V 15 - Below the Threshold

by Allen L Wold (UC) (epub)

  “That doesn’t make any sense to me,” Abbot said.

  “Wishful thinking on their part,” Jack suggested, just as the doorbell rang.

  Emily went to answer, with Jack and Abbot standing just out of sight of the door, guns drawn.

  “Hello, Marvin,” Emily said. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Dahlgren asked as he came into the living room. He stopped short when he saw Jack and Abbot, both putting away their guns.

  “You know Dr. Page,” Emily said. “This is Douglas

  Abbot. Dr. Page and Mr. Abbot got me out of a lot of trouble, but—I’ll have to let them tell you about that.” “Is that why you called me over?” Dahlgren asked. “No, I really do want to talk about the Carpentier job.” “I called her last night,” Dahlgren said, looking suspiciously from Jack to Abbot. “She’s willing to sign the contract, if I can produce the same kind of job you proposed to her. ”

  “That should be no problem,” Emily said. “I’m going to have to stay in hiding for a while, but I can work with you all you want.”

  “What do you have to hide for?”

  “There’s some very bad business going down,” Abbot said, “and the people involved think that Emily knows more about it than she does. They were holding her in a secret prison up until about three o’clock this morning, and they’re very likely to come looking for her again. In just a couple of hours we’re going to a safe house. If she just lays low for a while, her part in this won’t be important to them any more, and they’ll let her be.”

  “Who’s ‘them’?”

  “Northampton and the mob.”

  “Jesus!”

  “Emily?” Jack said. “Are you all right?” Her face had suddenly gone absolutely white.

  “Dr. Page, I feel awful.”

  “I think you need a doctor.”

  ’‘Probably just exhaustion,” Abbot said. “I’m feeling pretty rocky myself.”

  “Rocky’s not the word for it,” Dahlgren said angrily, leading a very shaky Emily over to lie down on the couch. “Her hands are ice cold and she’s dripping with sweat. Dr. Page, can you do something?”

  “I’m a psychologist, not a physician,” Jack said. “But I know someone who’s good.”

  “Let me,” Abbot said, going to the phone. “We’ve got too many outsiders involved in this already. I want someone I can trust, someone who’s already a part of our network.” He dialed a number.

  “Let me get you a blanket,” Dahlgren said to Emily, and went back to the bedroom as if he knew his way around. He probably did, Jack thought with a twinge of jealousy.

  Dahlgren came back after a moment with two heavy wool blankets and a pillow. He wrapped Emily up, made her comfortable, then turned to Jack.

  “It seems obvious to me,” he said, “that this is serious trouble, and I don’t want any part of it. If I thought you could take care of Emily, I’d just go home now, but I think you’re going to be too busy to do that. Emily’s sick, and I’ll do what I can for her until she gets better. You and Abbot can check me out any way you want.”

  “We will,” Abbot said, putting down the phone.

  “I’ve got to call the office,” Dahlgren said. “I want to tell Joyce that I’ll be out for the day and not to worry about me, make some arrangements so I can start work as soon as Emily is up to it.” He looked squarely at Abbot. “You want to listen in?”

  “Make your call,” Abbot said. He looked too tired to care. But Jack noticed that he did in fact listen as Dahlgren made vague explanations and reassurances.

  Dahlgren was still on the phone when the doorbell rang again. Abbot was listening to Dahlgren, and Emily had dropped off to sleep, so Jack went to answer it.

  It was Dr. Betty Jobs. “Dr. Page?” she said, “do I have the right apartment?”

  “I don’t know, who are you looking for?”

  “It’s all right,” Abbot said, coming to the door. “Come on in,” he said to Dr. Jobs.

  “Where’s our patient, Douglas?” Dr. Jobs asked, then saw Emily on the couch. She went over and knelt beside her, touching her pale damp face and hand. “Let’s get her into the bedroom,” she said, rising to her feet.

  “I’ll help,” Dahlgren said. Between them they*got Emily up off the couch and half carried her out of the living room. Dahlgren came back almost at once.

