“I didn’t think you could look any worse than you did when we had dinner on Tuesday, but you’ve reached a new low, girl. We’ll get you back in shape,” she said as she embraced me, preparing me for what I would see when I got up my nerve to look myself over.
She lived in a eight-room duplex in one of the most elegant buildings in Manhattan, and her guest bedroom, overlooking the East River, was plumped and fluffed for my arrival, like a soft aqua-toned cocoon, ready to shield me from the real world. I spent a few minutes checking myself out in the bathroom mirror, appalled by the number of lacerations and marks that crisscrossed my cheeks and neck, and the variety of bruises that had swollen and discolored my slender fingers and hands. I changed into Joan’s lingerie and velvet robe, and descended to the library, where she had poured a brandy for herself, David, and Mike.
“Anybody want to tell me what took you guys so long?” I asked, directing my question to Mike. I screwed up my face at the first swallow of the tea, which was sour and tasteless,
Joan came to sit beside me on the thick arm of my lounge chair, offering me a mouthful of her Courvoisier.
“Next time I call you, don’t tell me you can’t take the call,” Mike fired back at me.
“In the middle of a line-up? The first time you called, right after I got to the Special Victims Squad, nobody said it was urgent.”
“Well, it wasn’t then. I hadn’t spoken to David yet. After I started to get information from him, I called back twice.
Got some old hair bag who didn’t seem to know what was going on.
Finally, when we put most of it together, I called there frantically, telling them to find you and get you back upstairs to take the call. That’s when the desk sergeant told me you’d gotten into a car with a woman.“
“Start over,” I said.
“Tell me how you figured it out.”
David started to talk, describing his meeting with Jed.
“He showed up in my office a bit earlier than expected, at seven-fifteen, eager to tell me to tell anyone who would listen, I think what had been going on. I asked him to describe the details of the case of the woman who had been stalking him in California he said her name was Ellie Guttmann-‘ Mike interrupted him.
“Yeah, I had already gotten that from the Threat Management Unit during the afternoon, when they pulled up Segal’s case for me in Los Angeles.
I just had no way to connect it to Ellen Goldman then.“
“Jed insisted to me and I believe him, Alex that he never had any kind of relationship with Goldman or Guttmann, whichever is her real name.”
“It’s Guttmann,” Mike broke in again.
“I checked with Immigration. Israeli passport.”
Joan had joined in the hunt.
“After you guys called me from the hospital, I checked-her name in Nexis, on my computer. Just territorial on my part I couldn’t believe a writer had tried to kill you, Alex. There must be fifty Ellen Goldmans with published articles in the last year alone. My guess is that it was a pretty safe alias, close to her real name, if anybody was going to try to check out her press credentials and see if she had ever written anything before.”
David went back to his story.
“My secretary had pulled some of the recent publications on erotomania. I read them on the shuttle yesterday, and then Jed and I went over the information. He had never heard whether there was a diagnosis in Goldman’s case, but it’s true that Jed’s wife was the complaining witness. He had wiped his hands of the matter once the police locked her up, and he was moving East.”
“No diagnosis was made, according to the LAPD,” Mike reported.
“They had an easy conviction for aggravated harassment, based on the telephone records of her calls to Segal’s home and office, and the letters to his wife. Just a lock-up, no psych report.”
“Ellen Goldman is a classic case. I read Dietz, Zona, Sharma all the current experts on the subject.”
“What’s a ”classic“ erotomaniac?” I asked.
“To begin with,” he responded, ‘most of the subjects of the disorder are women, young women like Ellen Goldman in their early thirties. Their victims are male, usually older, and usually men of a higher status, socioeconomic class or even an unattainable public figure, like a celebrity or politician. Jed fit every one of those categories when she first encountered him in California.“
We were all listening attentively.
“It’s interesting, too, that almost half of the subjects studied were foreign-born.
Again, like Goldman. And a lot of them adopt different persona that they use for writing letters to their subjects, because they’re so smart and articulate in this instance, the Cordelia Jeffers correspondence.“
“How long before they give up this delusion?” Joan wanted to know.
“With other obsessions, so-called ”simple“ obsessions,” David told her, ‘the subjects only made contact for less than a year. With erotomaniacs, these episodes have gone on for ten or twelve years, with repeated efforts to keep in touch with the man. They make phone calls, write letters, stalk their subjects at home, in offices, on airplanes, in hotels you name it. They are convinced that’s the delusion that if they can get the obstacle, the other woman, out of the way, the man they’re obsessed with will be united with them and able to declare his love.“
“Wasn’t Jed aware of any of this, with Isabella? Didn’t it ever occur to him that Goldman was her killer?” I wanted to know.
“Absolutely not,” David said.
“When Goldman got out of jail, there was an order of protection still in effect by the court. She was not allowed to have contact with either of the Segals. And she was otherwise sane enough to avoid them at first, knowing that would land her back in jail.
“So she didn’t bother Jed when she first got to New York last month. At least, not directly not that he knew about.
There was enough publicity about his move to find his office at CommPlex, after the Senate race. But I’d have to guess that she spent more of her energy finding out about you, once she learned you were dating him. Was that fact ever in the newspapers?“
”Yeah, Liz Smith did an item in her column,“ Mike added, ”“SEX CRIMES CRUSADER DOES SENATE LOSER,” Something like that. That’s how she knew about you. We figure she found out about Isabella by intercepting some of Jed’s messages on his voice mail at CommPlex. He said she did that all the time when he was in California.“
“She had her eye on you, Alex,” David continued, ‘trying to figure how long you would last with him. Then along came the ultimate antagonist, in the form of a Hollywood goddess: Isabella Lascar. You were a mere mortal, but Isabella was serious competition.“
Ellen and I apparently had that much in common.
“But I thought Jed and Isabella had discussed their stalkers with each other?” I queried aloud, remembering that snippet of conversation with him.
“Yes, that’s true, in general,” David told us.
“But it had never occurred to either one of them that they were being harassed by the same person. Isabella was a celebrity and had been exposed to a lot of unwanted attention, as you know, Alex. When she started to get hang-up calls at the hotel she didn’t know what their source was, and the letters from Cordelia Jeffers were a complete mystery to her. She never divulged their exact contents to him and Jed thinks that’s because she knew how guilty he felt about betraying you.”
“When David called me tonight after he finished his meeting with Segal, he asked me to come over to his apartment to talk to him about the interview. I got there about nine, with Joe Duffy, one of the other guys who worked the squad with Mike.
“Up to that minute, I was still convinced Segal was the killer.
“But David said Segal could prove his alibi that his lawyer had the Cape Air ticket receipt that would show he was already on the plane off the Vineyard by the time Iz was blown to bits. Just that his lawyer is playing hardball ‘cause we haven’t released the exact time of her death yet.
He doesn’t want to show us the plane ticket till we tell him time of death.“
David was nodding his head in support of Mike’s information.
