Chapter 7
The Crandell Memorial Hospital was small, exclusive, and with the undeniable smell of money about it. The girl at the desk in the reception room was blonde, efficient, and courteous.
"The Director? Dr. Spaulding? Yes, I believe he's in. Do you have an appointment?"
"No. I took a chance on being able to see him."
"Whom shall I say is calling?"
"Frank Lovell."
"What is the nature of your business, Mr. Lovell?"
"I want to inquire about a patient."
Deciding that his mission was worthy, she spoke into an intercom. "A Mr. Frank Lovell he wishes to see you to inquire about one of our patients."
She looked up. "Which patient did you wish to inquire about, Mr. Lovell?"
"A girl named Barbara Windsor."
The nurse relayed the information there was a long pause, and Lovell wondered if he'd fumbled. There was hardly any other way he could have handled it, though. So he waited, hoping for the best, and then the crisply uniformed blonde snapped the intercom and nodded.
"You may go in. The fourth door on the left."
Frank found Dr. Spencer to be a fat, little red-faced man who looked out of place in the luxurious office he occupied. But he was a pleasant enough man, and after they shook hands, Dr. Spencer said, "You were inquiring about a patient?"
"Yes. Barbara Windsor."
"I see. You are a relative, perhaps?"
"No. But I was well acquainted with the family years ago in Ludlow, a small town near the city. Have you heard of it?"
"Yes, but that was some time ago."
Frank wondered how soon he'd be able to get to the questions he really wanted to ask. "When I was very young man, in fact. I went to high school with the Windsor boys, Lee and Carl, and with their sister, Barbara. Then there was that terrible accident, and the family left Ludlow immediately afterward. I lost track of them."
"I see. And now you wish to inquire as to Barbara's condition."
"Yes."
Dr. Spencer sat back in his chair, his manner indicating that perhaps inquiring about a patient and being given an answer to the inquiry were two different things.
"How did you find out that Barbara is with us, Mr. Lovell?"
"That came about almost inadvertently. I had occasion to visit City Hall the other day the department of records and I came. across the name. I recognized it instantly, of course, and began to wonder about the Windsor children. Carl was killed in the accident, we learned that much, and I suppose Lee is living in the city, although he isn't listed in the phone book."
Dr. Spencer did not fall into the trap-if, indeed he recognized it as such. He ignored all reference to Lee Windsor.
"It was thoughtful of you to take the time to come here to inquire after Barbara."
"It seemed the least I could do."
Dr. Spencer regarded Frank as though he contemplated recommending him for the Citizen of the Month medal.
"Barbara is well," he said. "Physically, that is. And I believe she is happy. It was a sad case. There was some brain tissue destruction and she will always be dependent. She is a permanent patient."
"That's tragic."
"You may see her if you wish, but there would be little point in it. She would not recognize you."
"Tragic," Frank repeated. "Ah, about Lee. I'd like to get in touch with him. Do you have his address by any chance?"
"No. I'm afraid I can't help you there. I have no contact with Lee Windsor." He paused, then added, "All financial matters are handled through the Second National Bank."
Frank strove to hide his disappointment and did a fairly good job of it. "I see. Well, I won't take up any more of your time then. Thanks for seeing me."
"Don't mention it."
Frank left. The trip had been wasted. Driving back downtown, he wondered what to do next. Lee Windsor had to be located. But the police had to be left out of it. So what was the next step? A private detective? That was logical, but that kind of service came high. There were five of them involved, though. Split the cost and it wouldn't be so bad.
He resolved to call Jim Payne immediately and broach the subject.
"So that's how it was," Jim said. "Caron Lovell was pulled into Blueside Park and raped. Laurel was waylaid on the road near the riding stables and taken into the woods and raped. They were two acts of the same man. I think we have every reason to believe that man is Lee Windsor. I think we are also safe in assuming similar attempts will be made against your wife, Mike, and against the wives of Tom Weathers and Clete Watts."
They were having lunch at Ernie's and their voices were comfortably lost in the low hubbub of the other customers.
"Questions arise, of course," Mike said. "One Caron and Laurel would have recognized Lee. So, obviously he himself wasn't the rapist. That doesn't eliminate Lee, though, or destroy your theory."
"Another question, is, why after so many years?"
"We have no answer. Also, why this weird method of vengeance?"
"I think that may indicate a defective mind. Something might have happened to Lee. Maybe he cracked up. For all we know, he could have been recently released from a mental hospital."
"If we take that as an assumption, for want of a better one, it would answer the questions of both the timing and the method. We can stretch our assumption and say he was put away shortly after the accident. That would have given him years to brood over vengeance while being unable to do anything."
"It still leaves the main question! Who committed the actual rapes?"
"Have you talked to any other the others?" Mike asked.
"Frank and I have been in contact, of course. Last night I called Tom Weathers and he hung up on me. Then I called you. I don't know how to get in touch with Clete Watts. I've lost track of him."
"I heard he was in that big government plant north of town. I can find out."