  The three men waited, uncomfortable in each other’s presence. Abbot threw himself down on the couch and put his arm over his eyes. Dahlgren paced back and forth. Jack, sitting in an easy chair, wanted more than anything to take off his artificial arm so he could ease the places on his shoulder and back where the straps pressed into him.

  Dr. Jobs was not gone very long. “She’s going to be all right,” she said when she came back. “She’s suffering from exhaustion, both physical and nervous, and I’ve given her some medication that should help. She should be kept quiet for a couple days.” She looked from Jack to Abbot. “You don’t look too well yourself,” she said. “What happened?” Abbot and Jack told her about it briefly. Dr. Jobs listened with complete sympathy, Dahlgren with growing dismay.

  “I’ve got more trouble for you,” Dr. Jobs said when they’d finished. “Word came down the grapevine that somebody searched your house last night, Dr. Page. We don’t know who it was, but it wasn’t the police, so it had to be the mob.”

  “How did you find out about that?” Jack asked.

  “Tom Sarbin told me. He stopped by for something to keep him awake. One of the people who are translating those documents you got from the prison had just gotten word from a friend on the police force that there was a warrant out for your arrest. The charge is the murder of one Ryan Hadly. The reason our friendly police officer passed the word along was because the warrant was issued before the police went to your house just a couple hours ago to find the body. The house had already been searched by the time the police got there, and we figure that somebody in the department knew that Hadly was going to be there last night, and had the papers all made out ahead of time. Just in case you were thinking of going home, Dr. Page.” “Believe me, I wasn’t. I killed Hadly, all right, he’d broken in and had a gun.”

  “There was no gun found on the body.”

  “He fired two shots into the floor. Anyway, I’m staying at a hotel, or at least I’ve got a room there.”

  “Good enough. You’re being set up for a frame, Dr. Page. And from the way I hear it, the police are actively in on it.”

  “Emily said that a police lieutenant was one of the three men who kidnapped her Monday night.”

  “So we not only have the mob,” Abbot said, “working with the Visitors in Northampton, we also have the police, and God knows who in the city government, also involved in this conspiracy.”

  “That’s just too many sides to make any sense,” Dr. Jobs said.

  “I know that,” Abbot said. “And it’s driving me crazy.” “Do you need anything?” Dr. Jobs asked Abbot. “What I need is sleep. We’ll get that as soon as Sally gets us our safe house—”

  The phone rang. Jack started to go to it.

  “No,” Abbot said. “Let Dahlgren answer it. If it’s someone for Emily, they’ll understand his being here, I think.”

  Dahlgren picked up the phone and listened for a moment. “It’s for you, Dr. Jobs,” he said.

  “1 told people where I could be reached,” Dr. Jobs explained as she took the phone. “This is Dr. Jobs,” she said, then listened as the person on the other end talked. She didn’t speak again, and when she hung up, her face was grim.

  “That was Orson Strangways,” she told Abbot. “Sarbin asked him to hang around the police station, to see what he could find out. I don’t know how they did it, but somebody tipped off the police that Dr. Page is here, in this apartment, and they’re on their way right now.”

  Abbot was staring at Dahlgren. “You know anything about that?” he asked.

  “Swear to God, Abbot, I’m on y
our side.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Dr. Jobs said. “And you had better, too. And quickly.”

  File Twenty: Friday Afternoon

  Jack was sound asleep on the couch when the sound of a closing door woke him. It was Marvin Dahlgren, with a bag of groceries.

  They were in a house on Berry Avenue, toward the south edge of town. As soon as they had gotten safely away from Emily’s apartment building, Abbot had stopped at a phone booth and called his network. Sally had just then been trying to reach them, but had hung up when an unfamiliar male voice had answered Emily’s phone. She’d gotten the house, gave them the address, and Abbot had driven them directly there.

  Dahlgren put the bag of groceries down on a coffee table and took out the folder of Regency photos, which he handed to Jack. “And here’s your car keys,” he added, fishing for them in his slacks pocket. “And your money.” He handed Jack the keys and live hundred dollars in twenties.

  “I appreciate it, Marvin. What time is it?”

  “Twenty after twelve. Want some lunch?”

