EMBRYO 5: SILVER GIRL (EMBRYO: A Raney & Levine Thriller)

by J. A. Schneider

  “Alex is grinning a mile wide. He says thanks.”

  Fingers moving, Jill went online, dragged Jay Arender’s photo from the firm’s website, and emailed it to Kerry. Then sank back in the seat, and took a huge breath.

  David was busy on his phone too. Jill leaned on his shoulder, feeling her heart tight in her chest.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking up an orthopedist at Manhattan General. His name was on Deborah’s pill bottles.”

  “That’s a lot of dope she’s taking.”

  “Uh-huh. Valium, 10 mg, OxyContin, 5 mg, QID.” David shook his head. “Double knock out.”

  “The Oxy alone.” Jill brooded out at the darkened crowds trudging home. “Five milligrams four times a day. How is she even functioning?”

  “She may have built a tolerance. Oxy addicts fast. But the Valium on top of it…”

  “Maybe she’s breaking her pills in half.”

  “She looked pretty woozy.”

  “Unbearable stress plus physical pain. I can see why Robin might feel guilty toward her.”

  Jill inhaled again, hard. Her breaths didn’t seem to come deep enough.

  Another day. Another weight of heavy images to absorb, conversations to ponder. The cab swerved. Jill was quiet for a long moment, then raised her face emotionally to David.

  “These past days have been so bad. I feel such…heartache. I want to cry.”

  He put his arm around her and held her. She fell silent, thinking about the sad, depressing reading of Jody’s will, the whole visit to the law firm with its vibe of mutual animosities. Reid Wylie, Eric Rennie, Bruno Shepard, Arender… Too many exchanges flew at her mind, especially the very strange last one.

  “Deborah seriously blushed when you leaned to her. She turned red. Fell in love with your patient, sensitive eyes.”

  “Maybe she really isn’t besotted with Reid.”

  “So what’s her game?”

  “Maybe nothing. Maybe she’s just crazy nervous.”

  “I got crazy nervous at that law firm. So many dark wool pants.”

  “It’s a different world.”

  Jill nestled into David’s warmth, and looked out at the night again. She pictured Kerri and Alex arriving at Jody’s house. Then she saw the house the way it looked on that first awful night, the shade up there ripped, the drape hanging crooked…

  The taxi window was slightly open, blasting in cold air. Thud! Thud! went Jody’s shattered glass doors. Jill saw them, clearly, and then saw Jody dead, and Celie in the morgue, her face twisted in horror at the moment of her death. The images flashed and flickered in Jill’s mind, like nightmare playing cards.

  She shivered. Felt more depressed, and so very tired.

  25

  The dog. That was the ticket.

  Edna hadn’t answered her phone, and Kerri feeling ridiculous had tried singing but her voice was hoarse from a day’s canvassing, so the singing bombed and they’d been told through the door by the frail, peevish voice to Get lost! Jump off a cliff! Go beat someone else up! Oh jeez, back to square one. Edna was scolding that she hated cops, nasty brutes, “so rough, something-something when I was…” which they couldn’t understand with the damn dog barking. “Need to nap!” they did understand; and, “Misty, stop that! My head!”

  They felt sorry for the dog, who seemed to be winding down, exhausting itself. And then it hit that Edna would worry about that – yes! It was a way in, and maybe the dear lady would be clearer than when Jill visited.

  “Mrs. Polsen, please,” Alex Brand called again, knocking. “We’re the police and we need you– ”

  Metallic scratching and rattling. The door opened maybe four inches, and a scowling little face peered from behind the chain.

  “You’re killing my Misty,” she scolded. The yapping was definitely getting weaker. “She’s old. You’re killing her.”

  “Mrs. Polsen,” Kerri said, holding up her badge. “Someone killed Jody and we need you to help us find out who.”

  “I already spoke to Jody’s lady doctor.”

  “The police need your statement too,” Kerri begged. “We can’t use Jody’s doctor’s statement, and we have some men’s photos for you to hopefully identify - and my knuckles are hurting. See? I’ve scraped my knuckles.”

  In the dim light, milky blue eyes scowled fretfully at Kerri’s badge, then at her knuckles, then at Kerri.

