prosecution witness in murder trials. Riker was an experienced, no-nonsense doctor whose philosophy she shared. He believed that, while life does deal some pretty tough blows, a person just has to lick his wounds and then get on with it. Most important, he had a way of defusing the obfuscating psychiatric jargon spouted by the shrinks the defense attorneys lined up.
She especially loved him when, asked if he considered a defendant insane, he answered, “I think he’s nuts, but not insane. He knew exactly what he was doing when he went into his aunt’s home and killed her. He’d read the will.”
“Dr. Riker is with a patient,” Kerry’s secretary reported.
“He’ll call you back at ten of eleven.”
And true to his word, at exactly ten of eleven Janet called in that Dr. Riker was on the phone. “What’s up, Kerry?”
She told him about Dr. Smith giving other women his daughter’s face. “He denied in so many words that he did any work on Suzanne,” she explained, “which could be true. He may have referred her to a colleague. But is making other women look like Suzanne a form of grieving?”
“It’s a pretty sick form of grieving,” Riker told her. “You say he hadn’t seen her from the time she was a baby?”
“That’s right.”
“And then she appeared in his office?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of guy is this Smith?”
“Rather formidable.”
“A loner?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Kerry, I need to know more and I’d certainly like to know whether or not he operated on his daughter, asked a colleague to do the job, or if she had the surgery before she went to him.”
“I hadn’t thought about the last possibility.”
“But if, and I stress the word, if, he met Suzanne after all those years, saw a plain or even a palpably homely young woman, operated on her, created a beauty and then was enchanted by what he’d done, I think we’ve got to look for erotomania.”
“What is that?” Kerry asked.
“It covers a lot of territory. But if a doctor who is a loner meets his daughter after all those years, transforms her into a beauty and then has the sense of having done something magnificent, we could argue that it falls into that category. He’s possessive of her, even in love with her. It’s a delusional disorder that often applies to stalkers, for example.”
Kerry thought of Deidre Reardon telling her how Dr. Smith treated Suzanne as an object. She told Dr. Riker about Smith patting away a smudge on Suzanne’s cheek and then lecturing her on preserving beauty. She also told him of Kate Carpenter’s conversation with Barbara Tompkins, and of the latter’s fear that Smith was stalking her.
There was a pause. “Kerry, I’ve got my next patient coming in.
Keep me posted, won’t you? This is a case I’d love to follow.”
65
Kerry had intended to leave the office early so she could be at Dr. Smith’s office just after his last appointment. She had changed her mind, however, realizing that it would be better to wait until she had a better perspective on Dr. Smith’s relationship with his daughter. She also wanted to be home with Robin.
Mrs. Reardon believed that Smith’s attitude toward Suzanne was “unhealthy,” she thought.
And Frank Green had remarked on how Smith had been totally unemotional on the stand.
Skip Reardon had said his father-in-law wasn’t around their house much, that when Suzanne saw him, they usually met alone.
I need to talk to someone who knew these people and who has no axe to grind, Kerry thought. I’d also like to talk to Mrs. Reardon again, more calmly. But what can I say to her? That a mobster who happens to be on trial right now was known to call Suzanne Sweetheart when he played golf with her? That a golf caddie sensed that there might be something going on between them?
Those disclosures might only nail Skip Reardon’s coffin a little more tightly shut, she reasoned. As a prosecutor I could argue that even if Skip wanted a divorce so he could get back together with Beth, it would have infuriated him if he had learned that Suzanne was running around with a multimillionaire while charging three- thousand-dollar Saint Laurent suits to him.
She was just leaving the office at five o’clock when Bob phoned. She caught the tension in his voice. “Kerry, I need to stop by for a few minutes. Will you be home in an hour or so?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll see you then,” he said, and hung up.
What was bringing Bob to the house? she wondered. Concern about the picture of Robin she’d received? Or had he had an unexpectedly tough day in court? That was certainly possible, she told herself, remembering how Frank Green had commented that even without Haskell’s testimony the government would be able to convict Jimmy Weeks. She reached for her coat and slung her shoulder bag over her arm, remembering wryly how for the year and a half of her marriage, she had joyfully rushed home from work to spend the evening with Bob Kinellen.
When she arrived home, Robin looked at her accusingly. “Mom, why did Alison pick me up at school and drive me home? She wouldn’t give me a reason, and I felt like a jerk.”
Kerry looked at the sitter. “I won’t hold you up, Alison.
Thanks.”
When they were alone, she looked into Robin’s indignant face.
“That car that frightened you the other day…,” she began.
When she was finished, Robin sat very still. “It’s kind of scary, isn’t it, Mom?”
“Yes, it is.”
“That’s why when you came home last night you looked all tired and beat up?”
“I hadn’t realized I looked quite that bad, but yes, I was pretty heartsick.”
“And that’s why Geoff came running up?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I wish you’d told me last night.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you, Rob. I was too uptight myself.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Take a lot of precautions that may be a nuisance until we find out who was across the street last Tuesday and why he was there.”
“Do you think if he comes back, he’ll run me over next time?”
Kerry wanted to shout, “No, I don’t.” Instead she moved over to the couch where Robin was sitting and put an arm around her.
Robin dropped her head on her mother’s shoulder. “In other words, if the car comes at me again, duck.”
“That’s why the car isn’t going to get the chance, Rob.”
“Does Daddy know about this?”
“I called him last night. He’s coming up in a little while.”
Robin sat upright. “Because he’s worried about me?”
She’s pleased, Kerry thought, as though Bob has done her a favor.
“Of course, he’s worried about you.”
“Cool. Mom, can I tell Cassie about this?”
“No, not now. You’ve got to promise, Robin. Until we know who’s pulling this-“
“And have cuffed him,” Robin interjected.
