Sibs

by F. Paul Wilson

  ▼

  "You can go, too," Kara told Rob as he closed the door behind Ed.

  He turned and stared at her. She was still standing by the table, looking as if she was going to come apart. He couldn't leave her like this.

  "Can I finish my drink first?"

  "Sure."

  He slipped into his chair again and took a small sip. He'd have to nurse this one. Finally, Kara slumped back into her own chair. She ignored her drink and stared at the wall.

  "What's wrong, Kara?"

  "Nothing."

  "Want to talk about it?"

  "No."

  He rattled the ice in his glass. "You didn't ask me over here just to tell me that Kelly had a multiple personality. You could have told me that on the phone. If you want to talk, I'll listen. If you need a friend, I'm here."

  Kara continued to stare at the wall, but Rob noticed tears gathering in her eyes. She spoke without looking at him, and her voice was so full of pain that he felt his own throat begin to constrict.

  "He says our father molested us as children."

  Rob was numb for a moment. He'd never met Kara's father. He died before she came to New York.

  "Good Lord, is that… is that true?"

  "No!" she said through her teeth. "Never!"

  "Then what's the problem?"

  Kara went through her conversation with Dr. Gates almost word by word. Rob listened with growing alarm, piecing together the picture, sensing what was coming and not wanting to hear it.

  Finally, toward the end, Kara seemed to run out of steam. To spare her further torture, Rob finished it for her.

  "So you're afraid you might have a second personality, too, this 'Janine,' hiding inside of you."

  Kara shrugged. "Yes and no. I know Ingrid was lying about my father, I just know it! But do I know it? I don't know what I really know anymore! Am I talking complete nonsense or does any of that make sense to you?"

  Rob reached out and put his hands over hers. She didn't pull it away.

  "It makes sense. I just don't know how to help you. I wish I did."

  She got up and walked past him. A few steps and she was in the living room. Rob turned in his chair to watch her as she sat on the sofa with her hands clamped between her knees.

  "I've got to know, Rob. I can't go through the rest of my life not knowing. I'm a mother. For Jill's sake, if not my own. I've got to know if I'm okay inside. I mean, am I all one piece or is there a time bomb named 'Janine' ticking away in my head? I've got to know!"

  She looked so miserable, so tortured. Rob went over and sat next to her.

  "What about hypnotism? Didn't Gates say that's how he found this Ingrid inside of Kelly?"

  She nodded. "Yes, but…"

  Rob waited.

  "Rob, I'm so scared!" she said.

  Instinctively, he slipped his arms around Kara and pulled her against him. She buried her face against his shoulder. Her voice was muffled.

  "I've got to know, but I want it to come out all right. I mean, what if Ingrid was telling the truth? God, what if there is a Janine inside of me?"

  "Don't you think you'd know?"

  "Kelly never knew until Gates discovered her other side. What'll I do?"

  Rob thought about that. He tried to put himself in her place. What would be best for her?

  "I look at it this way," he said slowly. "If you take a chance and it turns out something's there, it'll be painful, painful as all hell, but at least you'll know where you stand and you can start dealing with it. The way it is now, you're nowhere. And you'll remain nowhere until you have some facts to steer by."

  "Will you come with me?" she said after a long pause.

  That sounded as if she'd made up her mind.

  "Of course."

  "I mean, will you sit there with me while I get hypnotized?"

  A shiver darted through Rob. That could be an eerie scene if there really was another personality inside Kara. But he realized that he wanted to know too.

  "I guess so. If he allows it."

  She lifted her head but remained leaning against him.

  "Oh, he'll allow it, or I'll find someone else!"

  "You don't trust him?"

  "I don't know him well enough yet to let him get me alone in a room and hypnotize me and then later tell me what I said and did! Uh-uh!"

  "I hear you. I'll be there."

  "Thanks, Rob. Do you think you could drop me at Ellen's? Jill and I are staying there."

  "Sure."

  They sat in silence for a while. When Rob glanced at Kara, he saw that she was sleeping. For the first time since he had seen her last week, her face looked relaxed, free of grief and trouble. The way it should be.

  He slipped his arm from around her and eased her head down onto one of the throw cushions, then he lifted her legs and stretched her out on the sofa. Her sweater slipped up in the process, revealing a band of smooth white skin above the waist of her slacks. Rob felt a surge of desire, an urge to slip his hand under that sweater and cup one of her breasts. He remembered Kara's breasts, their perfect size, the rosy nipples, how he'd fondled and kissed them and—

  This was no good. He turned away and hunted up a blanket. He threw it over her and then retreated to the kitchen where he smoked a badly needed cigarette. He looked up Ellen's number in Kelly's phone list and called her to explain the situation. The older woman seemed to understand and said she'd tell Jill.