  “Ohh…” Relenting at seeing a female cop?

  More shaky rattling and scraping, and the door opened.

  They were in! Finally!

  She was unreal. Behind her in the darkened, musty room, a single lamp haloed the gnomish figure all in pink. Pink hair, pink kimono and slippers, pink ribbon flopping over features still pinched with sleep. At her feet, a white, bony little poodle, whose yipping turned suddenly into a cough.

  “Mercy!” She bent to pick up the little thing. “One of your attacks, sweetheart. Oh, come over here.” She tottered the dog across the room and put it into an armchair. “There,” she said, patting and patting with her back still turned. “Rest now, sweetheart, you’ll feel much better.”

  The detectives had moved further into the room, and Alex reached for another lamp. “Okay if I turn this on, Mrs. Polsen?”

  She turned and peered at them, blinking in confusion as if she’d forgotten they were there. Both were studying the end of the room, and the glass doors to the wrought-iron balcony beyond. Same as upstairs.

  Kerri got out her notebook, and Alex asked his first question to make their statement official. “Two nights ago around eleven. Did you see or hear anything unusual?”

  Edna frowned worryingly. “What’s today?”

  “Friday,” Alex said. “Friday evening, actually.”

  “Can’t be Friday. It’s Saturday, I just woke up.”

  From a nap, they reminded her. In the armchair, Misty snored and wheezed. A loud, depressing sound from such a little critter.

  “Mrs. Polsen,” Kerri said, stepping closer. “Detective Brand told you through the door that Jody Merrill and Celie Jarrett were both murdered. Do you remember that?”

  A hesitation, then her face crumpled. “Y-yes,” she whimpered.

  “And on that night you heard a noise around eleven o’clock, that’s what you told Jody’s, ah, lady doctor.”

  Edna’s bony hands went clasped to her chest. “No…” She turned away. Scooped up her little dog and tottered into her dimly lit bedroom.

  No she heard nothing, or no she didn’t want to talk about it?

  They followed. She placed the sleeping dog by her pillows, took a hankie from under a small lamp, and held it, sniffling, to her eyes.

  Alex and Kerri looked around. The bed, unmade with a small-body depression, had a clear view of the window, through which they saw the wrought-iron balcony turn down to the iron steps.

  Pointing across the room, Alex asked Edna, “Did you see anyone out there that night?”

  The hankie came down. The bloodshot eyes peered out and seemed to brighten. “Yes. I saw Celie just before eleven. She’s Jody’s best friend, you know. Both dear girls, but what a ruckus their friends sometimes– ”

  “Celie?” Alex went to the dark window, looked tensely up and down. “You saw Celie Jarrett on those steps?” Kerri scribbled excitedly. This was good. They were starting from the beginning and had to have it down.

  Another swipe with the hankie. “Yes,” Edna said tearfully. “Celie came running down. The crash must have scared her.”

  Both detectives stared at her.

  Haltingly, fingers touching her cheek, Edna explained. Something broke up there. And then something else bigger. Just the most horrible, glass-breaking sound, which must have frightened Celie because she was running down fast. “Maybe because that man was chasing her. They have such spats.”

  Kerri’s pen stilled.

  Alex asked, “Any idea who he was?”

  Edna peered fretfully at him. “Who who was?”

&
nbsp; “The man chasing Celie. After the crash.”

  “Which crash?”

  “The second one!” both said at once. “The bigger one.”

  Too fast, too loud, too many questions. Edna’s lips moved fretfully, saying nothing. She peered at her little dog and then at her dark carpet and anywhere but the cops, and shook her head. “I feel faint,” she whimpered.

  They had her sit in the armchair by her lamp, and spoke soothingly. Told her what a big help she’d already been, and how grateful Jody would be for more help.

  Kerri hunched down before Edna, and scrolled slowly through her tablet photos of mug shots, good-looking cops with dark hair, Eric Rennie, Reid Wylie, and Jay Arender.

  “Was it any of these men you saw?” Kerri asked. “Can you identify one of them from that night?”

  The faces scrolled. Edna seemed too fascinated by the tablet, then brightened and pointed. “Mr. Wylie! Jody adores him.”

  “Was that him out there?” Alex pointed back to the window.

  “When?”

