“Hey!” boomed Beth’s voice, quick andhurried answering on the first ring. “You beat me to it. I was going to callyou.”
“Oh?” Sounds of traffic at the other end, acar door slamming, probably a cab.
“To confess. I’m an idiot and I hatemyself.” Higher-voiced: “West Broadway and Broome, please.” Back to the phone: “Ifelt guilty the second I left you – in case there was something you noticed.”
“The couple fighting across the street?” Thewords tumbled out.
“Argh, yes, it’s been so bothering me. Iknew about that because Paul called me, upset because you were upset. He toldme what you saw, said it shook him more than he let on to you because he wantedyou to calm, not feel so fretful about everything. He said he didn’t know whereto turn.”
“He was worried? He should have told me.”
“That’s what I told him. Oh boy,wait a sec.” Beth’s voice rose trying to explain where she wanted to go to adriver who didn’t speak English. “No, West Broadway, notBroadway-Broadway. It’s on the corner of Broome Street. Broome Street,Broome Street!”
Back to the phone: “I gotta confess more. Paulcalled me a second time, like, two days ago, I think - I forget, can’t evenremember what today is.”
“Paul called you again?” Liddy’s lipsparted.
“Yes. Oh definitely two days ago, I was inthe middle of the Whitley open house. That second time…he started out funny, beatingaround the bush, saying how stressed he was that Carl was stressed they weren’tgoing fast enough. Again, he said he didn’t want to bring his worries to you, youhad enough to deal with - and again, I told him no, he should share.Isn’t that what marriage is supposed to be?”
“Yes.”
“He went on and on about Carl, and the factthat he was worried…God…”
“About what?”
“That you were focused too much onCarl, imagining bad things about him. And he asked me…oh Lids, I’ve beenwanting to tell you…”
“Tell me now.” Liddy’s voice shook.
“He asked if I’d report on your - feverchart, that’s what he called it...to please tell him if you were sayinganything about Carl that sounded…Jesus…”
“Paranoid?” The heart, racing…
“In so many words, yes. I got mad, told himit sounded like he wanted me to spy on you. I wanted to tell you but Icouldn’t, you’ve been upset enough.” A horn blared at Beth’s end; someoneshouted, then her voice dropped lower. “Frankly, I think there’s somethingwrong with those two dudes’ relationship. It seems like Carl puts Paul up tothings, dominates him…”
“No kidding.”
“…the feeling I got from that second callwas Paul feeling - like, frantic, pulled into some kind of web of Carl’s - whocome to think of it may have even told Paul to call me. Am I wrong? Something’sgoing on with them.”
“Paul’s been cleaning up Carl’s messes foryears.”
“Or covering up. You don’t think-”
“I don’t know. I’m so glad you told me.”
“Of course! I hope I haven’t upset you toomuch. Listen sweetie, I’ll be in in in tonight. If you have evena smidgen of a bad moment, call me, okay?”
“I will. Speak soon, Beth.”
Liddy hung up.
Last night, last awful night, the thoughthad come to her: Even if Paul suspected Carl of something, he’d still cover up…
Now what?
It was nine minutes after seven.
For a moment in the darkened room Liddyfaced the painting’s eyes, sharing their sorrow. Outside, thunder rumbled. She gotup and went for her slicker, put her phone in her handbag, but not hersketchbook. No, for once that stayed. She went down the hall and through theliving room, carefully setting the slide bolt and alarm system, closing thedoor behind her. Halfway down the stairs, she passed a delivery boy carrying upa pizza box. She hadn’t eaten; barely noticed it.
On Prince Street she got a taxi.
44
A white-coated assistant at the front counter smiled. She smiledtensely back as she walked the aisle past grad students still working at morecounters until she saw a Winnie the Pooh, a big one with a big tummy under hisred T-shirt, and asked the tired student about it.
“Carl gave it to me,” the student beamedwith the overhead fluorescents making her glasses look like headlights, and theheadlights reminded Liddy of her accident, the onrushing, frantic car blaringwildly. “Wasn’t that sweet of him?” the student beamed. “He said a little girlgave it to him.”
Liddy said yes, that was sweet, and continuedto Paul and Carl’s long counter at the end.
Carl looked up from poking a white mouse.His face turned fake jovial. “Hey, surprise! Back so soon?”
“Just stopping by.” Liddy kept her voiceeven; pointed shakily to the mouse to duck further exchange. “Is it alive?” Thelittle thing was on its back with its four legs stretched out in alldirections. Carl’s gloved hand held a scalpel.
“Yep, just paralyzed briefly,” he said,bending back with his scalpel. “Watch, I’ll cut-”
“Don’t!” Her tension showed, but she lethim think it was her usual dislike of what they did. “Is Paul around?” sheasked – just as he emerged from the office behind the counter, white-coated, carryinga clipboard in one gloved hand and a small cage holding one mouse in the other.
“Lids. Hey.” He acted surprised too, andset the cage down. The mouse bore red markings on its white fur, which meant thescratching little thing wasn’t long for this world. Liddy looked at it, thinkingdoomed, doomed, then looked back to Paul, who watched her expectantly.
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
“Now, Lids?” He didn’t hide his impatience.“This is a big moment, big big.” He pointed to Carl’s sedated mouse. “Whatwe just used will keep her out for five minutes, shorter and better thanPropofol. Look, Carl just made a cut and she didn’t even twitch! How ‘boutthat?” he grinned at Carl, who nodded jubilantly but didn’t look up from reachingfor sutures to stitch Mouse’s little incision.
“Three minutes ten seconds so far,” Carlsaid, checking his watch. “In less than two more minutes this critter’s goingto be back to crawling around, hurting and really pissed at me. Hey, she getsto live another day!”
“Congrats,” Liddy said dryly, seeing thatPaul’s eyes were now fixed