  Rob decided to stay the night. He didn't want Kara to wake up alone in this place.

  So smug. The swine is so sickeningly smug. He's set his little trap. He sees her falling into it, see the jaws snapping closed, all in slow motion. He's enjoying this so much that he's dropped his customary insufferable impatience and is taking his time to savor the stalking.

  Only a matter of time, he thinks. So supremely confident.

  Makes me want to retch.

  Such a terrible injustice that he should be able to continue on as he does, unchallenged, unsuspected. Someone should do something. If only someone could. The situation cries out to heaven for rectification.

  You'd think God would have had enough by now, would step in and squash him for what he has done to me and to others, crush him for becoming such an abomination.

  Deus ex machina!

  Please!

  But this isn't Greek drama. This is real life, if anyone would dare call what I have a life. Being dead would be better.

  No way to stop him, but must be some way to hinder him, or at the very least, harass him.

  Yes. Harass. I should try. Worry his heels, the rotten swine. He'd no right to punish me like that when I laughed at him. Wasn't fair. None of this is fair, but that went beyond his usual mean spiritedness.

  Cruel. He's so cruel to me.

  I wonder… wonder if it's possible to strike back?

  Have to think on that. After all, I've got plenty of time to think. All the time in the world.

  February 12

  6:45

  The day started off with a shock.

  Kara opened her eyes in the early morning light and didn't know where she was. Lying on a lumpy sofa in a strange room. With this splitting headache, starting at the temples and radiating forward and backward to her eyes and neck. The room smelled of stale cigarette smoke, and echoing through it was this deep, coarse, terrifying noise. Despite the pain it cost her, she lifted her head and looked around.

  A man is sitting in a chair nearby.

  Not sitting, actually—sprawled was more like it. Head lolled back, legs splayed, arms akimbo over the sides of the chair. For a moment she thought he was dead, then she realized that he was the source of the awful noise. Snoring. Rattling the windows, as the old saying went.

  And then she recognized him.

  "Rob?"

  What was he doing here in—?

  Suddenly she remembered last night. That fellow Ed had been here. She had told them both what Dr. Gates had said about Kelly. Why? Why had she done that? And why had
she drunk so much?

  Rob bolted upright in his chair, rubbing his face, mumbling sleepily into the dimness.

  "It's okay, Kara. I'm here. I'm right here."

  Kara gently eased her throbbing, spinning head back down onto the sofa cushion. She felt under the blanket. She was still dressed, her clothes still buttoned and zippered up tight. Rob hadn't touched her. But of course, he wouldn't have. The world's last knight in shining armor had sat up all night watching over her.

  Kara groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. What was she going to owe him for this?

  ▼

  "Sure you're not hungry?"

  Kara nodded silently and took another tiny sip of her instant coffee.

  "Really sure? There's eggs in the fridge. They still look good. I could whip up a cheese omelette before I go. Nothing to it."

  Kara held up her hand for him to cease and desist. She had forgotten what a relentlessly cheery morning person Rob was. Now it was all coming back to her. Even when their relationship had been at its closest it was the one thing about him that had annoyed her the most. Apparently he hadn't changed. He'd spent all night in a chair and here he was bouncing around at the crack of dawn offering to make breakfast for her.

  "No. Thanks. I'm sure. Please. Go. You'll be late."

  "Okay. Let me know when you set things up with Gates. Try to make it after five."

  "Okay." She looked up at him. "Thanks, Rob. You didn't have to stay last night, but I appreciate it."

  "What are friends for?"

  "Are we still friends? After all that's happened?"

  He shrugged. "It took me a good while to accept the fact that we just weren't meant to live happily ever after, but that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you. Why? Did you stop caring about me?"

  Kara shook her head slowly. "No. That's why I wouldn't speak to you anymore back then." Well, that's part of the reason. "I knew we couldn't work out, but I was afraid I'd change my mind if I saw you again."

  His smile was small and sad. "I was hoping you'd say something like that. Maybe we can relax a little more with each other."

  I wish I could, Rob. But I can't.

  "Sure. That'd be nice. And thanks again for standing guard last night. I owe you."

  He grimaced and rotated a kink out of his back.

  "Yeah. You do. And you can show your gratitude by letting me cook you dinner before you go."

  Despite the pain in her head, she laughed. Memories of the awful concoctions he used to whip up threatened the delicate state of her stomach.

  "Oh, Rob—"

  "No, I'm serious. I've gotten better. I'm actually pretty good now. Please. It'll mean a lot to me, and you'll enjoy it. I promise."

  She looked at him closely. It really did seem to mean a lot to him.

  "Okay."

  He beamed and stuck out a hand. "It's a deal?"

  "Deal," she said and shook his hand.