  Misty wheezed.

  Alex gulped in air, gestured a bit too wildly. “That night. Chasing Celie.”

  “Oh…” Edna blinked at Reid’s photo. He was smiling in it. She tilted her head and smiled back at him.

  “He was here,” she said sweetly.

  Alex gaped at her. “When, please?”

  “Lots of times.” Edna reached for Kerri’s tablet. The voice was still frail, but she was getting clearer, more self-assertive, even. From the visit maybe? From human contact? “Would you show me how to do this?” she asked politely.

  Kerri showed her. Alex had turned away frustrated, chewing his fisted knuckles.

  Edna scrolled as if enjoying a new toy. “Oh look,” she said, stopping at the photo of Jay Arender. “He was here too. Out there on the stairs.”

  “That night?” Kerri asked her.

  “Yes.”

  The room erupted in silent jubilation. Kerri tremulously scribbled and Alex pumped his fist - yes! They’d broken the case! They had an eyewitness!

  Kerri pointed to Arender; repeated carefully, “You saw this man chasing Celie down those steps that night, right?”

  Edna held the tablet closer to her face. “Well, not chasing,” she said uncertainly, tilting her head now in confusion. “He went down slowly. He’s not as handsome as Mr. Wylie, you know, but he did look nice with that lovely white snow in his hair.”

  They stared at her.

  Snow in his hair?

  Please God, tell me I didn’t hear that.

  Alex dropped to the bed. His chin sank down and he breathed deeply, imitating the dog’s wheezing.

  Kerri stood. “Mrs. Polsen,” she said, sounding crushed, “It’s April now. There is no snow.”

  The crinkly eyes rounded; looked so sad to disappoint. Contrite as a child, Edna earnestly poked at the tablet again.

  “Then it must have been Mr. Wylie on the stairs.” She pointed. “Yes, it was him!”

  Clearly she wasn’t sure, and was just trying to please. Both detectives eyed the face she was pointing to.

  Then traded looks of defeat.

  Officer Tom Carey would be surprised he’d been fingered in the Merrill/Jarrett murders.

  At the door, they were giving their exhausted, disappointed good-byes when Edna’s regretful eyes lit again.

  “I have an important message for Jody’s lady doctor,” she said conspiratorially.

  Oh? What was that?

  “I had a terrible, frightening dream,” she whispered. “And in my dream I saw him again, the man.”

  “The man chasing Celie down the stairs?” Kerri asked in tired surprise.

  “Yes, yes! I mean, this time I saw him better, and he was different, but I can’t remember how he was different.” The bony little hands clasped emotionally. “Please tell Jody’s lady doctor that I’ll call her if I remember?”

  “You can call us.” They’d given Edna their cards.

  “No, it should be Jody’s lady doctor. She was Jody’s friend, she should be the first to know.” Edna tottered away, looking suddenly confused again. “Now where did I leave her card. Jill, her name is?” She disappeared back into the dimness of her parlor, whimpering, “You know, it could have been Mr. Wylie on the stairs that night. I’m just not sure…”

  Alex adjusted Edna’s slide bolt. Checked that it clicked home as he dejectedly pulled the door closed.

  26

  Elephants? Why elephants?

  The thought flashed like a thunderbolt, and Jill jerked up on the couch. Wasn’t even aware she’d cried out.

  “What?” David sitting next to her looked worried. They were in the OB doctors’ lounge.

  “An idea. Wait, something’s glimmering.” She was scowling and scrolling away at her phone, chewing her lip. Finally stopped at her photo of Jody’s crowded coffee table; pointed to the small pair of antique Chinese elephants. “Did Eric Rennie strike you as someone who’d want, appreciate and enjoy these?”

  “Ha. He looked pretty sour hearing about it.” David took Jill’s phone and stared at the photo. “Cracked his knuckles, like it was a joke he didn’t appreciate.”

  “Maybe they kept drugs in the elephants? Coke?”

  “That crossed my mind.”

  “Elephants?” they heard Sam murmur.

  Jill nodded to him and looked back to David. “But when Jody and Eric were together and using, they must have had other hiding places. Why were these little elephants special?”

  “Who knows?”

