautiful pattern in the Tiffany glass. She took a sip and smiled. This was pure luxury. Now she'd take her Valiums, eat the truffle as slowly as was humanly possible, and climb right into bed.

The train whistle blew as she opened the bottle of Valium and shook two blue pills out into her hand. It was a lonely sound, mournful but intrinsically exciting. There was something about train travel that captured the romance that was missing from airplanes or buses. If Elena were here, this would be an adventure. They could sip champagne and let the train carry them away into the night. She loved Elena so much, she might even share the truffle, although that was doubtful. There were some sacrifices that even a perfect lover had no right to expect.

Nora laughed as she swallowed the Valiums. She felt like a wealthy degenerate, washing down her pills with one of the most expensive champagnes in the world. She picked up the truffle and sighed happily.

Oh, it was marvelous! Nora took a small nibble and smiled as the dark, bitter chocolate melted on her tongue. She had intended to eat it slowly, savoring each tiny morsel, but her willpower vanished with the first heavenly taste. Nora popped the truffle into her mouth and moaned in ecstasy. It was divine, the best truffle she'd ever tasted.

In a moment it was gone. She was left with a memory of dissolving chocolate and a smudge of cocoa on her fingers. Nora licked them until not a trace of chocolate remained. Then she took another sip of champagne and sighed deeply. She would have to remember to ask Elena where she had gotten the truffle. She wanted a dozen more, just like it.

Her glass was almost empty and Nora filled it again. She would sit right here and drink it all. Two glasses would be perfect. Then she'd sleep like a baby, all the way to Chicago.

Nora lit a cigarette and smoked it down to the filter. She was beginning to feel a bit light-headed from the combination of the champagne and the Valiums. Perhaps it was time for bed.

She got up from the table and made her way to the berth, weaving slightly. The room was spinning a bit and it was difficult to focus her eyes. She wasn't sure if her unsteadiness was due to the Valiums, the champagne, or the rocking motion of the train, but it was definitely time to sleep. Her eyelids felt heavy and she sighed as she stretched out between the clean sheets and closed her eyes.

Her toes were cold and numb. Nora managed to pull up the blanket, even though her arms felt leaden. The cold numbness crept up to her legs and she shivered.
They really should keep these compartments warmer,
she thought.
Passengers could freeze in the winter.
Perhaps the porter had forgotten to turn up the heat.

Nora considered crawling out of bed and ringing for the porter, but it was just too much effort. She'd warm up in a minute. It was really a pity Elena wasn't there. Elena was always toasty warm. She was much better than an electric blanket on cold winter nights.

Elena. Nora's lips curved up in a smile. She had never loved anyone the way she loved Elena. The train whistle sounded again, but it was very faint in her ears. There was a small light on the dresser that was growing dimmer with each passing second. The rocking of the train had smoothed out and now it was perfectly steady. There was a rushing in her ears as the world went dark, and then all sound ceased.

 

 

Dr. Elias put the meerschaum back in its case. He took the last sip of port and glanced at his watch. It was past ten. Nora was dead.

The clerk had been helpful when Dr. Elias had explained that he was confirming his niece's reservation. Were they holding a compartment for her? The only reservation they had was for a Miss A. Christie. How strange. Perhaps he'd better call and check with his niece to make certain she was planning on leaving tonight.

Christie. Dr. Elias chuckled to himself. Nora was amazing. Her sense of humor would not be stifled, even by fear. And it had made things so very easy for him.

The delivery service had been delighted to take the package to the depot. A generous tip had ensured promptness. There would be no traces of the truffle left to analyze. Dr. Elias knew Nora would finish it all. She would take her prescribed Valium and crawl into her berth. Then the drug in the truffle would react with the Valium, causing a painless but fatal reaction that would resemble heart failure. It was neat and clean and quick.

Dr. Elias got up from his chair and walked painfully to his studio. It was impossible for Nora to resist her favorite vices. He had analyzed his plan again and there was no error. He knew it was time to paint in Nora's face, even though her body would not be discovered until the train pulled into the station in Chicago.

The group portrait was taking shape nicely. Dr. Elias smiled as he switched on the lights and examined his work. Father Marx looked relaxed. The lines of tension were gone from his face. Actually he looked much more handsome than he had ever looked in life. Tension was the great destroyer of beauty. He remembered touring a facility for the severely mentally retarded when he was an intern. He'd been amazed at how young the patients appeared to be, even though their median age was forty. A life without tension had certain compensations.

His hand was shaking as he squeezed paint on the pallet. Dr. Elias looked down and frowned. Could this be a guilt reaction?

The prospect was disquieting. Dr. Elias had never experienced feelings of misplaced or irrational guilt. He used logic to reach his decisions and fully accepted the consequences. He was much too stable to let his emotions rule his physical reactions. Could he possibly be suffering from the same problem that he had worked to cure in others?

It was extremely unlikely. Consciously, Dr. Elias knew that he was right. These systematic eliminations were necessary and unavoidable. He searched his thought processes carefully, but he could not identify any vestiges of guilt. Then why was his hand shaking as he prepared to paint Nora's face?

Of course! Dr. Elias gave a sigh of relief. It was after ten and he had delayed his regular injection. This was a purely physical reaction to the absence of the necessary drug in his system.

Earlier in the week, he had placed a packet containing his medication in every room of the penthouse. The disease was progressing and now he needed an injection every four hours to control the pain. Soon it would be necessary to increase the dosage as well.

Dr. Elias frowned as he mentally checked off his symptoms. Everything was proceeding according to the prognosis. It would be wise to gather his strength and escalate his work a bit. Soon his mobility would be severely curtailed and he would be confined to his penthouse, waiting for either the disease or the increased dosages of the narcotics he now had to take, to kill him. His time was running out and he had not yet finished his duty.

There was no time to waste on self-pity or personal concerns. Dr. Elias pulled out the drawer in his easel and removed the disposable syringe. In a few moments his hands would stop shaking and then he could finish Nora's portrait.

Dr. Elias smiled as he waited for the drug to take effect. He had closed Nora's case quite expeditiously. She was no longer a deadly menace. The terrors of her psychosis had ceased to plague her. Nora would look much younger without the ravages of fear on her face. It was possible that as much as ten years would be erased from her features. At last she would reach the age that she claimed. Yes, Nora would definitely approve if she could see her final portrait.