"Do you agree that we ought to get the whole group together for a discussion?" Jim asked.
"Definitely."
"Then you take a crack at Tom Weathers. Maybe you can get through to him. I'll follow up on Clete Watts."
"All right but Jim, what do you think Lee's next move will be?"
"As I said, he'll try to get at the wives of the other three members of the group."
"I mean in respect to yourself. You and Frank. Caron and Laurel have been raped. Do you think he'll leave them alone now? Do you think a replay of thethe original assault with the wives of the group as principals is the extent of his plan of vengeance?"
"I don't know But I don't think any of us can take any chances. We've got a lot to lose, Mike If this thing ever broke into print "
"I see what you mean. I guess we have to make some gesture in our own-defense."
"We certainly have."
"But to go a step further. Suppose we do locate Lee? What are we going to do with him?"
"I don't know."
"It does present a problem."
"Maybe we'd better leave it alone until the group gets together. Five heads may be better than two."
"We'll leave it at that, then," Mike said.
"I'll call you as soon as I talk to Clete."
"Okay. I'll see what I can do with Tom Weathers."
Later, returning to his office, Mike was glad he hadn't been completely frank. He'd seen no reason to reveal Grace's involvement with the rapist. If it became necessary for the common good, he would tell them. But he shrank from revealing a thing so close to him, so personal.
He would wait and see how things went.
"It will only be overnight, darling," Mike said. "But if you're at all nervous, I won't go. It's not a life or death matter."
A subdued, quietly beautiful Grace came into his arms and held up her face for a kiss.
"It's all right. I'm no baby. You take care of your business. I'll just stay in the apartment where I belong when you're gone."
"That might be a good idea for tonight. You're bound to be a little nervous. If the doorbell rings, don't answer it."
"I wouldn't dare..."
So Mike left as planned and Grace found herself alone at seven-thirty that night. But she was not alarmed and she was not restless. She felt wonderful. Not excited. Just quietly and serenely happy.
She made herself a drink and sat by the French windows and looked out over the city. It was beautiful with all the lights sparkling. She wondered where Mike was. She visualized him driving through the darkness and said a little prayer for his safety.
The drink tasted good. She decided one more would make her just hungry enough for dinner.
Then she remembered she'd used the last of the bourbon on the one she'd just finished, so she went to the phone and dialed the liquor store.
When the answer came, she said, "Leo, this is Grace Bevins. Will you send a fifth of bourbon?"
The voice at the other end was low, with a special tone to it. "Sure I'll bring it over myself."
Grace would have cancelled the order if she'd had a chance, but Leo hung up quickly. She put the phone down and turned away.
Then she straightened her shoulders. What had she to be afraid of? AH that was over. She'd merely ordered a bottle of liquor. Nothing wrong in that.
The bell rang and she went to the door and opened it. But there was no stepping back to admit a guest, this time. Strictly a business transaction. The delivery of a bottle of whiskey.
"Thank you," she said. "Put it on the bHI."
Leo had blue eyes and curly black hair and a confident manner. The blue eyes opened in surprise. "He's gone, baby. I saw him drive away."
Grace's expression was frigid. "Are you referring to my husband?"
"Who else, sweetie?" He took a step forward.
"You can't come in." Grace lifted the bottle from his outstretched hand
"Now wait a minute," he said. "What gives? You mad at me or something?"
He pushed forward, easing the door open, forcing Grace to move back.
"I said you couldn't come in."
"All right all right. I already am in, but I'll leave if you say so. I'm not one to shove in where I'm not wanted."
"That's all over, Leo,", she said desperately. "I'm not fooling around any more. I'm Mike's wife, and that's all I'm going to be."
Leo grinned. "Well fine! I'm glad to hear that. I'm all for love and fidelity myself. But how about a good-bye kiss?"
Without waiting, he drew her into his arms. She struggled, but he held her without having to exert too much effort.
"No, Leo."
"Just one, baby." He lifted her face and found her lips.
She did not fight him. If this was the way to get rid of him. she thought, the kiss wouldn't be wasted. And this would be the last one.
His mouth moved. Grace kept her lips tight together and tried to push away. His tongue stiffened and pressed. Her own lips gave. But after all, there was nothing she could do. And this was still only a kiss. A good-bye kiss.
He stiffened, pushed her head back. The look in his eyes had changed. Taking her head in his hands, he looked into her face.
Then he forced her to her knees as he arced his body.
"No, Leo-no."
"Yes, baby." There was a choke in his voice, an urgency in the next quick movements he accomplished. Her head free for a moment, Grace tried to fall away, but again he imprisoned her with big hands. "No, Leo I I won't."
"Yes, you will!"
She sobbed. He held her head cruelly. Then a temporary truce, while he stood, choked kitten whimpers arose.
His body moved in ecstasy, and this seemed to remind her that she'd stopped fighting. Again she began to struggle.
He appeared to accept defeat. He backed away. "All right all right. To hell with you."
