The Cradle Will Fall

this as a potential homicide. I know Scott has a hunch about Lewis. I can see why.' Katie thought, I do not believe Chris Lewis could have done this to Edna; I don't believe he killed his wife. She looked around. 'Are you sure there's nothing valuable missing?' Charley shrugged. 'Her wallet's in her pocketbook; eighteen dollars there. Credit cards. The usual. No sign of anything being disturbed, let alone ransacked.'

'All right.' Katie returned to Dr. Highley and Gertrude. 'Mrs. Fitzgerald, I think it would be best if we have you driven home.' Dr. Highley reached into his pocket. 'I brought these sedatives along in case you needed them. Here, take one now.'

'I'll get a glass of water,' Katie said. She went down the hall to the bathroom, then came back to Gertrude and sat beside her. 'Mrs. Fitzgerald, do you know whether Edna kept any valuables here-any jewelry, perhaps?'

'She had a ring and a pin she wore on special occasions. I wouldn't know where she kept them. Oh, wait a minute. Doctor, I remember that Edna said she showed you her ring and pin when you were here. Perhaps you can help Mrs. DeMaio.'

Katie looked into the cold gray eyes. He hates this, she thought. He's angry about being here. 'One time Edna did show me a pin and ring that were in a box in her night-table drawer.'

'Would you show me, Doctor?' Katie asked.

Together they walked down the hall into the bedroom.

'It was in there,' Dr. Highley told her, pointing to the night table on the right side of the bed. Using only the tips of her fingers, Katie opened the drawer. She knew that the fingerprint experts would be called in.

The drawer was deep. Reaching in, Katie pulled out a blue plastic jewelry case. She raised the lid to find a small butterfly-shaped brooch and a thin old diamond ring nestled against cotton velvet.

'That eliminates the robbery theory, I guess,' Katie said. She started to close the drawer, then stopped. 'Oh, Doctor, look.' Setting the jewelry box on the bed, she reached back into the drawer. 'My mother kept her mother's old black hat for sentimental reasons. Edna must have done the same thing.'

She was holding up an object for him to see. It was a scuffed brown moccasin, shaped for the left foot.

As Dr. Highley stared at the shoe, Katie said, 'This was probably her mother's and she considered it such a treasure she kept it with that pathetic jewelry. Oh, Doctor, if memorabilia could talk, we'd hear a lot of stories, wouldn't we?'

EDGAR HIGHLEY STARED AT KATIE DEMAIO as she stood there holding that shoe in her hand. Was she mocking him? No. She believed that the shoe had had some sentimental meaning for Edna. Suppose she showed it to the detectives? Or to Gertrude? She'd been at the desk many times when Vangie came in.

He had to have that shoe.

Katie put it back, closed the drawer and walked out of the bedroom, the jewelry box tucked under her arm. He followed her, desperate to hear what she would say. But she simply handed the jewelry box to the detective. 'The ring and pin are here, Charley,' she said. 'I guess that shoots any possibility of burglary.'

There was a rap at the door, and Katie opened it to admit two men carrying a stretcher. Edgar Highley said to Gertrude, 'I'll get you more water, Mrs. Fitzgerald.' The others were watching the attendants as they lifted the body. It was his chance. He had to risk taking the shoe.

He walked rapidly to the bathroom, turned on the tap, then slipped across the hall to the bedroom. Using his handkerchief to avoid fingerprints, he opened the night-table drawer. He was reaching for the shoe when he heard footsteps coming down the hall. Quickly he pushed the drawer shut, stuffed his handkerchief into his pocket, and was standing at the door of the bedroom when Richard Carroll appeared. 'Dr. Highley,' he said coldly, 'I'd like to ask you a few questions about Edna Burns.'

'Certainly.' Then, in what he hoped was a casual tone, Highley said, 'Excuse me. I'm letting the tap run. I want to get Mrs. Fitzgerald a glass of cold water. The poor woman's terribly distressed.'

Richard Carroll stood aside to let him pass. Highley filled the glass and took it to Gertrude. The attendants had left with the body, and Katie DeMaio was not in the room.

'Has Mrs. DeMaio left?' he asked the detective.

'She's talking to the super's wife. She'll be right back.'

He could not leave until he was sure that Katie did not talk about the shoe. When she came back a few minutes later, she did not mention it.

They left the apartment together. Deliberately he stayed with Katie as she walked to her car, but then Richard Carroll joined them. 'Let's get some coffee at the Golden Valley diner, Katie,' he said, and Highley watched them drive off.

On his way home, Edgar Highley decided there must be a personal relationship between Katie DeMaio and Richard Carroll. When Katie bled to death, Carroll would be both professionally and emotionally interested in the cause of death. He would have to be very careful.

He drove into his garage, then entered the house. The cold lamb chops were on the plate; the asparagus had wilted; the salad was limp and warm. He would reheat the food in the microwave oven, prepare a fresh salad.

As he set to work, he found himself becoming calm. He was so near to being safe. And soon it would be possible to share his genius with the world. He already had his success. He could prove it beyond doubt. He had accurate records, pictures, X rays, the step-by-step accounts of how he had dealt with all the problems that had arisen. All in the files in his secret safe.

When the proper time came, he would burn the files on the failures and claim the recognition that was due him. By then there would surely be more triumphs. He sat down at the table and slowly ate his dinner. As always, food restored his sense of wellbeing. Tomorrow the Newsmaker article would appear. It would enhance his social as well as his medical prestige.

'My patients are not allowed to drink or smoke during their pregnancies,' he had told the Newsmaker interviewer. 'They are required to follow a specific diet. I will not accept a patient who will not cooperate with my methods. I can show you dozens of women I have treated who have had a history of several miscarriages but now have children. Many more could experience that same joy, if they were willing to change their habits, particularly their eating and drinking habits.'

The Newsmaker reporter had been impressed. But her next question was a loaded one. 'Doctor, isn't it true that a large number of women have miscarried, even after following your schedule rigidly-and paying you ten thousand dollars?'

'It would be insane for me to claim that I bring every difficult pregnancy to term. Yes. There have been occasions where a desired pregnancy was spontaneously aborted. After several of these occurrences, I suggest that my patient adopt a child, and I help to arrange a suitable adoption.'

'For a fee.'

'Young woman, I assume you are being paid to interview me. Why don't you use your time for volunteer work?'

It had been foolish to antagonize her, foolish to give her any reason to want to discredit him or to delve into his background.

The interviewer's next question had been meant to entrap him.

'Doctor, you also perform abortions. Isn't it incongruous to try to save one fetus and to eliminate another?'

'I refer to the womb as a cradle. I despise abortion. But I also deplore the grief I witness when women come to me who cannot conceive because their wombs have been damaged during abortions. It is my wish that all women carry their babies to term. For those who do not want to, at least I can make sure that when they do want a child, they will still be able to have one.'

That point had been well received.

He finished eating, leaned back in the chair and poured himself more wine. He was feeling expansive. Tomorrow morning he had a cesarean section scheduled-another difficult case that would add to his reputation. The mother was from the socially prominent Payne family. The father, Delano Aldrich, was an officer of a prestigious foundation. This was the sort of family whose championship he needed.

Only one obstacle left. He had brought Katie DeMaio's file home from the office. He would begin now to prepare the substitute file that he would show to the police after her death.