On Tuesday morning Tony Garcia, filled with anticipation, was in the waiting room of Dr. Clayton Hadley’s office. When I called yesterday, he couldn’t have been nicer, Tony thought. I explained that I’d like to buy Ms. Morrow’s car and he asked if I realized it was ten years old. Then I offered to pay him the book value in cash and he said that would be fine.
“The doctor will be right with you, sir,” the receptionist said, with a friendly smile at the young man in a chauffeur’s uniform who was obviously uneasy sitting with a well-dressed couple who were also waiting to see the doctor.
“Thanks very much,” Tony said. I still can’t believe how lucky I am, he thought. Yesterday, when I asked the doctor if I could possibly get the car right away, even before the ownership transfer papers could be completed, I never thought he’d be so nice. I guess it was because I explained that we could have been killed in an accident when our old car stopped short in traffic. But he did say that it’s near the end of the month and there was no use wasting money from the estate paying the garage bill in Ms. Morrow’s apartment building.
“You can go in now, Mr. Garcia,” the receptionist told him. “The doctor will see you in the second room on the right.”
Tony jumped up. “Oh, thank you,” he said, as the receptionist assured the couple in the waiting room that the doctor would be with them in a few minutes.
With quick steps, Tony, following instructions, entered the private office of Dr. Clay Hadley. He’s pretty fat for a cardiologist, was Tony’s first thought, but it passed quickly from his mind. “Dr. Hadley, thanks so much. This means so much to me and my family. I can’t tell you how scared I was when all of a sudden my car stopped in traffic. But I won’t take your time. I brought the money in cash. My brother-in-law lent it to me. He’s a prince.”
After the phone call from Sophie Rutkowski the day before, Clay Hadley had been terrified. I panicked, he thought. I should have told her I was having the pillowcase laundered. Did she notice the bloodstain on the pillow itself? I can’t ask her that. It will only bring her attention to it.
Take the damn car, he thought, impatiently, as, forcing a smile, he watched Tony offer him six rubber-banded packs of ten one-hundred-dollar bills. “Six thousand dollars in all,” Tony said. “Doctor, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your letting me take the car right away. My wife Rosalie’s grandmother lives in New Jersey, and she looks forward so much to Rosie visiting her. Without a car it would be impossible.”
Clay Hadley raised his hand. “Tony, I have your phone number. I’ll give you a call when we can complete the paperwork. My secretary has called the garage. They’re expecting you to pick up the car this morning. They looked through it, but there was nothing personal in it. The insurance card and registration are in the glove compartment. Of course, once we officially transfer ownership to you and give you the title, you get your own registration and insurance. Here is a receipt for the payment now.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much.” Tony started for the door, got as far as the receptionist’s desk, then hesitated and turned around. I wonder if that bag Ms. Morrow asked me to put under the blanket in the trunk is still there? he thought. I shoved it pretty far back. The garage attendants may have missed it. Maybe I should tell the doctor about it?
The receptionist had seen him turn. “Mr. Garcia,” she said firmly, “I’m afraid that I can’t keep the doctor’s patients waiting any longer. I’m sure he’s on his way to the examining room now.”
Embarrassed, Tony murmured, “Of course. I’m sorry.” As he made his way through the reception area, he thought, if that file is there, I’ll just mail it back to Dr. Hadley.
I should have known better than to try to bother him with it now.