Chapter 13
When Joy awakened, the room was dark except for the dull glow of a small night lamp. Glancing at the window, she could see it was night.
Realization of where she was and why came back slowly. The two men at her apartment, then the detective and the questions. And Clay. Yes, Clay Trent had been with her.
Her fingers went to her chin. There was a small bandage. Her chest felt tight. A tight wrapping was the reason. And she was so dry. Her lips felt parched.
She pressed the button on the cord next to her pillow.
A nurse appeared. "Pain?" she asked. "I'll call the doctor."
"No, I'd like a drink of water if I can have one," Joy said.
The nurse held a glass with a straw. "I'll call Dr. Trent," she said.
"I'm all right," Joy protested.
"Orders. Dr. Trent left word he was to be notified when you woke up."
Joy shrugged.
A few minutes later, Clay came in. "Feel better?"
"I told the nurse I was all right. She needn't have called you."
"I left orders. I wanted to talk to you before the police came back in the morning. Think you're up to telling me what this is all about?"
Joy eyed him. "You must know. You heard the questions the detective asked me. It's true. I am Bart McLane's girl friend. I've been his girl for almost a year."
"I see." Clay paused. "I have a lawyer friend here in New York. Suppose I call him. He owes me a favor."
Joy forced a laugh. "I don't need a lawyer. This is New York, Clay. I'm not going to be arrested because I happen to be a kept woman." As she spoke, Joy watched his face for a reaction. Other than a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, there was none.
"Why a man like McLane. And why try to protect him now?"
"Protect him?" Joy laughed, again. "Bart isn't a man who needs protection. He can take care of himself. Besides, I told the truth. I don't know where he is."
"The police, obviously think you do. And I dare say the men who beat you up do too. I want to help you. I feel responsible for this mess you're in."
"You? Why?"
"I'm the reason you're in New York. You left Havenhurst because of me."
"Aren't you being a little naive, Clay? That was almost two years ago. I'm not a child. All that is long forgotten." Joy paused, "I would like a cigarette if you have one."
He fumbled in his jacket pocket and brought out a pack. After lighting one, he handed it to her.
"I tried to find you when I first came to New York. I talked to your mother before I left home. She told me you were here."
Joy's eyebrows lifted. She smiled. "You talked to my mother? I'll bet your Dad had something to say about that."
"I had it out with him when I graduated. We had a fight. That's what decided me on interning here in New York."
"And all his great plans for you?"
"His plans meant living in his shadow. He didn't like it when I told him I wanted a general practice and not surgery." Clay hesitated. "And when he decided who I was to marry."
Joy laughed. "You have grown up, Clay," she said, with a touch of alacrity.
"Enough so I know life isn't a bed of roses. I've learned more about life since coming to New York than I would in a lifetime in the hospital at Havenhurst. I've seen cases here that I didn't think possible."
"Like a girl beat up by a pair of hoodlums?" There was a trace of bitterness in her tone.
"You know I don't mean that. And I do want to help you. I walked out on you once. I don't intend to do it, again."
"Aren't you being a little ridiculous, Clay? A doctor doesn't get mixed up with my kind. Maybe you haven't taken a good enough look. I'm not the starry eyed kid I was in Havenhurst."
Anger flared in Clay's eyes. "Stop trying to be hard. Right now, you're scared. Admit it."
"No more than I was the night your rather walked in on us. I didn't know the score then. Now, I do. I don't need your help, Clay. I've learned to: take care of myself. Now, I'd like to get some more sleep. Please go and leave me alone."
Joy wasn't prepared when he leaned down, suddenly, and kissed her hard on the mouth. Then, without a word, he turned and left.
A tremble came as Joy watched him leave. She wondered why he had kissed her. She touched her lips. The past came back. Then an anger. Perhaps he was thinking he could pick up where he left off. A tremulous laugh caught in her throat. He has no right to interfere in my life, she thought. He can't bring something back that is dead. Still ... she wasn't sure. It was so long ago, so many centuries ago. Clay wasn't the same. And she wasn't. Tears came, rolling down her cheeks. Joy was unaware that she was crying.
Lt. Saunders and another detective came early the next morning.
"I want you to tell me everything you did since leaving the states, Miss Lansing. The least thing might be important."
"There isn't much. We went to London, first. Bart had some business to attend to there."
"With who?" Saunders interrupted.
