There was a deathly silence in the room. Beth had to fight the urge to babble on and fill it, but Cole had told her to say her lines and nothing more.
Claire slowly licked her lips. “Your uncle?” she said at last. “You mean Larisa was murdered by a relative?”
“Ms. Delaney,” Cole said, “all three of us know which uncle Beth is referring to.”
“Excuse me? Don’t try to tell me what I know, okay? I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. The only one of her uncles I ever knew was Mark. And he certainly didn’t do it. He was in his office, with me, when Larisa was murdered.”
“We know that’s what you told the police. But let me fill you in on what’s been happening recently.
“When Beth’s memory surfaced, she didn’t want to accuse her uncle on the basis of that alone. She realized she might be a victim of false memory syndrome. So I was hired to investigate the case—which is how I know what you told the police.
“And, as you’re aware, after you gave Dr. Niebuhr an alibi, they didn’t consider him a suspect. But because of Beth’s recovered memory, I certainly did. So I dug around in places that they never had. And I turned up proof the he wasn’t in his office all morning.
“What sort of proof?” Claire demanded.
“Someone saw him in the middle of the morning. On Avenue Road, about halfway between his house and his office.”
“They must have been mistaken.”
Cole shook his head. “It was actually two people. They were together when they saw him, and both of them knew him well. They wouldn’t have mistaken anyone else for him.”
“You know how Mark had always been…so dis-tinctive looking,” Beth contributed. “With his lion’s mane of hair and all.” That was her final line. The rest was up to Cole.
“Why didn’t these people tell the police they’d seen him?” Claire asked.
Beth tensed. There weren’t any people, of course, which made this the weak link in their bluff. And if Cole’s explanation didn’t sound believable enough…
“Because the police didn’t ask them,” he said, his casual shrug implying the answer should have been obvious.
“As I said, once you gave Dr. Niebuhr his alibi, he wasn’t a suspect So they weren’t looking for evidence that would implicate him. And when the newspapers requested help from the public, they asked anyone who’d seen a stranger in the vicinity of the murder to contact the police.”
Claire stared at Cole as if she wasn’t sure whether he was being straight with her or not
“Look,” he said. “I’m about to hand over the information I’ve gathered to the cops. If you tell me the truth about that morning, and I include it in my report, it’ll be obvious that you’ve chosen to cooperate.
“I’m not trying to say that’s as good as if you’d been honest way back then. But if you tell me the real story right now, it’ll look better for you than if you were still sticking to your lie when I talked with you.”
“And why should you care whether it looks better for me?”
Cole gave her another shrug. “Frankly, I don’t. But we’ll both benefit if you come clean now. I’m going to be dropping a virtually solved murder case in their laps. And every thread I’ve tied up for them, everything I’ve done that saves them effort, is going to earn me more brownie points. And in my line of work, I often need favors from the cops.”
Beth held her breath while Claire eyed Cole and he eyed her back.
“You don’t have a virtually solved murder case,” she finally said. “Just because I gave Mark an alibi doesn’t mean he killed his wife. And the fact those people saw him that morning doesn’t, either.”
Beth exhaled slowly. They still didn’t have proof that Mark had murdered Larisa, but now they had both motive and opportunity. And between the journal, Cole’s theory about how Mark had been the one to hide the murder weapon, and Claire’s admission that she’d lied, surely the police would see that they’d arrested the wrong man.
But then they’d be arresting her uncle. A man she’d loved and trusted all her life. She blinked back tears as Claire finally broke the silence.
“Mark had a nine o’clock patient that morning,” she said. “But then he was free until the afternoon. We’d blocked out the time for him to work on a paper he’d been invited to present at a conference.
“He had some research to do for it, though, so he couldn’t work on it in his office. He had to go to the library. That’s where he really was when Larisa was killed. But when the police came to the office in the afternoon, and told him Larisa was dead…”
“Yes?” Cole said.
“Well, before he left with them, he talked to me—asked me to swear that he’d been in the office all morning, working on the paper.”
“Why?”
“He said he knew that in a murder case, the husband is always the primary suspect. And that he hadn’t seen anyone he knew at the library, and he doubted anyone there would have noticed him. He said he’d just slipped into the stacks and worked on his own in one of the carrels.”
“He said no one would have noticed him? But he’s the type of man that people always notice.”
“Well…yes.”
“Then why did you lie? Why didn’t you point out that someone would remember seeing him there? And tell him that you weren’t going to cover for him?”
Claire shrugged.
“You must have had a reason,” Cole pressed. “People don’t perjure themselves for the fun of it”
She hesitated, then said, “All right, I had a reason. I was in love with him. We’d been involved for about a year, and when he asked me to make things easier for him…”
Beth bit her lip as an image of Larisa appeared in her mind’s eye. Mark had killed her because she’d been having an affair, when at the very same time he’d been having one of his own. There was just so much in the world that wasn’t right.