  “1 sure do, but what took you so long?”

  “I made a little side trip,” Dahlgren said, carrying the groceries through the dining room into the kitchen, with Jack following. “After I cashed the check and got your car, I drove by your house. I thought 1 might be able to stop in and pick up some things for you, but the police were there.” “That was pretty risky, wasn’t it,” Jack started to say when the phone rang. But before he could answer it, he heard Abbot pick up a bedroom extension.

  “1 was careful. I had a story already worked out. 1 just rang the bell, as if I were visiting, and this plainclothesman answered the door and brought me inside before 1 had a chance to ask for you. Whoever searched your house was a lot less considerate than they were at Emily’s place.” “So what happened then?”

  “They questioned me for about an hour. One of them was a Lieutenant, LeGrange was his name, but he wore a uniform, really proud of it. They wanted to know who 1 was, and where you were, of course. I told them I had come on a recommendation to see if you would take me on as a patient.”

  “Did they buy it?”

  “Sure. I just talked like Emily used to before she started seeing you. I kept it subtle, and I think that’s what convinced them. If I’d come on like a TV lunatic, they would have caught on in an instant. After an hour LeGrange looked around at the other cops and just gave up. He told me to find some other doctor.”

  “Sounds like you did good,” Jack said with a grin.

  “I think I did but I didn’t take any chances. After I left your place I went to the library, checked out a couple books on schizophrenia, then went to the grocery store and spent a lot of time shopping. Didn’t leave until the tail decided I was really innocent, and then I went home, changed clothes, and came over here.”

  “You don’t fool around, do you? That Lt. LeGrange was the one who gave me the runaround when I called about Emily on Tuesday. And Emily told us that a uniformed lieutenant was one of the three men who grabbed her.”

  “Is that right? Damn, I wish I’d known that. On the other hand, maybe it was better I didn’t. I would have kicked his balls.”

  “Where’d the groceries come from?” Abbot asked, coming into the kitchen.

  “I just bought them,” Dahlgren said, laying out the makings for lunch—coldcuts mostly.

  “You left the house?”

  “I got Jack’s car, cashed a check, had a nice talk with the police.”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You bring the cops in here I’ll give you to them.”

  “Look, Abbot, you were zonked out, Emily is sedated, Jack was dead on his feet, things needed to get done. So I did them.”

  “Yeah. And what the hell did you tell the police?”

  “That I was a sick man in need of psychological counseling.”

  “He went to my house,” Jack explained.

  “Dahlgren, you’re insane!” Abbot shouted.

  “I don’t think so,” Jack said, perversely enjoying Abbot’s discomfiture. “But don’t shout, Emily’s trying to sleep.”

  “Listen, Jack, this could be serious.”

  “Keep your pants on,” Dahlgren said. “1 knew what i was doing.”

  “Like hell you did.”

  “Look, Abbot, you know how I made my way through college? 1 sold grass. 1 don’t know how many kilos of it I moved, but it was a lot. Supplied the whole school, and the other one in town too. You learn a lot of tricks when you’re a big time dealer.”

  “You blow a lot now, huh?”

  “Haven’t touched it since 1 graduated. How 'bout some lunch?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jack said. “Let me fix it, Marvin. You fill Abbot in on what you did this morning.”

  So while Jack made up huge sandwiches with plenty of salami, cheese, mustard, and onions, Dahlgren elaborated on his morning’s activities. By the time he finished, Abbot was considerably mollified.

  “I’m sorry, Dahlgren,” he said. “You did a good job after all. That was Jenifer on the phone,” he said to Jack. “What Dahlgren says here ties in with what Dr. Jobs told us, and with what Jenifer has heard from our underground sources.

  “As far as 1 can figure, the police are working under pressure from certain lawyers, some of whom are just mouthpieces for the mob, but some others are associates of Oswald’s. It would take influence like that to keep a lieutenant on a stakeout instead of just leaving it to the ranks.”

  “Oswald’s connection doesn’t make the picture any clearer,” Jack said. “I still don’t see where he fits in.”