  Jill’s frown deepened and her heart throbbed as if impatient with her, as if pushing her to do more. “I’m wired,” she groaned. “I want to run back out and find something. Maybe something we missed in Jody’s apartment.”

  “I feel the same,” David said tightly. “There’s something else bothering me.”

  “What?”

  “A nagging feeling. An idea that’s been bugging me.”

  “Not the elephants?”

  “No.”

  They looked up at their friends, who were listening to them sad-eyed and picking at pizza, still solemn after hearing about Jody’s gift to the hospital. Tricia was tearful. Sam MacIntyre stared at his running shoes. Woody Greenberg took Jill’s phone from her, and stared at the elephants.

  Jill and David weren’t on call tonight, but instead of picking up Jesse and heading straight home, they’d wanted to touch base here, recount the visit to the law firm and shake off its nasty vibe. Jesse stood by Jill’s knees, happily scooping cut-up pizza pieces and pushing them into his mouth.

  Tricia, on Jill’s other side of the couch, wasn’t even eating. “The way that will sounds,” she said, wiping an eye subtly so Jesse wouldn’t see. “It’s as if Jody knew...”

  “She was convinced she was going to die young,” Sam said. “She told me that once.”

  They all fell silent. Woody passed Jill’s phone to Sam, who stared at the little elephants.

  Other interns and residents came and went, and the TV across the room burbled softly, but the Group of Five huddled in their own purposeful world. It was a comfort to be back with them. They were Jill’s and David’s family. With truly good friends or soul mates, you can just sit and glower. Be thoughtful or moody. You don’t have to talk.

  Woody looked at Jill, his brow furrowed. “Those were Jody’s words about the elephants? ‘To lift you into more crazy trips?’”

  “Yes,” she said, watching Sam hand her phone to Tricia. Her frustration felt like a pressure cooker ready to blow. She saw David glaring at the floor with his elbows on his knees, and she inhaled heavily. “I’m tired. We’re tired. My brain’s too fried to work, and I have this feeling that just won’t clear for me.”

  “Ditto,” David muttered.

  Ceiling lights flashed off Tricia’s glasses as she looked up frowning. “Jody must’ve had pals who used and knew about the elephants…”

  “And Jody may have feared they’d tamper with them.” Woody
was suddenly on the edge of his chair. “Maybe mix white-powdered penicillin with the white-powdered coke.”

  David stared at him, paling. “Yes,” he whispered; and Sam said, “So it was a joke. A taunt saying, ha! I knew!”

  Jill panned her friends’ intent faces, processing what they were saying. But something still nagged.

  “What if,” she breathed, “Jody was right in fearing others tampering with the elephants, but - she was wrong about it being Eric? She had tense relations with a lot of people. Anyone could have tampered. So the real joke was, she simply stopped using the elephants. Was mostly staying away from the coke anyway.”

  David complained that their reasoning was going around in circles; they were guessing, grabbing at straws.

  “We’re trying,” Woody protested. Jesse gaped from the others back to his mother, as if sensing the intensity they all felt.

  “Ma?” he piped, his pizza forgotten.

  Jill smiled reassuringly at him. “Mommy’s just making a phone call,” she said, punching her speed dial. David reached for him and scooped him into his lap, hugging him, grabbing a baby wipe to get the pizza sauce off his face. He squirmed and submitted, but his little moon eyes stayed on Jill.

  And Kerri answered on the other end. “We just left Edna’s.” She sounded in despair. There was the sound of a car door slamming. “The dear lady may have seen Reid Wylie or Jay Arender or a cop named Tom Carey on the stairs. She vacillated, was completely uncertain. So we have nada.”

  “You still there?” Jill had the phone’s sound turned up.

  “Yeah, we’re just outside. Gonna head back.”

  “Wait. Go back up to Jody’s? Look for some antique Chinese elephants.”

  “Antique what?”

  “Chinese elephants, a small pair on the coffee table. They have to be hollow; have the lab analyze their insides. Jody left them in her will to Eric Rennie, but he can’t get his hands on them until they go through probate. Lemme know if you can’t find them?”

  “Will do. By the way, Edna had a nightmare about the killer. Dreamt she saw him again and he looked different. Can’t remember how he looked different, but she wants to call you and only you if she remembers.”