Right To Die - Jeremiah Healy

by Jeremiah Healy

  There was something very wrong. Roja was too calm, feeding it to me too freely. "The notes, Inés. Why the notes?"

  "To bring on her worry. To ruin her peace of mind even before I have the chance to give her the rabies. Do you see? To make her think about dying, like my father, my mother. And me."

  "The notes were risky."

  "Yes, but I researched them as well. I read the files of hate letters she received. I made certain that my notes sounded as though a man had sent them."

  "Why did you come to me?"

  Roja frowned. "The notes in the mail were not working on Andrus, John. Not even the one I put in the mailbox of the house. I got Alec concerned about them, but he could not cause the great professor to worry either. Even when I went to the police, the idiot Neely I know will never think of me. No, even then she is not upset enough."

  "So you bring me in, to make it seem like something she should be worrying about."

  "Yes."

  "That was taking a bigger risk, wasn't it?"

  The dreamy smile was making me chilly. "You flatter yourself, John, It was some risk. But I needed you for another reason also."

  I said, "Manolo."

  A gentle tipping of the head. "Manolo fired the shots at us. Outside the house, to make the good professor more scared, but also to keep everyone thinking it is a man behind the notes. A rifle is a man's weapon."

  I didn't bother to debate her. "How did you get Manolo to do that?"

  Roja poured more cider. "I explained to him that a bad man was trying to scare the great professor with the notes, that she had to take the threat more seriously. That he had to help me persuade her."

  "So Manolo shoots to miss."

  "But to hit the mailbox, to lead you to the new note in it."

  "Why didn't you send any notes to San Diego?"

  A shrug. "The one at the school had no effect on Andrus when she came back from Sint Maarten. Also, I found the notes were not . . . satisfying unless I was near her, to see her reaction to them as they arrive."

  "And last Wednesday night, at the house?"

  "Simple. I tell Manolo, 'The professor is in danger, go get your rifle!' Then, downstairs, I unlock the door for you. When Manolo comes back from his room, I sign to him about you. I tell him, 'Cuddy. Cuddy is the bad one.' "

  I said, " 'He is going to shoot the professor.' "

  Now a wicked smile. "I tell him the same thing I can yell at you when I hear your voice downstairs."

  "You hit Manolo's arm, threw off his aim."

  "I can't let him kill you." A condescending glance. "I thought you were a professional, that you would shoot him with ease. Then you stumble on the stairs, and I realize that he will kill you. That is not sure enough."

  "Not sure enough of Manolo being out of the picture."

  "Exactly."

  "And you couldn't let him live because — "

  "Because he would discover that I killed the woman he took an oath to the old doctor to protect. Manolo would not rest until he found me." The wicked smile again. "That is the other reason I needed you, John. I did not want to die the way Manolo would avenge Andrus's murder."

  I kept my voice as neutral as possible. "After that, in the hospital, why did you tell me you thought somebody else was helping Manolo'?"

  "Because I thought you would see it anyway. Also, I cannot dare being there as she suffers the seizures, so I wanted to be sure you are bothering her with questions. Questions that she would have no patience for as the disease grew within her."

  "Why come back here, Inés?"

  "To live in this house as my home! Andrus destroyed my family, took my father from my mother and me. We left in shame for what she did. Now the great professor repays her debt."

  The pupils danced in Roja's head. "The irony, John, do you see the . . . exquisite irony? Andrus could not live here, not even for a day, because she killed her husband. I will live here, for the rest of my life, because I have killed her."

  "Inés, the Spanish authorities aren't going to allow that."

  "You know them so well?"

  "I know the police in Boston. And the prosecutors. They'll pursue you through the government here."

  "Extradition?" She slurred the word.

  I said, "Yes."

  "Do you really believe I will let that happen, John?"

  "You confessed to me. No compulsion, no threats. The scientific evidence from the autopsy will establish Andrus was killed by rabies."

  "Only three persons ever lived once the rabies fit comes. I know, I did my research well." Roja blinked, shifting clumsily in her chair.

  "Andrus always . . . spouted her message, John, that it is right to die. Now she has become her message. It was right for her to die."

  "Inés, I'm going to the police here. They'll hold you for the authorities in the States. The law will catch up to you."

  "The law?" Roja laughed, that merry sound from the St. Patrick's Day party. "John, John. The great professor had such faith in the law. So much faith. Well, I do not. When my father was disgraced and Andrus went unpunished, I lost my . . . taste for the law."

  Melodramatically, Roja swung her gaze around us. I looked quickly, but saw only a gull, landing at the edge of the cliff.

  "This is where I should have spent my life, John. I may have lost my taste for the law, but I have found revenge to be quite sweet."

  She lifted the tumbler, a little unsteadily. "Like new sidra on the tongue."

  I was about to tell her she'd had enough when the glass slipped from her hand and thumped onto the grass. Roja's eyes rolled up into her head as she slid down and out of her chair, hitting the ground before I could catch her. The impact knocked loose one of her silver combs.

  On my knees, I cradled Roja's head in my right palm. "What did you take?"

  Her lips barely moved. "It is too late."

  "Inés, what did you put in the cider?"

  The eyes came back, but unfocused. "I did all my research well. See, I even cheat the hangman."

  "Inés — "

  "Tell me, John. Do you really believe in the law?"

  The wind whipped a hank of hair across her face. I brushed it away from her mouth. "Like you once said, Inés, I'd rather put my faith in people."

  The merry laugh spooked the gull. Its shadow passed over us as Inés Loredo Roja went slack against my hand.

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