could again see how this woman could run a successful multimillion-dollar high tech company. That was in her eyes, which had not dulled or softened. “Mister Jones, these computer people, they’re like children. I lost one of my charges today. I’m not anxious to lose another. Now let’s get upstairs before the police arrive and make sure I haven’t lied to them. My business influence won’t stall them for very long.”
But before they moved further, a short parade emerged from the door. Cindy led the way, followed by Bea who seemed to be supporting Dean by one arm. Even in the darkness his face appeared glazed over. They were followed by an older man wearing a thick gray beard and thicker glasses. Cindy pointed Bea and Dean into the back of a gray BMW in the driveway, and waved the older man forward.
“Hi honey,” Cindy said, barely mustering a smile. “You were gone so long I got worried, so I did what I thought made sense. This is Doctor Quincy Roberts. He was Dean’s therapist years ago. He was kind enough to rush down here and once he got a look at his former patient he agreed to have Dean hospitalized.”
“I believe he’s a suicide risk,” Doctor Roberts said in a smooth voice. “I’ve given him a mild sedative, and now I’ll drive him and his fiancee up to Charter Behavioral in Rockville, where I’ve arranged to have him admitted. If nothing else it will keep the police from grilling him for a while. Maybe they can find their killer in the meantime. Believe me, Dean is in no way capable of killing anyone after what he’s been through.”
“What he’s been through,” Hannibal repeated. “Yes, I’ve heard. Can we get together tomorrow, Doctor? I’d like to learn more about what he’s been through, and what he saw ten years ago.”
11
Tuesday
Hannibal started his day with a phone call to Janet Ingersoll. By the time he placed that call he was in his office, in his black suit and white shirt, on the clock as he would put it. He figured she would be in her office a few minutes before nine o’clock and he hoped to catch her before the day overwhelmed her. She sounded only a little harried when she answered.
“Janet this is Hannibal. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “I called him last night. We talked for a while. I think he really listened to me, at least at first. Then the anger took over and I…” Hannibal let the silence hang, refusing to let her off the hook. Eventually she added, “I hung up on him.”
“Good for you,” he said. It was a powerful indication that she was breaking from his dominance. They would heal their relationship or they would not, but now she was empowered to choose without being bullied in either direction.
“Thank you,” Janet said. “I don’t know how I could repay you.” For his help or the encouragement, he could not be sure.
“Actually, I’m calling to ask for your help. I could use your expertise on a case I’m on, trying to find someone. Can you track a man down with a partial license plate?”
Hannibal could feel her smile across the phone lines. She loved the idea that she could be needed by someone. “I can sure as heck narrow your search, depending on how much of the plate you got.”
“All I have is the first three characters,” he said.
“That’s not a bad start. Local registration?”
“I guess,” Hannibal said. “It starts with 902.”
“Hmmm…not Virginia. All ours start with three letters, except vanity plates of course. You don’t know what state?”
Hannibal cursed away from the phone. “Guess I don’t. So we’re nowhere, huh?”
“I didn’t say that,” Janet said. He could hear she was already being distracted by something at work. “I can help you better when I’ve got more time at a PC. Can this wait until I can come over after work?”
“Sure, no big rush,” Hannibal lied. “If you can help me find the driver of this car somehow, that will be great! I’ve got plenty to do today anyway, starting with taxi duty for a lady lucky enough to be able to take off from work whenever she feels like it.”
Hannibal regretted his condescending thought about Bea Collins as soon as he pulled up in front of her home. She was dressed as if for work in a tasteful business skirt suit and black heels. She had applied her makeup with care. Her raven tresses caressed her shoulders in gentle waves. Yet her petite form seemed shrunken in on itself. Her shoulders threatened to buckle under some invisible weight. She was perfectly framed by the backdrop of the day’s low, dark clouds.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Bea said as she settled into the car. “I have to be there for him, but I couldn’t have gone alone.”
“I’m here to do whatever I can to help,” Hannibal said, pulling out of the protected confines of the townhouse community. “I need to talk to Dean anyway. Find out what I can about his background. I’m afraid the police will try to make something of his history. A ‘like mother like son’ thing.”
“Dean was in and out of full awareness last night, but he talked some,” Bea said. “I found out he was raised by his Aunt Ursula after his mother, well, after they took her away. He asked me to call her, to tell her where he is. So I’ll get to meet one member of his family at least.”
Hannibal chased the last of the rush hour traffic around the Capitol Beltway, then branched north into Maryland and soon pulled into the visitors’ parking area of the Charter Behavioral Health System Facility at Potomac Ridge, a suburb of Rockville, Maryland, which was itself a suburb of Washington DC. Bea stared hard at the front of the open, glass fronted building before she would approach it with him. To her, it must have seemed more a prison than a place of comfort.
“It’s so big,” Bea said as they entered the sterile environment of the reception area. “My baby will just get lost in here.”
Hannibal could empathize. Too much white, too many smiles. And he knew most people still retained the snake pit image of mental hospitals. He took her hand as they approached the counter. “Relax, Bea. There are no amateurs here. Charter is the McDonald’s of mental health. There must be a hundred of these places scattered around the country. This one has eighty-eight beds for adult inpatients, and almost as many more for adolescent patients. They have the benefit of a ton of experience.”
Doctor Roberts intercepted them before they reached the receptionist, “You’re quite an expert, Mister Jones. Have you been here before?” Roberts walked as smoothly as he spoke. In full light Hannibal could see that he was a round man, soft looking like a stuffed animal. There was a twinkle in his eye which, combined with his beard, reminded Hannibal of the line about the “jolly old elf” in “The Night Before Christmas.” All that was missing was the smile.
“I visited someone else here not long ago,” Hannibal said. “At that time I spoke to her doctor in a little waiting area right over here.”
For Hannibal, it was a heavy dose of deja vu. Just like the last time he visited Charter, the room was empty and painfully quiet, with a smell of vanilla he figured someone sprayed on some regular schedule. Bea perched on the edge of one of the green plastic covered sofas. Hannibal sat beside her and Doctor Roberts pulled a chair close to them.
“How is Dean?” Bea asked as soon as they were settled. “Is he all right? Can I see him?”
“Of course,” Roberts said. “He is feeling better, although he’s a bit confused about things, the sort of confusion that so often goes with depression and anxiety. But I don’t think he’s in great danger.”
Hannibal tried to match Roberts’ carefully measured smile, but he could not imitate the doctor’s melodic, hypnotic voice. “Doctor, I need to talk to Dean for a couple of minutes about what he saw last night. The details could be very important.”
“I’m sorry. You can speak to him if you like, but you must not discuss the events of last night. At least for a couple of days, all right?”
The air conditioner sighed and Hannibal felt its cold breath on the back of his neck. “I don’t know if you understand, Doctor. Ms. Collins has asked me to protect Mister Edwards. To do that, I need to know exactly what