“Look, I know how horrible this is going to sound,” Claire continued, “but when I heard Larisa was dead, the first thing I thought was that now Mark and I could get married.
“We didn’t, of course. He…we broke things off a couple of years later—which was when I went looking for a new job. But, at the time, when he asked me to tell a little white lie, I didn’t see how it could hurt. Not when I knew he hadn’t killed her.
“You were right to realize you could be a victim of false memory syndrome,” she added to Beth. “Because if you remember Mark as the killer, your memory is wrong. I could never have been in love with a man who was capable of murder.”
“HE WAS CAPABLE OF MURDER,” Beth murmured as they headed back to Cole’s car. After being close to Mark for so many years, she was having a lot of trouble coming to terms with that. But she simply knew, deep down, that he had been the one. And saying the words out loud made it a little more real.
“You’re remembering the true killer’s face now? And it was Mark?”
“No. Not exactly. But you know how I’ve been insisting, all along, that the image of my father couldn’t be right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, my memory still isn’t picturing Mark as the killer. But when I imagine him standing there with the knife…That image seems right. I mean, as much as I hate that it does, it’s a fact. So doesn’t that have to mean he did it?”
Cole reached for her hand. “I doubt the police would buy it as proof positive. But Mark said your memory would probably grow more detailed over time. So if that happens…Or maybe you should talk to somebody. Another psychiatrist—one who’s worked with other people who’ve recovered memories. One who could help you sort things out”
“I think you’re right. But in the meantime,” she added as they got into the car, “do we have enough that they’ll release my father?”
“I hope so.” Cole started the engine and pulled away from the curb.
“You mean you don’t think so?” she pressed when he offered nothing more.
“I just don’t know,
but you shouldn’t count on it.”
She tried to fight off her disappointment. She’d pretty well convinced herself that she could count on it.
“Remember when you and Mark first came to see me?” Cole continued. “How you were talking about the police having tunnel vision?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, you were right. Sometimes they do. And at the moment, they’re sitting with a pretty solid circumstantial case against your father.
“Your mother had a key to the Niebuhrs’, which she couldn’t account for at the time of the murder. Obviously, he could have taken it. And the murder weapon was hidden in the wall of his house. Plus, there’s Mark’s suggesting that your father and Larisa might have restarted their affair, which might have led to a crime of passion.”
Beth shook her head. Her father having an affair with Larisa was something else she was having trouble coming to terms with.
Telling herself not to think about that for the moment, she said, “But you’re sounding as if the police might not believe it was Mark. How couldn’t they when we’ve got the journal now? And when Claire’s admitted she lied? Doesn’t that change the picture entirely?”
“It depends on how they view things. On whether they figure Mark actually read the journal and knew Larisa was planning to leave him. And whether they think there’s a good chance he really was at the library. At any rate, as far as your father’s concerned, they might keep him in custody at least until they get the DNA test results on the knife.”
“How long will that be?”
“Oh, probably five or six weeks.”
Beth closed her eyes, trying not to think about her father being in jail for another five or six weeks. Or, worse yet, Cole had said “at least.” And if the police had a serious case of tunnel vision…
“You know,” he continued, “I think I’ve finally figured out why your uncle seems so obsessed with Larisa’s memory.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “Guilt He’s never really come to terms with the fact that he murdered her, and he’s trying to make atonement.”
She forced a smile. “Maybe you should have been a psychiatrist.”
They didn’t talk much the rest of the way home, but after he’d parked outside her apartment, Cole said, “As soon as we go in, I’ll write up everything for the police. But once we give them my report and the journal, it’s up to them how they proceed. And how quickly.
“I…dammit, Beth, I guess here I go scaring you again, but even if your uncle is guilty, there’s no saying how long he’ll still be walking around free. And if they decide our evidence isn’t enough to prosecute on and they can’t turn up anything more, they won’t even charge him.”
Her throat was suddenly tight. “You are scaring me again. What if that happens? Would they keep on trying to railroad my father? And if Mark was free, I’d be left worrying forever, wouldn’t I?”
Cole rested his fingers against her cheek. “I’ve been thinking about that. And it seems to me that your having a long-term bodyguard would be a good idea.”
She gazed at him, trying to determine exactly what he was saying, afraid she was reading too much into his words. “I couldn’t afford one for very long term,” she said at last.
“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of a volunteer.” He gave her a to-die-for smile that sent even the worst of her worries scurrying into the darkest recesses of her mind.
“Were you thinking about any particular volunteer?” she murmured.
“What do you think?” he said, leaning closer to kiss her.
It was such a hot, hard, possessing kiss that she could feel every bone in her body melting.
“Why don’t we move this inside,” he finally whispered. “And I’ll leave writing things up until later.”
He took his gun out of the glove compartment and tucked it against the small of his back, slinging his suit jacket over his shoulder to conceal it when they got out of the car.
Once they’d headed into her building and the elevator door closed behind them, he began kissing her again. By the time they reached her apartment, all she could think about was making love.
