so was her brain. A wondrous calm came over her as
she saw some of the people she loved most standing or
sitting around her bed. Then her gaze traveled from Joe
to Mike, and a surge of panic filled her. But she had
made her resolution to tell the truth. Not quite yet, but
later, maybe when she was home again.
“Jim Randall!” Woody exclaimed, his usual quiet
demeanor shattered. “You mean Bob’s brother?”
“His mirror twin,” Judith replied after drinking more
water. “They faced each other in the womb, they’re exactly opposite. Bob once saved Jim’s life, and I’m not
entirely sure Jim was grateful. Even as a child, he must
have sensed his physical inferiority. Then, when Jim
started to lose his sight—or maybe he never had full
vision—he brooded. Finally he got on a list for cornea
recipients. Even there, he knew that he probably
wasn’t high on the list, and in some twisted, deranged
way, decided to speed up the process. He found out—
probably from Margie, his sister-in-law—where he
stood on that list and which patients were organ donors
at Good Cheer. Obsessed with the concept of finally
being able to see clearly, he began to eliminate patients. Not just any patients, but successful ones, the
type of person he could never be. Yes, those victims
312
Mary Daheim
were all organ donors, though he didn’t necessarily expect to get their corneas.”
Judith paused to pick up the notes she’d taken down
from Sister Jacqueline. “On each of the dates that Somosa and Fremont died, Jim had scheduled medical
tests, right up to Tuesday when Bob Randall had his
surgery. Jim didn’t strike me as a healthy person,
though he may also have been a hypochondriac. I suspect he faked that faint to allay suspicion. Anyway, he
talked his doctors into a CAT scan, an ultrasound, and
an MRI. But he never took those tests, he had a homeless person do it for him. Renie told me after she had
her MRI for her shoulder that all she had to do when
she went to the place where they did the test was hand
them some information in a folder she’d gotten from
the reception desk.”
“Judith’s right,” Renie chimed in. “I thought it was
odd at the time, and even asked the people giving the
test how they knew it was really me. They said they
didn’t, I could be anybody as long as I was female and
of a certain age.”
“This deception not only gave Jim an alibi,” Judith
went on, “but allowed him to get the homeless men to
drop off the special treats for his victims. Jim couldn’t
risk doing it himself, and he certainly never could have
put the drugs into the IVs. He couldn’t see well enough.”
“Hold on,” Woody interrupted. “How could Jim
know what special drinks Joaquin Somosa and Joan
