Front Page Teaser

make a unique pendant. “I know people think Erik did something to drive Ellen away, but I’m sure he didn’t. That marriage was rock solid,” Olga told Liz, “so I’m celebrating it and Veronica’s birthday with that pendant.”

On June 18—the six-month anniversary of Ellen’s disappearance—Liz wrote a recap of the mystery for the Banner and included Olga’s heartwarming vote of confidence in her son-in-law to balance the many unanswered questions that led many to think ill of him. Nevertheless, Erik was uncomfortable with the article and dropped his contact with Liz after it ran. The anniversary article also drew criticism from Lucy Gray, who phoned Liz in a pique when it was published.

“I didn’t betray your trust . . . ” Liz began, in response to the librarian’s angry tone.

“You couldn’t have!” Lucy said. “I never gave you access to the information.”

“Well, not directly. But you did e-mail me the title of the list, if not the password.”

“What e-mail? What password?”

“You didn’t send all those e-mails with the word ‘Blister’?”

“No, I didn’t! I debated about letting you know but I just couldn’t.”

“Then, it must have been someone else. But who was it? I didn’t talk with anyone else at the library.”

Liz explained how Olga had retrieved the information. Could it have been the most unlikely person the two could imagine: Monica Phillips? In any case, Lucy seemed to relax knowing someone else had done the deed she had debated about perpetrating.

“So, you know about Ellen’s reading choices then?” Lucy asked.

“How to Disappear Completely and Never Be Found,” Liz said, naming the memorable title.

“Not that one! That’s a children’s book.”

“With a title like that?”

“Yes. You can tell by the call number indicating the juvenile category. She probably took it out to read to Veronica along with the other children’s title on the list. No, it was the title about child abuse that concerned me.”

“I don’t remember anything about that on the list.”

“The circulation list does not provide subtitles. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t see Silent Knights as significant.”

“Is it a book about child abuse? Did Ellen ever let on to you any fears that Erik might abuse Veronica?”

“Erik! No. The book Ellen was reading was more along the self-help lines. That book’s full title is, Silent Knights: Finding the Courage to Admit Aberrant Impulses. It addresses how to overcome the impulse to behave abusively. When I told you the reading list made me doubt how well I knew Ellen, this is what I was talking about. I have to wonder if Ellen herself had a problem.”

“That’s why you were reluctant to share the information.”

“That, and my profound belief in the right to readers’ privacy. Suppose Ellen was only trying to get further support on a problem she had thus far been able to control? If the reading list were known, she might be vilified despite doing a good job of maintaining self control.”

“You have a point there.”

“I have to wonder, Liz, if Ellen fled in order to prevent herself from hurting Veronica.”

It was an avenue no one had explored thus far, but why would a New York taxi driver be traveling that route with Ellen? Was it just a fluke that he had entered her life at that moment? Or was he some kind of stalker? There seemed no way to find out.

After Dick Manning outdid Liz by scooping a few early summer news items, Liz found herself back on the community news beat, for the most part. She was also asked to cover some home and garden items for vacationing columnists. While she sometimes ran into Cormac Kinnaird when covering breaking news, as her hard news assignments dropped off they did not cross paths. But she and Tom discovered a passion for picnicking, and when it was possible, she took Tom along on some of her garden-related assignments, where they spread out his Mexican blanket with the greatest of pleasure.

In August, another call was made from Ellen’s cell phone, this time to the World’s Nancy Knight. The reporter made much of her scoop, even though the message was another blank one. A psychiatrist consulted by Knight told the reporter, “It’s evident this model mother cannot entirely separate from her child.” While Newton police duly discovered the phone call had been placed somewhere where roaming charges did not apply, the new contact seemed destined to underline Ellen’s absence as voluntary, even if it was uncertain who had made the call.

Then in September 2001, everything changed. Everything.

On the second of the month, Liz returned to Gravesend Street to find in her mailbox the long-awaited letter from Nadia. Tearing it open, she stood in her tiny driveway, oblivious to the sounds of passing traffic and of Prudence meowing inside a window. Posted from Jerusalem, the letter read:

Dear Liz Higgins,

Forgive me for my delay in contacting you, which is made all the more dreadful by the fact, which I have just learned from your letters, that my dear friend Ellen is missing. I’m afraid my work keeps me world hopping, and my stays in each destination are too short to make the forwarding of letters practicable.

Ellen did share some confidences with me when we met in New York City. I swore I would hold them secret for all my life, and I find it difficult to reconcile this promise to her with the needs of this investigation into her whereabouts. This is, in part, because she may, as is suggested in the news clippings you sent me, have decided to leave her home by choice.

Still, I remember Ellen spoke highly of you. Thus am I willing to meet with you and discuss the matter further. Unfortunately, I depart again tomorrow morning for more travels. Would it be impossible for you to meet with me in Singapore? It is a long way to go to meet a woman who might disappoint you once you get there. I make no promises about how much I will confide, and even if I trust you wholly, the information I have to share is limited. Still, I must pass through Singapore three times during the next two months. The first time, I will be staying at the Fullerton hotel on the nights of 6–9 September. Please don’t send Erik in your place, or let him know we are communicating. I will explain why, if and when I see you.

Yours sincerely,

Nadia

Without much hope of receiving an answer, Liz phoned Nadia’s Jerusalem number again. It rang and rang and rang, with the strange double-ring pattern that is common outside the United States.

Certain the Banner would not pay for a speculative jaunt to Singapore, Liz went straight to the newsroom, looked up the Singapore Tourism Board on the Internet, and discovered there was a celebrated orchid garden in that city. If the Banner saw her as a garden writer, it might be to her advantage. Collaring the travel editor, Susan Damon, she pitched a story about the orchids and great ethnic shopping, while reminding Susan she had vacation time available to spend on the enterprise. Susan composed a letter to the tourism board, which Liz faxed immediately. A half-hour later, she followed up with a phone call.

“Certainly, we’d love to host you at the Fullerton hotel. It’s just been renovated and the management is looking for coverage,” the public relations manager said. “As long as it is midweek, we can make the arrangements.”

The airfare was another story. It cost the earth. But Liz decided to go for it. She smiled to think a garden- and travel-writing assignment might provide her ticket to the front page again. Even more important, it might help her keep her promise to Veronica.

Chapter 23