“Is that when she thinks he started an affair?”
“She never said that. I've already told you, I just picked up some vibrations. It's my hunch. But maybe I misread the signs. Maybe I was wrong.”
“Honey, you're not usually wrong about these things. And what makes her so pure? Remember a few months ago I told you that I thought I saw her walking arm in arm with some guy out of a steak house on Forty-Seventh Street.”
“That means nothing. It was probably business.”
“Even so.”
“Even so nothing. Whatever either of them might have given into is gone now.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Simple. When she called and asked if we were going out this weekend and wanted a lift her whole attitude was different. She was anxious to see him. Even ventured that he'd changed. And all for the better, so I assume whatever it was he had going on was over. She also said they might be moving out West sometime soon. Said she might get a teaching job at a law school in California. I asked her if we could have first dibs on their apartment if they sell. She laughed at that. You don't laugh at the idea of selling your apartment unless you're either happily getting divorced or staying married. And I don't think they're getting divorced. Not after speaking to her.”
“I hope so. Amos is good people. They both are.”
Frances glances at the backseat just as Sara opens her eyes.
“We're only about an hour and a half away if the traffic holds.”
Sara nods and smiles just as her cell phone rings.
“It's Amos,” she says as she looks at the caller number unable to suppress a widening grin.
Stern wakes just after six and curses after he sees that Posner's car is gone. He resigns himself to wait. What else can he do? He wanders through the house he's appropriated and searches the kitchen. He finds a plastic bag with frozen bread in the freezer along with a quarter pound of butter. The only thing in the refrigerator is a large bottle of Evian. He unscrews the cap and drinks a third of the bottle. He checks the taps and confirms the water is still on and so he uses the bathroom. His face in the mirror is somehow unfamiliar. The deep shadows under his eyes confirm his recent stress.
While he slept, thoughts spun through his mind about how to confront Posner and whether to somehow engage the police to be there. He knows that if they're present he'll have to give up any idea of harming Posner, at least at that time. He still wants to either follow the man or drag him back to the overlook area to the spot where Heidi is buried. And he's sure of it. Sure that Heidi lies near where he saw Posner. That's why he's so mad at himself for not being awake when Posner left. He can't search the whole area without Posner to show him exactly where. At that moment, almost in mid-thought, he decides right there that his best plan of action is to just knock on Posner's door and take it from there. He finds a tube of toothpaste in the medicine cabinet and works a dollop of Colgate across his teeth with a finger. He needs a shave but doesn't bother. He doesn't need to be clean shaven to confront a murderer.
He moves back to the bedroom window with his binoculars and
waits for Posner to return. He picks up his cell phone and turns it on for only the third time since he left the city. There are two messages. The first is from Detective Wisdom from the East Hampton Police Department. They'd like to meet with him as soon as possible to review some aspects of the case. They'd tried his New York apartment, but he wasn't in, and would he please call them at his earliest convenience?
The second is from the neighbor he'd asked to get his mail. A policeman had stopped by to see if he knew where Stern was. That was all. He checks his home phone next. There's just the one message from Wisdom that repeats the sense of the one on his cell phone. He looks up just in time to see Posner pull his car up the driveway. He watches as the man moves into his house with an almost carefree abandon.
“Have you decided something, my friend? Well, I have. I'll see you soon. No doubt about it.” Stern laughs as he speaks, and the words tumble from his mouth with a hysterical edge.
He moves back to the kitchen and drinks more water. He checks the case holding the lethal needles. The only issue that remains is whether to contact Wisdom. For now, no one knows where he is. That's good, he thinks. Fuck the police.
Wisdom arrives at his desk later than normal, courtesy of his annual departmental physical. Except for a slightly elevated blood pressure reading, which will be rechecked in a month, everything else looks fine. A particular report he's been awaiting sits in his in-box buried under assorted other matters. It takes him almost an hour to get to it.
The report is a GPS summary of Stern's recent cell phone activity. There was a call to Welbrook's home from a site quite near Welbrook's home. Then two days ago he'd called Posner's home from somewhere in town. And this morning there were two calls: one to Stern's apartment and one to his cell phone voice mail. Both calls were made from a location only a few hundred feet from Posner's home. He asks the department's resident techie to check out and see if the calls were made from the street or a house. The GPS chip in Stern's phone is a new one, unlike Heidi's. This allows them to pinpoint the source of the call to within a few feet.
He checks in with the patrol cars doing drive-by surveillance on Posner's home. No blue car was seen in the vicinity on any drive-by over the past day. He asks patrol to go back again over an area within a few hundred feet of Posner's house while he waits for a more exact answer. He tells them to look for any sign of human activity. Do the houses look occupied? Any lights on? Are there cars in the driveway? Anyone walking in the street?
Looking at the report, it has occurred to Wisdom that Stern may have left the blue car somewhere else and could be hiding in the area.
How else could he explain the location of the source of the calls and the absence of the blue car? He decides he will need to advise Posner to stay indoors until he visits him.
He calls, but Posner's line is busy. Then he dials Brigid's number. She answers after three rings.
“It's Detective Wisdom here.”
“Hello, Detective. How can I help you? Are we on for tomorrow?”
“Not sure yet about tomorrow, although I frankly doubt it. But there is something I have to tell you. I should have mentioned it already, but I first thought it better not to be too specific.”
“Please go on.”
Brigid is being quite formal, and the tone makes Wisdom all the more comfortable.