They raced through her office, then she stopped in her tracks. Her mother was sitting in the living room, looking decidedly glassy-eyed, as if she’d taken more of her anxiety pills than was safe.
Cole froze beside Beth, gut instinct telling him there was a whole lot wrong with this picture—in addition to Angela’s looking spaced out And he knew his instinct was right when Beth said, “Mom? How did you get in? You don’t have a key.”
He nonchalantly tossed his jacket over a dining room chair, trying to look as if he didn’t think any-thing was wrong. But what the hell was the deal? Had his off-the-wall suspicions been right, after all? Had Angela killed Larisa?
He began praying that wasn’t it, because he didn’t know how Beth could handle it.
“I came to get Larisa’s journal. I—”
“Mom? How did you know I had it?”
Cole could feel his gun pressed against his back, and he couldn’t help thinking that Angela might have a weapon.
“Mark told me.”
“But how did he know?”
“That old neighbor.” Angela vaguely waved her hand. “Miss Boise or something. No, that’s not right. I’ll—”
“Angela?” Cole said quietly. “Her name’s not important. But tell us why you came for the journal.”
“Why…because Mark said Beth wanted him to pick it up. But she forgot to tell him exactly where it was. So he thought it would be better if I came and found it, because she might not want him rummaging through her apartment.”
“But how did you get a key?” Beth asked.
When Angela merely gazed at her blankly, she said, “Mom, I want you to go and lie down in the bedroom, okay?”
“No, I have to—”
“You don’t have to do anything. I think you took too many of your pills, and the best thing you can do is sleep for a while.”
“You’re sure that’s the best thing?” Cole said.
Beth nodded. “The first time we went through this, I called her doctor for advice. Come on,” she added, turning back to her mother.
“But I—”
“Come on.” She helped Angela up off the couch and led her into the bedroom.
A minute later, she came back out and closed the door. “I’m going to call her doctor again, the first chance I get. She shouldn’t have enough of those damn pills around to make her that woozy. She fell asleep the second her head hit the pillow.”
“Don’t blame her doctor,” Mark said from behind them. “And I’ve got a gun, so don’t either of you move,” he snapped as Cole started to turn.
A second later, he felt Mark taking his gun from his waistband.
“I gave her the pills,” Mark explained. “She showed up at my office, all upset, and I had to calm her down. Now, you two go sit on the couch.”
Once they had, Beth said, “Mark?”
She sounded scared to death.
“It was you who had a key to my apartment, wasn’t it?” she said. “How did you get it?”
“You have to ask? You, who has to carry spare keys because you’re always misplacing them? You left them at my apartment a while back, and I had them copied—just in case.”
“Just in case you wanted to come here and kill me?” she whispered “Have you always intended to kill me if I started to remember? Ever since I was a child? Is that why you stayed close to Mom and me all these years?”
“Beth, I never wanted to kill you.”
Cole resisted asking why, if that was true, he’d hired those shooters.
“I just brought your mother up here to find the journal,” Mark continued. “While I waited in the car and kept an eye out for you. And if she’d only been in here a few minutes, instead of half an hour…”
As Mark’s words trailed off, Cole eyed the good doctor, wondering if Beth was seeing what he was—not a
loving uncle but a man with such a cold, deadly look in his eyes that getting out of this alive might be an impossibility.
But it couldn’t be. He couldn’t lose Beth when he’d barely found her.
“Let’s go back to the point here,” Mark said. ‘‘Where’s the journal?”
“We don’t have the damn journal,” Cole said before Beth could reply.
“Don’t play games! Esther Voise told me the whole story. I was curious about what she’d said to you the other day, so I dropped by her house. I figured I’d tell her that you’d mentioned seeing her, and it had made me think about paying her a visit for old times’ sake.
“But it turned out I didn’t have to give her any explanation. She assumed I was there to thank her for helping you two get the journal for me. Now, where is it?”
“We’ve already given it to the police,” Cole said.
“Oh? Then I guess there’s no reason not to kill you both. Right now.”
“You’d never get away with it.”
“No? Given the shape Angela’s in, I think I will. I can make it look as if she killed you—then set fire to the place.”
Cole exhaled slowly, aware that just might work. Then, telling himself there was nothing to do but stall for time and pray for a miracle, he said, “If you’re going to kill us, why would we give you the journal? Even if we still had it?”
“All right…I guess there are a few ways we can play this. For starters, I could put a couple of bullets in Beth, and see if you’re still telling me the police already have it.”
Beth glanced at Cole, the taste of terror bitter in her mouth.
He muttered something under his breath, then said, “It’s in her office.”
“That’s better. Let’s go and get it”
“Can I ask you one question first?”
Mark hesitated, then said, “One.”
“Was it really worth murdering Larisa to keep her from leaving you?”
He slowly shook his head. “She wasn’t planning to just leave me. I had a lot of assets in her name—for tax purposes. And after I read the journal, I checked on them.
The Missing Hour Page 19