on the coffee table.
Then, choosing her words carefully, Kerry said, “Whatever I said, or whatever the scene you just witnessed might have implied, Dad loves you very much, Robin. His worry is for you. I don’t admire the fixes he gets himself into, but I respect his feeling for you even when I get so angry I throw him out.”
“You got mad at him when he said he was worried about me.”
“Oh, come on, those were just words. He makes me so angry sometimes. Anyhow, I know that you’re not going to grow up to be the kind of person who lets herself drift into problems that are obvious to everyone else, then pleads situational ethics-meaning ‘this may be wrong but it’s necessary.’”
“That’s what Dad’s doing?”
“I think so.”
“Does he know who took my picture?”
“He suspects he knows. It has to do with a case Geoff Dorso has been working on and that he’s tried to get me to help him with. He’s trying to get a man out of prison that he’s convinced is innocent.”
“Are you helping him with it?”
“Actually, I’d pretty well decided that ‘by getting involved I was stirring up a hornet’s nest for no reason. Now I’m beginning to think I may have been wrong, that there are a couple of very good reasons to think that Geoff’s client indeed may have been unfairly convicted. But on the other hand, I’m certainly not going to put you in any danger to prove it. I promise you that.”
Robin stared ahead for a moment and then turned to her mother. “Mom, that doesn’t make sense. That’s totally unfair. You’re putting Dad down for something, and then you’re doing the same thing. Isn’t not helping Geoff if you think his client shouldn’t be in prison ‘situational ethics’?”
“Robin!”
“I mean it. Think about it. Now can we order the pizza? I’m hungry.”
Shocked, Kerry watched as her daughter stood up and reached for the bag with the video movies they were planning to watch. Robin examined the tides, chose one and put it in the VCR. Just before she turned it on, she said, “Mom, I really think that guy in the car the other day was just trying to scare me. I don’t think he really would have run me over. I don’t mind if you drop me off at school and Alison picks me up. What’s the dif?”
Kerry stared at her daughter for a moment, then shook her head. “The dif is that I’m proud of you and ashamed of myself.” She hugged Robin quickly, then released her and went into the kitchen.
A few minutes later, as she was getting out plates for the pizza, the phone rang and a hesitant voice said, “Ms. McGrath, I’m Barbara Tompkins. I apologize for bothering you, but Mrs. Carpenter, in Dr. Charles Smith’s office, suggested that I call you.”
As she listened, Kerry grabbed a pen and began jotting notes on the message pad. Dr. Smith was consulted by Barbara… He showed her a picture… Asked her if she wanted to look like this woman… Operated on her… Began counseling her… Helped her select an apartment… Sent her to a personal shopper… Now is calling her “Suzanne” and stalking her…
Finally Tompkins said, “Ms. McGrath, I’m so grateful to Dr. Smith. He’s turned my life around. I don’t want to report him to the police and ask for a restraining order. I don’t want to hurt him in any way. But I can’t let this go on.”
“Have you ever felt you were in physical danger from him?” Kerry asked.
There was a brief hesitation before Tompkins answered slowly, “No, not really. I mean he’s never tried to force himself on me physically. He’s actually been quite solicitous, treating me as though I were fragile somehow- like a china doll. But I also get a sense occasionally of terrible, restrained anger in him, and that it could easily be unleashed, maybe on me. For example, when he showed up to take me out to dinner last night, I could tell he wasn’t happy that I was ready to immediately get out of my apartment. And for a moment I thought he might lash out. It’s just that I didn’t want to be alone with him. And now I feel as if I outright refused to see him, he could get very, very angry. But as I told you, he’s been so good to me. And I know a restraining order could seriously damage his reputation.”
“Barbara, I’m going in to see Dr. Smith on Monday. He doesn’t know it, but I am. I think from what you tell me, and particularly from the fact that he calls you Suzanne, that he’s suffering from some sort of breakdown. I hope he might be persuaded to seek help. But I can’t advise you not to speak to the New York police if you’re frightened. In fact, I think you should.”
“Not yet. There’s a business trip I was going to make next month, but I can rearrange my schedule and take it next week. I’d like to talk to you again when I come back; then I’ll decide what I should do.”
When she hung up, Kerry sank into a kitchen chair, the notes of the conversation in front of her. The situation was getting much more complicated. Dr. Smith had been stalking Barbara Tompkins. Had he also been stalking his own daughter? If so, it was very likely that it was his Mercedes Dolly Bowles and little Michael had seen parked in front of the Reardon house the night of the murder.
She remembered the partial license numbers Bowles claimed to have seen. Had Joe Palumbo had a chance to check them against Smith’s car?
But if Dr. Smith had turned on Suzanne the way Barbara Tompkins feared he might turn on her, if he was the one responsible for her death, then why was Jimmy Weeks so afraid of being connected to Suzanne Reardon’s murder?
I need to know more about Smith’s relationship with Suzanne before I see him, before I know which questions to ask him, Kerry thought. That antique dealer, Jason Arnott-he might be the one to speak to. According to the notes she had found in the file, he had been just a friend but went into New York frequently with Suzanne to auctions and whatever. Perhaps Dr. Smith met them sometimes.
She placed a call to Arnott, leaving a message requesting him to call her back. Kerry then debated about making one more call.
It would be to Geoff, asking him to set up a second meeting at the prison with Skip Reardon.
Only this time she would want to have both his mother and his girlfriend, Beth Taylor, there as well.
68
Jason Arnott had planned to stay quietly at home on Friday night and prepare a simple dinner for himself. With that in mind he had sent his twice-weekly cleaning woman shopping, and she had returned with the filet of sole, watercress, pea pods and crisp French bread he had requested. But when Amanda Coble phoned at five o’clock to invite him to dinner at the Ridgewood Country Club with Richard and her, he had accepted gladly.
The Cobles were his kind of people-superrich but marvelously unpretentious; amusing; very, very smart. Richard was an international banker and Amanda an interior designer. Jason successfully handled his own portfolio and keenly enjoyed talking with Richard about futures and foreign markets. He knew that Richard respected his judgment and Amanda appreciated his expertise in antiques.
He decided they would be a welcome diversion after the disquieting time he had spent in New York yesterday with Vera Todd. And in addition, he had met a number of interesting people through the Cobles. In fact, their introduction had led to a most successful forage in Palm Springs three years ago.
He drove up to the front door of the club just as the Cobles surrendered their car to the parking valet. He was a moment behind them going through the front entrance, then waited as they greeted a distinguished-looking couple who were just leaving. He recognized the man immediately. Senator Jonathan Hoover. He’d been at a couple of political dinners where Hoover put in an appearance but they’d never met face to face.
The woman was in a wheelchair but still managed to look regal in a deep blue dinner suit with a skirt that came to the tips of high-laced shoes. He had heard that Mrs. Hoover was disabled, but had never seen her before. With an eye that instantly absorbed the smallest detail, he noted the position of her hands, clasped together, partially concealing the swollen joints of her fingers.
She must have been a knockout when she was young, and before all this happened, he thought as he studied the still-stunning features dominated by sapphire blue eyes.
Amanda Coble glanced up and saw him. “Jason, you’re here.” She waved him over and made the
