Briefly, Addison hung his head. He was going bald,

but there were only a few strands of gray in his wellkept beard. “She was terrific in every way,” he said,

looking up. “On top of it, we managed to raise three

children who are now off and on their own. We have

two grandchildren, charming little twins. Joan was so

fond of them. We’d visit when Le Repertoire

wasn’t . . .” He stopped abruptly and bit his full lower

lip. “Sorry. I’m not here to talk about that.”

“That’s okay,” Judith said with sympathy. “Go

ahead, tell us whatever you want to.”

66

Mary Daheim

“No, no,” Addison replied, now very businesslike. “I

have just a couple of questions.” Again, he paused, this

time to clear his throat. “This morning, before Bob

Randall died, did either of you see or hear anything unusual?”

Judith and Renie exchanged quick glances. “No,”

Judith finally said. “I don’t recall anything.”

“You’re sure?” Addison Kirby looked disappointed.

Renie’s expression was uncharacteristically diffident. “I did hear Randall talking on the phone this

morning while I was in there.” She gestured at the

darkly stained wooden door to the bathroom. “He was

talking about somebody named Taylor, or to somebody

named Taylor. I couldn’t catch much of it, though.”

Addison looked puzzled. “The only Taylor I know

was Joan’s eye doctor. But it’s a common name. That’s

all you heard?”

“I’m afraid so,” Judith responded with an apologetic

expression. “Why do you ask?”

Kirby shook his head. “I’m paranoid,” he said. “Obsessed. Nuts.”

“Who isn’t?” Renie offered.

Standing up, Kirby replaced the visitor’s chair and

jammed his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.

“I had an appointment this morning to meet with Dr.

Garnett, the chief of surgery. I’ve got a lot of unanswered questions about Joan’s death. Garnett had been

stalling me, figuring, I suppose, that anything he said

would be on page one of the Times’s next edition. But

he finally gave in, and we’d just gotten started when he

was summoned to this floor. I could tell it was urgent,

so I followed him, and learned that Bob Randall had

died. I didn’t really know Bob, but I’ve seen him

around town over the years. Anyway, it seemed

SUTURE SELF

67

damned peculiar, with Joan dying so suddenly and

Joaquin Somosa, the same way.”

“It’s incredible,” Judith declared.

“You bet it is,” Addison asserted, the hazel eyes

sparking. “I was already suspicious, that’s why I

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