  He waved and headed for the door, pulling a cigarette pack, from his pocket. And whistling, no less.

  ▼

  4:42 P.M.

  Rob sat in Doc Winters' tiny, rickety waiting room and glanced at his watch. Getting close to five. He was supposed to meet Kara soon, but first he wanted to talk to Doc Winters. He was one of the department shrinks. He treated the cops when they needed it and he was also available for consultation when they thought they had a psycho on the loose.

  But right now Rob wanted to find out what Doc Winters knew about a fellow shrink named Lawrence Gates, M.D.

  Rob had taken an instant disliking to Gates yesterday, and now that he knew Gates might be putting Kara under hypnosis this afternoon, he wanted the skinny on him. He'd run a check—no criminal record, no complaints lodged with the State Board of Medical Examiners, not even an outstanding parking ticket. Clean. But so what? Pre-med at NYU, graduate of Flower Fifth Medical School, psychiatric residency at Downstate Medical Center in Brooklyn. Fine. At least he was well trained. But what Rob really wanted to know he couldn't get from an AMA register or a CV. He needed someone who knew the guy.

  Doc Winters said he knew him.

  Rob could have asked about Gates over the phone but he wanted to be with Winters, wanted to watch him when he answered. These shrinks were like a secret society, never wanting to say anything bad about each other in public. If he could get in front of Doc Winters, Rob knew he could tell if he was hedging.

  The door opened and Rob recognized Bobby Kurtzman coming out. He nodded once to Rob and hurried off. Rob shook his head. Poor Kurtzman. He'd shot a kid he'd thought was armed. Turned out he wasn't. The kid recovered and was fine now. Kurtzman would probably never be the same.

  Inside, Rob found Doc Winters, a white-haired, heavy-set man of about sixty. He wore a bulging white shirt and gray suit pants. The suit jacket was nowhere to be seen. His office was cramped, and his desk was piled high with papers, journals, correspondence, patient files.

  Although Rob had met him a few times before, he introduced himself anyway.

  "Sure, Harris. I remember you. You called me about Larry Gates, didn't you?"

  "Right."

  "Is he in trouble?"

  "Should he be?"

  "Don't play wise with me, detective."

  Rob realized that remark had not been a good choice. He'd forgotten that Doc Winters tended to be a crusty old fart.

  "Sorry. I just want a personal opinion of the man. He'll be treating a friend of mine and I just want to know if he's the right man for the job."

  "What's your friend's problem?"

  "Don't know yet. Might be a multiple personality."

  Doc Winters' eyebrows shot up. "Really! Don't come across them too often. But she couldn't be in better hands."

  "How'd you know she's a she?"

  "Nine out of ten multiple personalities are female. Larry's an expert on them. He was on my service as a resident for a while when I had a post at Downstate. Brilliant guy. From day one he's had a special interest in multiple personalities. He's done a few papers on them. Good stuff."

  Doc Winters seemed genuinely enthusiastic about Gates. Rob was encouraged.

  "Okay," Rob said, extending his hand. "I guess she's with the right man then. Thanks a lot."

  "He's Hungarian, you know," the doc said as Rob turned to leave. "An immigrant. Real name is… let me think." He tapped a pencil against his jaw. "Ah! Gati. Lazlo Gati. Had it changed when he was in pre-med, I believe. Worked real hard to lose his accent. Did a damn good job, too. Said he was an American now and wanted to be accepted as one. Have to admire a man with that kind of determination."

  "I guess you do," Rob said.

  "Doesn't even have to practice. I understand he's rich as Creosus since his sister died in West Virginia a few years ago, but he still keeps going. A dedicated guy—"

  "Thanks again, doc."

  Lazlo Gati, Rob thought as he hurried for his car. He'd have to see what he could learn about Lazlo Gati.

  ▼

  Kara waited for Rob.

  She stood in the cold outside the Karmer Medical Arts Building where Dr. Gates had his office and breathed the fumes from the traffic crawling downtown along Seventh Avenue. She could have waited in the lobby where it was warmer but a vague apprehension prevented her from entering the building alone.

  She'd left a message for Rob in the detective squad room at the precinct house and on the answering machine at the home phone number he had given her. She didn't know if he'd received it, but she did know she was not going in to see Dr. Gates alone.

  Kara had contacted Dr. Gates' office this morning and told the receptionist that she had to speak to him. He had called back twenty minutes later and said he could see her briefly at lunch. She'd said she needed more time. He agreed to see her after today's hours, around five-fifteen.

  She glanced at her watch: 5:14.

  Just then a dirty, nondescript sedan pulled into the curb and parked under the red and white NO PARKING—TOW AWAY ZONE sign. Rob hopped out, wearing a sport coat
, an open shirt, and no overcoat. He smiled.

  "Made it!"