  “I don’t either,” Abbot admitted. “But we’re getting little hints. They wouldn’t make any sense at all if we didn’t know about Oswald meeting Kline and Dwight that night at the Regency. This is a lot bigger puzzle than we had thought, but some of the pieces are beginning to fall into place. One thing for sure, if Oswald were just a victim, he wouldn’t be using his influence this way. He’s a part of the cover-up.”

  “Somebody’s got to fill me in on all the rest of this story,” Dahlgren said as Emily walked into the kitchen.

  “1 hope these walls are soundproof,” she said, taking one of the sandwiches. “1 can hear you clear at the other end of the house.”

  “How are you feeling?” Dahlgren asked her.

  “Almost like new,” she said, smiling up at him in a way that made Jack despair. “Dr. Jobs knows her business.” “She does that,” Abbot said. He handed a sandwich to Dahlgren, and took the last one for himself. Jack had to make another. “Do you think you can tell us some more about what happened while you were being interrogated?” “I think so,” Emily said. “My head is clear for the first time since Sunday night, though my memory is still fuzzy. 1 hate to think about that time, but if it will be of any help. ...”

  “It will be,” Jack said.

  “All right,” Abbot'said as they took their sandwiches into the dining room. “We’re getting the idea that TV is mixed up in this somehow. Can you tell us anything about that?”

  “Well, they made me watch that movie.”

  “Let’s try something else,” Jack said. “Emily, did you know that Vanessa Carpentier once worked for Dwight, helping him build a TV station up in Northampton?” “Ye-es, she did mention something about that in passing. She seemed ashamed of it.”

  “What can you tell us about that?” Jack encouraged, in his best professional voice.

  “Gee, not much. She was paid well, she said. It was an easy job.”

  “Where was this station?” Abbot asked.

  “In Northampton. In a shopping mall I think.”

  “There are five or six malls up there,” Abbot said. “Did she mention which one?”

  “No. I haven’t been to Northampton since the Visitors came. I’m not sure I remember where all the malls are.” “I can ask her,” Dahlgren said. “1 have an appointment with her later today.”

  “She doesn’t like to talk about it,” J
ack told him.

  “I can be subtle. We’ve got a lot of consultation to do. She thinks I’m taking on the job all by myself, she doesn’t know Emily’s going to be coaching me. So I’ve got to sell myself to her, and that means lots of talking about other things besides the redecorating.” He turned to Emily. “That’s going to be a fantastic job,” he said. “We might be able to move to New York on the strength of it.”

  “I guess,” Abbot said, “1 don’t have to tell you about discretion.”

  “Discretion is one thing,” Dahlgren told him, “that 1 know everything about. You understand?”

  Emily looked confused, as if she knew nothing about Dahlgren’s dope-dealing past, but Abbot just clenched his mouth and nodded.

  “It was on the second floor,” Emily said suddenly. “What was?” Dahlgren asked.

  “The studio. It was in a mall, but it was on the second lloor. ” She looked up at them. “Does that help?”

  “It sure does, sweetheart,” Abbot said. “There’s only one two-story mall in Northampton, the Fairfield at the north edge of town.”

  “You think we ought to go check it out?” Jack asked. “Are you kidding? We’re going right now.”

  “What about Emily?” Dahlgren asked.

  “Can you stay here with her for a little while?” Abbot asked. “I’ll get somebody to come over, and then you can go have your meeting with Ms. Carpentier.”

  “That’s not until three,” Dahlgren said.

  “Then we’re on our way,” Abbot answered.

  File Twenty-one: Friday Afternoon

  They took Abbot’s car, just in case the police were on the lookout for Jack’s, and drove north up Wade Avenue. It joined with US 81, which they took through the center of the town to where the bridge spanned the bay, first to Rigley Island, and from there to Northampton on the north shore.

  Rigley Island was a neutral zone. Before the Visitors came, it had been used primarily as a marina for the Yacht Club, and a base for small fishing boats that plied the Atlantic coast. Now it was abandoned, except for two guard posts.

  The post on the Freeport side was manned by human soldiers from up north. When Abbot stopped at the barricade, the corporal on duty just asked their names, then waved them on. “Just checking the sound of our voices,”