She looked at him, pathetic in her weakness. "No no. Wait "
He stood where he was. She came closer, and there would be no more battling over the issue involved. He hadn't defeated her and he knew that. He had merely held the line until she defeated herself.
He grinned. "That's my baby," he whispered harshly. "That's right that's right!"
His eyes glazed and he leaned weakly against the wall
Later, the fresh liquor bottle unopened, Grace lay on her bed crying bitterly. Things had changed. The dark city with its lavishly strewn lights was no longer beautiful. It was hideous. Hope had died, and all the brave new dreams were in ashes.
"Why am I so weak?" Grace moaned. "Why do I give up so much for one moment of sick happiness? Why am I the way I am?"
The silence had no answer and she continued to sob ...
Jim Payne looked up from his paper. "Where are you going?"
Laurel tightened the belt of her modish trench coat and adjusted her slouch hat in the mirror. They turned her into a shadowy, glamorous night figure; one to make people 'think of Greta Garbo and Marlene Dietrich in their seductive prime.
"I'm going for a walk. I'm restless."
"Do you think it's a good idea with that degenerate still slinking around?"
"What degenerate?" she asked
"Have you forgotten so soon?"
"Oh, him. What makes you think he's still around."
"I can't say for sure, of course, but I'd think a certain amount of caution would be in order."
Laurel smiled. "Darling, I'm afraid you're a worner.
He shrugged. "Well, it's your headache."
"He doesn't aim for the head, precious."
He raised his head and looked at her levelly. "Why are you mocking me, Laurel? What's come over you the past few days?"
"I think something's come over you, Jim. Why, just look at you. Sitting there reading your paper like a model husband. Now you've got to admit, that's a new image for you."
"I've been doing some thinking, Laurel."
"Tell, me-"
"I think it's about time we both settled down."
"And just what do you mean by settling down?"
"I think you know. We've had a pretty sophisticated marriage, and we've had bed fun. I think it was suited to our tastes and temperaments. But there's no real future in an open-end marriage, Laurel."
"What counselor have you been talking to?"
"I'm serious."
"I'm sure you are. Did you have a falling out with your little brunette secretary?"
"I haven't seen her outside office hours for quite some time. Besides, I think you overestimated the importance of that."
"I didn't over or underestimate Jim. To tell the truth, I didn't care one way or another."
"That's a cruel thing to say."
"Well, well! So now you're only sorry I didn't suffer. I could have, at first, if I'd allowed myself to But I've got a strong streak of self-preservation in me, Jim I intend to survive."
"That's what I'm talking about. The survival of our marriage, and therefore the survival of both of us."
"You're saying my survival depends on the success of this marriage?"
"No, not exactly."
"What you are saying is this: I think I'm tired of playing around now, little helpmate, so let's turn on the spigots and let mutual love flow freely. Love doesn't work that way, Jim."
"We could make this marriage work, Laurel."
"Perhaps, but the point isn't worth arguing. Not at the moment. I'm thinking of something else."
"What?"
"A divorce."
Alarm reflected in his eyes. "You're going to ask me for a divorce?"
"I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know later." She opened the door. "Laurel! Just a minute!"
"Don't wait up for me, pet. I may be very late."
The door closed. She was gone.
Jim didn't go after her. He half-rose from his chair. Then he dropped back and pondered the turn of events. So that was what had come between them. He thought about this a while. Then his mind drifted to the conversation he'd had with Clete Watts that afternoon.
He'd gotten through to Clete without any great trouble. Clete was polite and friendly, but not over-cordial.
"Sure I remember you, Jim. I remember the other fellows, too. I've been planning to get in touch but well, you know how it is. Time flies."
"You've gotten to be a pretty mysterious figure, Clete. Cloak-and-dagger stuff. Heard you were with the CIA."
"Indirectly. But I'm just an ordinary physicist. I do a job and collect a paycheck. Simple as that."
"Clete, the reason I called Mike Bevins and I are getting the old group together. Something's come up. I won't talk about it over the phone-"
"You can speak freely. This wire isn't tapped."
"It's quite personal, Clete. About the old days-"
Was he going to have the same trouble here he'd had with Tom Weathers? Might as well find out.
"The night we were out in the woods, Clete."
He was. He could feel Clete Watts tighten over the phone.
"Aren't you going a little far back?"
"It's the way things worked out. I'm sure that when you hear what's been going on "
"I don't want to seem rude, Jim, but I'm a pretty busy man these days. And frankly, I'm not interested in a rehash of something that I consider ancient history."
"But "
"I just don't want to talk about that, Jim. And I advise you and Bevins to forget. As a matter-of-fact, I don't think of myself as having been too deeply involved."
"Oh, you don't! Then who took his necktie off and "
"I said I don't want to discuss that."
"Okay, Clete But if trouble comes, don't tell us we didn't warn you."
It was Jim who hung up this time.
And now, with his world in sour shape generally, Jim sat staring hi the door through which Laurel had passed and wondered if he was slipping. He hadn't been able to convince either of his old friends that they were in danger. He hadn't been able to keep his wife from walking out on him.