“There are two possible suspects who might be involved in Heidi's disappearance. One's a local from out here. The other is a doctor with whom she had a relationship when they worked at the same hospital. The doctor hasn't been home for a few days, and we have reason to believe he's stalking the guy who lives out here.”
“Because the man who lives out here is responsible?”
“Maybe. But we think it's more likely that the doctor is the one involved because of jealousy and that he's trying to shift suspicion to the guy out here.”
“So what do you want to do?”
Wisdom smiles at her pronunciation of what and want, with a vee instead of a wah sound.
“First, I wanted to advise you that if these two men meet up, there could be some danger. We already know that the local guy's been followed and we also know that the doctor's been traced to near where the local guy lives. In short, I don't think we should go ahead with the plan, at least for now.”
“But if not now, then when? I really do need to go back to Geneva in the next few weeks.”
“I know, but I won't risk the possibility of putting you in any danger. It's neither smart nor department policy.”
“So that's it? The whole idea to try and trap one of these people is over. Just like that. After all the planning and your meetings with your superiors.”
She pauses for a breath, but Wisdom is silent.
“You're telling me it's all over. I'll go back home and never know what happened.”
“That's not true. We'll continue to look into this. Fact is, I'm planning to stop by the local guy's house sometime later today. Maybe the doctor might even show up. Anyway, I'll stay on this disappearance till we find out what happened to her. Believe me.”
“I do believe you, Detective; I'm just not satisfied with your decision.”
Wisdom hears the connection go dead, but if it hadn't, and he understood her faintly mumbled mixture of Farsi and German, he would have heard Brigid speak aloud to herself about what she planned to do next without his help.
The decision makes her a bit nervous, yet she continues to plan details without hesitation. She will wear “the dress.” That's what she's come to call it, “the dress.” She pulls it from the closet and checks the seams and length. She's only worn it that one time when Wisdom came to the house. She did feel dirty as she told him, but she also felt that it gave her a different look and ultimately a power she'd never experienced before.
She lays the dress out on the bed together with a bra designed to enhance her cleavage. She knows the effect it had on Wisdom and assumes it will be the same with the others. She's already showered and washed her hair. There is nothing more to do now except dress, but first she kisses her ears with a daub of Heidi's favorite Lanvin perfume. In minutes she's ready.
Her rented car, an Audi A-4, sits in the driveway. She hasn't used it much, trips to the supermarket and post office, one dinner meeting with Vice Consul Weis and a whirlwind tour of four art galleries on a rainy Saturday afternoon. She would have liked to have spent more time with Peter Wisdom. More social time, but she knows he's married, and apparently happily so, and she is not like Heidi. Definitely not like Heidi. Most of her days are spent sitting right there with a view of the ocean and a book in her lap. She knows it's time to go back to her life in Geneva. There is nothing more here for her other than pain, and so it's time to end it all.
She moves to the small desk near the front door and lifts a large manila envelope. Inside sits a folded map of the area with two circled addresses. There is also a sheet of paper with three names complete with addresses and phone numbers. The names are Stern, Welbrook, and Posner. She ignores Stern's Manhattan address and concentrates on the other two. She smiles as she remembers Wisdom's attempt to camouflage the identities by speaking of “the doctor” or the “local guy.” She's had all the details for over a month courtesy of Herr Weis of the consulate. All he needed to do was call in a State Department favor, but that's what his job is 50 percent of the time, isn't it?
She stares at the three names in front of her. Why did Wisdom only speak of the doctor and one other man? The man Wisdom called a “local.” The doctor was Stern. That was clear. The other two men, Welbrook and Posner, live close to each other according to the map and addresses. One of them must have been discarded as a suspect, but which? And why?
The why isn't really important. All she needs is the name of the local man, either Welbrook or Posner. She can't approach both and leafs through a small book of local numbers she keeps until she finds Bennett's number and takes a chance. The connection is quick.
“Can you help me? I'm supposed to meet Detective Wisdom, but I'm not sure if it's at Welbrook or Posner's house.”
“That's odd,” says Bennett, knowing the disguise plan might have been delayed, but thinking that they would arrive together if it was still on.
He quickly answers, “At Posner's. Do you have the address?”
“Yes. Thank you. It's very close.”
One last look in the mirror and she's ready. In minutes she's driving down the highway and senses the freedom of knowing she'll soon have the truth. The earlier tension she felt has evaporated. She's prepared to risk that Bennett might call Wisdom and relate their conversation.
Still, this is not a worry. She's not frightened. This is all too important. The road ahead is vacant, so she pushes the Audi to seventy. She flies along past clustered sentinels of black sand pines. It is as if the car knows the same urgency.
“Gut,”
she murmurs. In minutes she'll be there.
Stern decides to drive the Chevrolet he finds in the garage instead of the rented Ford. It's only to the corner, but a car should be available if he needs to make a quick exit. On top of that, he feels that there may be a need to remain less obvious since he assumes a description of his rented car is known by now. He slips on his jacket, comforted by the slight pressure from the nodular shape of the two toxic syringes that press against his torso. He has no more with him. The rest were back in the apartment in the city. So be it. These will have to do.
A final look through the window confirms that Posner's car still rests at the top of his driveway. This last look is fortunate. Just as he is about to leave, he sees a police cruiser swing around the corner and stop just in front of the house where he's hiding. He ducks his head away out of instinct. There is no way the police can see him from where their car sits.