The Cradle Will Fall

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE Newsmaker article was on the stands Thursday morning. The phone calls, had begun as soon as Highley went to his office after delivering the Aldrich baby. The response was beyond his expectations. The Dartmouth Medical School phoned. Would he consider a guest lecture? A writer for Ladies' Home Journal wanted an interview. Would Dr. Highley appear on Eyewitness News?

Smiling, he signaled for his first patient to come in. She was an interesting case: her womb was so tipped that she'd never conceive without intervention. She would be his next Vangie.

The phone call came at noon, just as he was leaving for lunch. The nurse covering the reception desk was apologetic. 'It's long distance from a Dr. Emmet Salem in Minneapolis.'

Emmet Salem! He picked up the phone. 'Edgar Highley here.'

'Dr. Highley. From Christ Hospital in Devon?'

'Yes.' He felt a chill, sickening fear.

'Doctor, I learned last night that you treated my former patient Vangie Lewis. I'm leaving for New York immediately. In fact, I'm at the airport now. I am planning to consult with the medical examiner in New Jersey about Mrs. Lewis' death. I have her records with me. In fairness to you, I suggest we discuss her case first.'

'Doctor, I'm troubled by your tone and insinuations.'

'I'll be checking into room 3219 at the Essex House shortly before five. You can call me there.' The connection was broken.

Highley was waiting at the hotel when Emmet Salem emerged from the cab. Swiftly he took an elevator to the thirty-second floor, walked past room 3219 and around a corner. Another elevator stopped at the floor. He listened as a key clicked and a bellman said, 'Here we are, Doctor.' A minute later the bellman emerged from the room. 'Thank you, sir.' Highley waited until the corridors were silent. Quickly he opened his bag and took out the paperweight He slipped it into his coat pocket, put on his gloves, grasped the bag firmly in his left hand and knocked on the door.

Emmet Salem pulled the door open. He had just removed his suit coat.

'Dr. Salem!' Highley reached for Salem's hand, walking forward, backing the older man into the room, closing the door behind him. 'I'm Edgar Highley. It's good to see you again. You got off the phone so abruptly that I couldn't tell you I was coming into town for dinner. I have only a few minutes, but I'm sure we can clear up any questions.' He was still walking forward, forcing the other man to retreat. The window behind Salem was wide open. He'd probably had the bellman open it because the room was very hot. The sill was low. 'I tried to phone you, but your extension is out of order.'

'Impossible. I just spoke to the operator.' Salem stiffened.

'Then I do apologize. But I'm so anxious to go over the Lewis file with you. I have it right here.' He put his bag down and reached for the paperweight in his pocket, then cried, 'Doctor, behind you, watch out!'

The other man spun around. Highley crashed the paperweight on Salem's skull. Emmet Salem slumped against the windowsill. Jamming the paperweight back into his pocket, Edgar Highley cupped his palms around Salem's foot and shoved up and out.

'No. No. Please!' The half-conscious man slid out the window and landed on the roof of the extension some fifteen floors below. The body made a muffled thud.

From Salem's suit coat on the bed Highley pulled out a key ring. The smallest key fitted the attache case on the luggage rack. The Vangie Lewis file was on top. Grabbing it, he shoved it into his own bag, relocked Salem's bag, returned the keys to the suit-coat pocket. He placed the bloodstained paperweight in his bag, then glanced around. The room was in perfect order.

He opened the door and looked along the corridor. It was empty. As he stepped out, the phone in Salem's room began to ring. An elevator was just stopping. He got on, his eyes scanning the passengers. No one he knew.

At the lobby, he walked rapidly to the Fifty-eighth Street exit. Ten minutes later he reclaimed his car from a park-and-lock garage, tossed his bag into the trunk and drove away.

WHEN she left Scott's office, Katie called in Rita Castile, one of the investigators, and together they went over the material Katie would need for upcoming trials. 'That armed robbery on the twenty-eighth, where the defendant had his hair cut the morning after the crime. Well need the barber to testify. It's no wonder the witnesses couldn't make a positive identification. Even though we made him wear a wig in the lineup, he didn't look the same.'

Rita jotted down the barber's address.

'That's about all I have for you now,' Katie said, 'but I won't be coming in over the weekend, so next week will really be a mess. Be prepared.'

'You won't be coming in?' Rita raised her eyebrows. 'Well, it's about time. You haven't taken a full weekend in a couple of months. I hope you're planning to have some fun.'

Katie grinned. 'I don't know how much fun it will be. Oh, Rita, I have a hunch that Maureen is upset about something. Is it the breakup with her fiance?'

Rita shook her head. 'No, that was just kid stuff, and she knew it. The problem is, just about the time they broke up she realized she was pregnant and had an abortion. She's weighted down with guilt about it. She told me that she keeps dreaming about the baby, that she'd do anything to have had it, even though she would have given it out for adoption.'

Katie remembered how much she had hoped to conceive John's child. 'That does explain it. Thanks for telling me. I was afraid I'd said something to hurt her.'

After Rita left, Katie called Westlake Hospital. She wanted to talk again with the receptionist, Gertrude Fitzgerald. Then she would call Gana Krupshak.

The hospital told her that Mrs. Fitzgerald was home ill, and gave Katie her home phone number. When the woman answered, her voice was weak and shaking. 'I have one of my migraines,' she said, 'and no wonder. Every time I think of poor Edna…'

'I would like to ask you something,' Katie said. 'Did Edna ever call either of the doctors she worked for Prince Charming?' 'Prince Charming? Dr. Highley or Dr. Fukhito? Why would she call either of them Prince Charming? My heavens, no.'

'All right. It was just a thought.' Katie said good-by and dialed Mrs. Krupshak. The superintendent answered. His wife was out, he explained. She'd be back around five.

Katie glanced at the clock. It was four thirty. 'Do you think she'd mind if I stopped to talk to her for a few minutes?' 'Suit yourself,' the man answered shortly.

MRS. Krupshak was home when Katie rang her bell. 'Now, isn't that timing!' she exclaimed. For her, the shock of discovering Edna's body had worn off and she was enjoying the excitement.

'This is my bingo afternoon,' she explained. 'When I told my friends what happened they could hardly keep their cards straight.'

She ushered Katie into an L-shaped living room, and they both sat down on an imitation-leather couch.

'Mrs. Krupshak,' Katie said, 'I wonder if you would go over with me very carefully what happened Tuesday night: how long you were with Edna; what you talked about. When she spoke to Captain Lewis, did you get the impression that she made an appointment with him?'

Gana Krupshak leaned back. 'Now, let's see. I went over to Edna's right at eight o'clock, because Gus started to watch the basketball game and I thought I'd go have a beer with Edna. The thing is, Edna had made a pitcher of manhattans and they were about half gone and she was pretty rocky. She talked in a sort of rambly way about this patient who had died, how beautiful she'd been, how sick she'd been getting and how she-Edna, I mean-could tell the cops a lot about her.'

'Then what happened?' Katie asked.

'Well, I had a manhattan, or two, with her and then figured I'd better get home. But I hated to see Edna drink much more, so I got out that nice canned ham for her.' 'And that was when she made the call to Captain Lewis