A new nurse tended to Minna the next morning, an older lady with a hooked nose and tiny eyes. She wore the same light grey dress with the white apron and cap the other nurses wore, but her skirt hung a little longer and the soles of her shoes were a little thicker than theirs. She pulled a chair close to Minna’s bed, and I found her sitting in it, knitting something for a baby in a hideous shade of pink. She glared at me when I came into the room.
I expected her to say something snappish and demand I leave, but to my surprise, her face broke into an inviting grin, transforming her countenance into one that welcomed rather than repelled.
She peered at me. ‘You look as though you haven’t slept in weeks.’
‘I didn’t sleep well last night. It’s nothing. How is Minna?’
‘Resting. Would you like to sit with her for a few moments while I take a short break?’
‘Of course.’ I sat in the chair next to Minna’s bed.
Minna lay on her side, her chest rising and falling with each breath.
‘Sarah?’ she whispered.
‘I’m here,’ I said. ‘What happened?’
‘I poured myself a glass of water. I was thirsty, so I gulped it down before realizing it tasted foul. The last thing I remember is going into the bathroom to pour it out. I woke up in a strange room, with that stupid nurse forcing me to drink some horrid vomit-inducing concoction …’ Her voice trailed off. She stared at me. ‘Why do you look so horrible? Have you not been sleeping?’
I forced a smile. ‘You gave us quite a scare.’
‘Don’t change the subject. Why won’t you look me in the eye? Where’s Matthew? Why won’t anyone tell me where he is?’
I took the alleged suicide note out of my pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to her.
‘This is unbelievable.’ She started to tear up the letter, but I snatched it out of her hands just in time. ‘I would never try to kill myself. You have to believe me. I just wouldn’t. Someone else wrote this …’ She tried to sit up. ‘I must go to Matthew. He needs to be warned. Gregory will come for him.’
‘Why?’
My question took Minna aback.
‘You hinted that Gregory wants to harm Matthew, but you’ve never told me why.’
‘No.’ Minna shook her head. ‘That is not my story to tell. But where is he? Why won’t Matthew come to me?’
‘He’s in the hospital.’ I told Minna what had happened, sugar-coating the story so as not to upset her. I relayed the latest information that Mrs McDougal had shared. ‘He hit his head and may require surgery. Bethany is with him.’
‘Accident? Gregory’s come for us, just like I said he would. Maybe now people will take me seriously.’ She blew her nose. ‘I shouldn’t have come here. Matthew and Bethany have been so good to me.’
‘I think I know how he got in the house. I think I know who he is,’ I said.
Minna needed to know the truth. She deserved at least that much. I took the photographs out of my pocket and laid them out on the bed.
She picked up the picture of Matthew, Gregory, and her taken at the beach. She ran her finger over the image of her youthful self, as if touching it could connect her to the past in some small way.
‘Those were such happy times. At least I thought they were. But now that I look at this picture, I can see Gregory’s obsession.’ She turned the picture over on the bed.
‘Minna, does he remind you of anyone you’ve seen around here?’ I didn’t want to plant images in her mind.
She turned the picture back over and stared at it for a few seconds. ‘No. Should it?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’ I grabbed her hand. ‘But I’m going to find out.’
* * *
I made steady progress through Dr Geisler’s handwritten notes. By my quick calculation, I had approximately six more weeks of work, maybe eight if I stretched it. Assuming, of course, Bethany wanted me to keep on working. I threaded another piece of onion skin into my typewriting machine and tried to work, but I couldn’t focus on Dr Geisler’s handwriting and kept making stupid errors.
I sensed Mr Collins watching me in that silent way of his. I turned around in my chair and found him standing in my office doorway, his hand clenching the door as if he might need to slam it shut and flee. His hair stood straight up on his head, and his glasses, which were held together by some sort of adhesive tape, sat sideways on his face.
‘Hello, Mr Collins.’ I hid my irritation and forced myself to sound cheerful.
‘The white knight is going out to do battle with the aAngel of Death, Miss Sarah. You might want to bear witness.’
‘The white knight?’ Realization dawned. I jumped up from my desk, knocking my chair over in my hurry, pushed past Mr Collins, and ran to the front door. Chloe looked up at me as I stopped at her desk. ‘Get someone, Eunice, an orderly, just get someone to help. Please.’
‘What?’
‘Now!’ I slammed my hand down on her desk, making her jump.
I hurried out the front door, flew down the stairs, and skidded to a stop when I reached the sidewalk.
The air hung heavy. Not a leaf stirred. The sun beat down on the cement, which glowed white from yesterday’s cleansing rain. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two men in suits standing on opposite corners of the street. Zeke’s men? Neither one of them moved to assist. They just watched as Zeke and the Viking prepared to face off. Another man stood in the doorway of the house across the street. Why wouldn’t they do something to stop Zeke? Were they hoping for a fight? Did they want to watch for the sport of it?
