When morning came she lay in her bed staring at the ceiling where a little gray spider had woven a web so fine it was all but invisible save where it caught in strands of sunlight. She lay with her arms at her sides and the blankets up to her chin, her hair no longer in a plait but splayed across the pillow. From the front door she could hear the sound of the bell ringing. She could hear the weight of boots on the wooden step and then the bell again followed by the sound of somebody knocking.
She did not move. She did not get up. Next to her on the nightstand were the photos she had dug out last night. She lay with her head to the side staring at those photos until the knocking ceased. She lay until the sound of footfall left the step. She lay until the sound came a second time, only at the back of the house where he knocked all over again. As if he did not believe the house was empty, he knocked again and again.
Sitting up finally, she threw off the bedclothes and crossed to the hall. No nightdress, no robe, she hovered for a moment and she could see his shadow, the shape of his hat through the frosted glass. He knocked again and she was reaching for a robe when she saw him walk away. Throwing the robe around her shoulders she made for the door then paused and crossed to the living-room window. She saw him walk to his car. She went to the front door but again she hesitated. She heard an engine fire and she fumbled with the dead bolt and safety chain. She had the door open finally and was out on the stoop in the cool of the morning but he was already driving away.
Inside the house she rested with her back to the door and the flat of her hands at the base of her spine. Eyes closed, she rocked back and forth. In the kitchen she switched on the coffee pot and squatted on a stool. Reaching for the telephone her hand shook a little as she dialled.
A woman’s voice answered. ‘Bellevue Sanatorium, can I help you?’
‘I need to speak to Dr Beale.’
‘I’ll see if he’s available. Who’s calling please?’
‘Clara – I mean Carla. Carla Simpson. Tell him it’s very important.’
‘All right,’ the operator said. ‘I’ll see if I can connect you.’ The line clicked then seemed to die for a moment before Beale’s voice sounded.
‘Carla, what is it? Has something happened?’
‘I had to speak to you. That policeman was just here – the one I told you about, the Texas Ranger.’
‘Did you talk to him?’
‘No, I didn’t. He showed up just now and I was still in bed and I didn’t answer the door. I don’t know why I did that. I should’ve spoken to him but yesterday you told me you were dealing with it and—’
‘I am dealing with it,’ Beale cut in. ‘You did the right thing. There’s no need for you to talk to anyone. There’s no need for you to be involved. If you get involved now it will all come out, everything that happened; everything that went on back then.’ He broke off for a moment then he said, ‘You don’t need that. You don’t want that. It’ll do nobody any good. Now, listen to me. It’s as I said: there is nothing to worry about. Nobody is going ask you any questions. Just go on with your life, OK?’
Hanging up the phone, Beale peered across the desk to where Nancy was looking on with her shoulders hunched and her arms folded across her chest.
‘Nothing to worry about? Are you kidding me?’
Beale held her gaze. ‘Nancy, what I said to her applies to you too. There’s no need to speak to anyone and there is no need for panic. I can handle this and I will.’
‘So you’ll go to the police? You’ll tell them what happened at Trinity, how this all got out of hand?’
‘Didn’t you hear me just now?’ Beale said. ‘The last thing we need is the police.’ He let go a shortened breath. ‘He won’t let them take him. They’ll kill him, Nancy, and he doesn’t deserve that. We don’t deserve it. Now, I said I’ll deal with this and I will.’
‘Are you sure? Are you sure you can? Are you sure it’s not too late?’ She stepped a few paces closer to the desk. ‘If you want my opinion I think you’ve let your ego get in the way. I think …’
She broke off as color flushed through Beale’s cheeks. On his feet he paced around the desk.
‘I don’t want your opinion,’ he said. ‘I don’t need your opinion, and as for my ego – this is about science not ego. When all’s said and done the only thing I did was have him brought to Trinity.’
‘That may be, but he didn’t belong there, did he? He’d committed no crime and he did not belong in a place like that. I swear to God, if I had my time again I would never have agreed.’
‘You would never have agreed?’ Beale’s tone was suddenly derisory. ‘It wasn’t up to you. You’re not in charge. I could’ve used any of the nurses I wanted.’
‘But you didn’t.’ Nancy fixed her gaze on his. ‘You used me because I knew her better than anyone else and you asked Charlie because he could handle both of them if it came to it. Shock treatment – well it shocked all right, only not in the way you thought.’ The fear in her eyes was tangible. ‘Doctor, no matter what you told her just now, you need to go to the police. Mary-Beth is dead and so is Ike. We both know why and we both know how this ends.’
She was trembling, a shudder in her shoulders, her hands knotted. ‘Anyway, there’s something else, something you need to know. It’s why I came up here. Charlie Briers didn’t show up for work this morning.’
Beale stared at her and his gaze was as troubled as hers now. Nancy glanced above his head at the clock on the wall.
‘His shift started at seven and it’s almost nine thirty. He’s never late and he’s never had a day off sick.’
Beale was open-mouthed. ‘Have you called his house?’
‘Of course I have. I did that as soon as I knew he wasn’t here. I got no answer on the phone so I thought he might be on his way, but when I checked his car was still in the parking lot and it was there when I left last night.’