"I don't know. Bart never told me anything about his business." Joy went on, telling him about the trip to Paris, about Bart leaving her for Italy and then calling her. She told him everything she could remember, leaving out only the time she spent with Janine McLane.
Saunders frowned. "And he called you and told you to come back by way of London and Montreal. Did he say why? Didn't you wonder?"
Joy shook her head. "He insisted I do exactly as he asked. He said he'd try to get in touch with me later. He said he was going to Spain and would be moving a lot and that I couldn't come with him."
"And that's all?"
"Yes. I came home and yesterday those two men came."
"Did you tell the men about Spain?"
"I don't think so. I don't remember".
Saunders exchanged a glance with the other detective. "You thinking what I am?" he asked.
The other detective nodded. "You mean London and Montreal. Why should McLane have her take a circular route? Why not right home from Paris."
Lt. Saunders nodded. "McLane makes it a setup." He turned to Joy. "He intended to see that what happened to you, would. He knew Maratti would have someone watching you. And they'd follow you home. The London and Montreal trip was a stall for time."
"You mean he-" Joy gasped.
"Exactly. Maratti's hoods beat information out of you. You tell them Italy and he goes somewhere else. My guess is a later plane following yours."
Saunders turned to his partner. "Get back to headquarters and have them contact the Montreal police. It's just a guess but worth a try. Let's just hope Maratti doesn't think the same."
"Solly's no fool, Jess," the other detective commented and left.
Lt. Saunders returned his attention to Joy. He took a ledger from a brief case he was carrying. "These are pictures of well known hoods. I doubt if you'll find the men in here who beat you up, but it's worth a try." He opened it on the bed in front of her.
Joy kept shaking her head as he turned the pages. "The one was big and ugly. I don't see him here," she said. "His friend was kind of ordinary looking, thin faced."
"Probably a couple of imports from the coast. Maratti is too smart to use any of his local boys," Saunders said.
Joy looked up at him. "You you really think Bart knew I was going to get beat up? I can't believe that. He isn't like that at all."
"When a man is desperate, he does a lot of things one finds hard to believe, Miss Lansing. The kind of information he can give a grand jury could send Maratti to jail for life."
"Then why?"
"Why hasn't he answered the subpoena?" The detective cut in.
"His life wouldn't be worth a wooden nickel. The protective custody we could give him would only last through the trial. Maratti has a lot of long arms. They wouldn't let him live very long." He paused and looked at Joy. "I'd suggest you leave New York once you get out of the hospital."
"Leave?"
"If you don't want a lot of publicity. Right now, this has been kept from the papers, but it will get out. The scandal rags will find you and hound you for a story. McLane is news. That makes you news."
Joy frowned. She was well aware of what he meant. She was still frowning after Lt. Saunders left and Clay Trent came in.
"I want to take a look at that rib of yours," he said.
Joy trembled as his fingers probed her rib cage, easing under the bandage. His hands were so cool and gentle. She wondered if he was aware of her trembling. Looking at his dark head bent over her, she wondered what he was thinking.
He looked up. "You'll be all right except for the rib, Joy. They take time to heal. A week maybe, and then you'll have to come back for a check-up. It isn't broken but it is cracked and might give you some trouble."
Joy felt an urge to laugh. She had met Bart McLane because of a broken rib and now she was back in the hospital again, this time, indirectly because of him. A different hospital but the same circle.
"I talked to the detective. There are no charges against you. Where will you go when you leave here?"
"Back to my apartment," Joy said softly.
"I didn't mean that. Lt. Saunders told me he advised you to leave town. I told him I knew you."
"That was hardly necessary, Clay."
"I had to know if you were being arrested. What about money? Do you need some? I'll see that the hospital bill , is taken care of, but . "
"I have money, Clay. I can pay my own way," Joy cried, angrily. "I don't need Trent money."
Clay winced "Damn it, I'm only trying to help," he said.
"And I told you last night, I don't need any help. If you have any ideas of picking up where we left off in Havenhurst, the answer is no. Let's understand that, Clay."
"You think that I ... ? "
"You kissed me last night. There had to be a reason," Joy flared. "Just leave me alone. I'm only your patient, nothing else."
He stared at her for a long minute, then turned and walked out.
Joy watched the door close. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again. And she was disappointed when he didn't.
Clay only came back twice in the next five days. When he examined her, they shared an uncomfortable silence. Joy was almost glad another intern did most of the checking.