I stood by, helpless, while Zeke walked towards the Viking. He didn’t limp now. His arm wasn’t bandaged. He carried his cane like a weapon, the silver handle gleaming in the sun. The Viking took his coat off and laid it across the hood of the blue car. He had a smirk on his face as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing thick forearms. I wondered how much food a man would have to eat to get that big.
Zeke waited, calm and still. The Viking had finished undressing just as Hendrik Shrader hoisted his giant bulk out of the back seat of the car. He grinned at the scene before him.
The Viking put his fists up and circled Zeke. Zeke faced him, turning in a slow circle as the Viking moved around him. Zeke didn’t raise his arms. He stood still, as though in the eye of a storm. When the Viking took a step, ready to throw his first punch, Zeke swung his cane in a circular motion so fast I couldn’t track it. He hit the Viking on the back of his knees and swept him right off his feet. The Viking hit the ground, landing on this back with a loud thud, followed by a whoosh as the air left his lungs. Zeke moved in and stood over him, pointing the cane at the Viking’s chest, as though it were a sword.
I moved closer.
‘Don’t even think about moving,’ Zeke said. The Viking tried to hoist himself up. Zeke stood over him, still as a tiger waiting to pounce, the tip of his cane hovering over the man’s heart. ‘I’ll kill you if you move.’
The Viking lay back down, gasping for breath.
Zeke turned his attention to Hendrik Shrader, who fumbled with the door of the car, a panic-stricken look on his face. He wrenched it open just as Zeke reached him. Zeke slammed the door shut and, in a fierce show of strength, grabbed Hendrik from behind, turned him around, and pushed him onto the trunk of the car, his elbow resting on his windpipe.
‘I can’t breathe,’ the man whispered.
‘I should break your neck,’ Zeke said.
‘You crossed the line when you stole from me.’
‘Stay away from Sarah.’
Hendrik Shrader croaked something I couldn’t hear.
Zeke pulled the fat man to his feet and let him go.
‘If you ever go near her again, if you ever so much as think about threatening her, I swear, I will hunt you down and kill you. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Papa?’ a childlike voice called out.
We all turned towards the porch where Minna stood, dressed in her pyjamas, her hair wild like Medusa’s. She held a pearl-handled revolver.
‘What are you doing now, you stupid girl?’
‘I’m going to kill you.’ Minna walked down the stairs that led to the sidewalk. She took slow, deliberate steps, like a bride walking down the aisle, as she pointed the gun at her father’s heart. ‘I should have done it a long time ago, but I didn’t have the courage.’
‘You’re not going to pull that trigger.’ Hendrik sounded confident, but he raised his hands. ‘I’m your father.’
Minna laughed, a crazed cackle that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. ‘You’re an evil sadist. You don’t deserve—’
‘Minna?’ She jumped at the sound of Zeke’s voice. Her brows furrowed, as though she were seeing him for the first time. ‘You don’t want to do this,’ he said. ‘They’ll lock you up and send you to prison, or an asylum.’ He moved towards Minna, taking slow steps.
‘I’m already in prison.’ She stepped around Zeke and spoke to her father. Tears ran down her face. ‘I’m in this position now because of you. You could have helped me. What kind of man forces his daughter to marry a man who beats her?’
She lifted her hand to wipe her tears. In one quick movement, Zeke wrested the gun from her, took the bullets out, tucked them in his back pocket, and handed the gun to me.
The revolver rested heavy in my hand.
Zeke wrapped his arms around Minna as she collapsed into a bout of sobbing. ‘Get out of here,’ he said to Mr Shrader. ‘I don’t want to see you again.’
Hendrik Shrader got back into his car without a backward glance. I stood there holding the gun while Minna leaned on Zeke and wept. The Viking stood up and jumped into the driver’s seat. The car sped away on squealing tyres.
Just as the car drove out of sight, Eunice and the two orderlies came out the front door. Eunice hurried over to Minna and put an arm around her waist to lead her away.
‘You poor thing. Come on. Let’s get you back into the house. We’ll give you a sedative and you can have a good rest.’
Minna let go of Zeke and allowed Eunice to lead her away like a docile child, the orderlies trailing behind. One of them hesitated before climbing the steps to the front door. He glanced back at us just as Zeke collapsed onto the sidewalk.
‘You are an idiot.’ I squatted down next to him. ‘What were you thinking?’
‘At least now we know,’ Zeke said.
‘Know what?’ I cradled his head in my lap.
‘Minna might be crazy, but she is not working with her father.’
‘I’ll be right back to get him,’ the orderly said to me before he hurried up the stairs.
‘The men who were watching the house are gone,’ I told Zeke.
‘They’ll arrest Shrader now.’ Zeke opened his eyes. ‘Can you help me stand up?’
‘No. Just wait.’
Soon the two orderlies came back. They hoisted Zeke to his feet. He put an arm around each of their necks and hobbled back into the house, with me trailing behind. As I stepped onto the front porch, I noticed the man on the porch across the street. He stood out from the men who had been assigned to watch the house. This man wore no hat or tie. He looked as though he had just rolled out of bed. He had a camera, which he now pointed at me as he snapped away. With a sense of dread, I hurried into the house, preparing for the inevitable media storm.