' she died when I was five; I told you that. So my memories are rather dim. I have some old snaps of her in the attic. I'll dig them out one of these days. A lovely woman; you'll see.'
'What did she die of, Edward?'
'In childbirth. So did the baby. My brother.'
'Was he baptized?'
'Of course. Terence. Terry.'
'What was your father's first name?'
'Marion-believe it or not. He never remarried. So you and I are both only children.'
'But we have each other.'
'Thank God for that.'
'Edward, why don't you go to church anymore?'
'Monica, why don't you go to the synagogue anymore?'
They both smiled.
'A fine couple of heathens we are,' he said.
'Not so,' she said.
'I believe in God-don't you?' -of course,' he said. 'Sometimes I think He'd like to be Deputy Commissioner Thorsen.'
'You nut,' she said, laughing.
'Want to watch the news on TV' 'No, thanks. I think I'll spend a nice relaxed evening for a change. I need a -- The phone rang.
He got heavily to his feet.
'There goes my nice relaxed evening,' he said.
'Bet on it. I'll take it in the study.'
It was Dr. Diane Ellerbee.
'Mr. Delaney,' she said, 'I want to apologize for the way I spoke to you this morning. I realize you're volunteering your time, and I'm afraid I was rather hard on you.'
'Not at all. I know how concerned you are. Sometimes it's tough to be patient in a situation like this.'
'I'm driving up to Brewster tonight,' she said.
'To spend the weekend. There's something I'd like to tell you that may or may not help your investigation. Would it be possible for me to stop by your home for a few minutes?'
'Of course. We've finished dinner, so come whenever you like.'
'Thank you,' she said.
'I'll be there shortly.'
He went back into the living room and reported the conversation to Monica.
'Oh, lord,' she said.
'We've got to get the kitchen cleaned up. Are there fresh towels in the hall bathroom? Do I have time to change?'
'To what?' he said.
'You look fine just the way you are.
And yes, there are fresh towels in the bathroom. Take it easy, babe; this isn't a visit from the Queen of England.'
But by the time Dr. Diane arrived, the kitchen was cleaned up, the living room straightened, and they were sitting stiffly, determined not to be awed by the visitor-and not quite succeeding.
Diane Ellerbee was graciousness personified. She complimented them on their charming home, unerringly selected the finest piece in the living room to admire-a small Duncan Phyfe desk-and assured Delaney that the vodka gimlet he mixed for her was the best she had ever tasted.
In fact, she played the grande dame so broadly that he made a cop's instant judgment: The woman was nervous and wanted something. Having concluded that, he relaxed and watched her with a faint smile as she chatted with Monica.
She was wearing a sweater and skirt of mushroom-colored wool, with high boots of buttery leather. No jewelry, other than a plain wedding band, and very little.makeup. Her flaxen hair was down, and her classic features seemed softened, more vulnerable.
'Mr. Delaney,' she said, turning to him, 'was that list of patients I gave you any help?'
'A great deal. They are all being investigated.'
'I hope you didn't tell them I gave you their names?'
'Of course not. We merely said we're questioning all your husband's patients-which is true-and they accepted that.'
'I'm glad to hear it. I still don't feel right about picking out those six, but I wanted to help any way I could. Do you think one of them could have done it?'
'I think possibly they are all capable of murder. But then, a lot of so called normal people are, too.'
'I really don't know exactly how you go about investigating people,' she said with a confused little laugh.
'Question them, I suppose.'
'Oh, yes. And their families, friends, neighbors, employers, and so forth.
We go back to them several times, asking the same questions over and over, trying to spot discrepancies.'
'Sounds like a boring job.'
'No,' he said, 'it isn't.'
'Edward has the patience of a saint,' Monica said.
'And the luck of the devil,' he added.
'I hope.'
The doctor laughed politely.
'Does luck really have much to do with catching a criminal?'
'Sometimes,' he said, nodding.
'Usually it's a matter of knocking on enough doors. But sometimes chance and accident take a hand, and you get a break you didn't expect. The criminal can't control luck, can he?'
'But doesn't it work the other way, too? I mean, doesn't luck sometimes favor the criminal?'
'Occasionally,' he agreed.
'But it would be a very stupid criminal who depended on it.
'The best laid schemes… ' and so on and so on.' He turned to Monica.
'Who said that?' he asked her, smiling.
'Shakespeare?' she ventured.
'Robert Bums,' he said.
'Shakespeare didn't say everything – ' He turned to Diane Ellerbee.
'Now it's your chance. who wrote, 'Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive!'?'
'That was Shakespeare,' she said.
'Sir Walter Scott,' he said, still smiling.
'Did you say you had something to tell me, doctor?'
'Oh, you'll probably think it's silly,' she said, 'but it's been bothering me, so I thought I'd tell you anyway. The first time you and Sergeant Boone came to see me, you asked a lot of questions, and I answered them to the best of my ability.
After you left, I tried to remember everything I had said, to make sure I hadn't unintentionally led you astray.'
She paused.
'And?' he said.
'Well, it probably means nothing, but you asked if I had noticed any change in Simon over the last six months or year, and I said no. But then after thinking it over, I realized there had been a change.
Perhaps it was so gradual that I really wasn't aware of it.'
'But now you feel there was a change?' Delaney asked.
