Read Do You Want to Know a Secret? Online
Authors: Mary Jane Clark
Do You Want to Know a Secret? (49 page)
On his way back upstairs, Detective Colburn stopped to check the homeless man’s personal effects.
“Pathetic,” said the property sergeant. “The poor guy’s whole life wrapped up in a couple of lousy garbage bags.” He gestured to the black plastic lawn bags piled next to the wall.
“Anything in them?”
“Take a look for yourself.”
Colburn let out a low whistle as he surveyed the booty. A zoo’s worth of brass animal doorknockers, plus four cans of spray paint. . . .
“Four cans of spray paint, old clothes, a blanket, a ratty old pillow, a pot and a frying pan, a couple books, a cardboard container of half-eaten Chinese food and a package of noodles. God knows what garbage can he picked those out of. And a few old programs from the Guggenheim.”
Colburn pictured the bedraggled homeless man stooping down to pick up the discarded programs in front of the beautiful, smooth white building.
There was also a small silver key ring.
The detective turned the key ring over in his hands. It was a loop with a small ball attached to the end that could be screwed on and off to accommodate added or subtracted keys. Two keys and a tag, slightly larger than a quarter, hung from the loop. “Sterling” was stamped in tiny letters at the bottom of the tag. On the other side, Colburn read the inscription “Please return to Tiffany & Co., New York.” Beneath that was a registration number. Colburn wrote it down.
He returned to his desk and his now lukewarm coffee. He was about to call Tiffany’s when he got a call to go to a robbery scene at a luxury high-rise on East Seventy-ninth Street.
Tiffany’s would have to wait.
“Do you have
a heart condition?”
In an examining room at Twelve Oaks Hospital, Eliza stared back quizzically at Randi Hagerman. “A heart condition? What do you mean, a heart condition?”
“Are you taking any heart medication, like digitalis or digoxin?”
“No, of course not. My heart is fine. I’m fine. What are you talking about?”
Dr. Hagerman held the electrocardiogram record for Eliza to examine. “See this pattern here?” She pointed. “The one that looks like a hockey stick repeated over and over?”
Eliza nodded.
“Well, that and the facts of the vomiting and the yellow vision, taken together, indicate that you may have had too much digitalis. Digitalis is a common medication for congestive heart failure.”
“Digitalis?” Eliza was incredulous. “I’ve never taken digitalis in my life! And I’m as healthy as a horse . . . or I was until a few hours ago.”
Eliza thought back to last night. She’d eaten that blackened redfish at the reception.
“Are you sure this isn’t food poisoning?”
Dr. Hagerman shook her head. “Food poisoning would cause the vomiting. It wouldn’t make you see yellow or make your heart beat the way it did when you took this test. Are you sure you didn’t take any medication? Maybe someone else’s medication by mistake?”
“The only thing I took last night was Fiorinal before I went to bed.”
“Do you have the rest of the bottle?”
“It’s in the wastebasket at the hotel. That was the last of it. I cursed myself for not bringing more with me.” Eliza paused, recalling the night before. “In fact, I remember being surprised that it was the end of the bottle. I thought I had more left than that.”
Someone wanted to
kill her!
Who? Even Mack, usually so calm and steady, was crazed.
Eliza felt panicked. Why would someone want me out of the way? She remembered the scene at the party last night. Wingard, Heller and Judge Quinn.
Get right back into the saddle again, Eliza told herself as she dressed slowly. As she maneuvered her aching legs into her hose, she cursed the fact that her legs weren’t tanned enough to go bare. Carefully sliding into a red linen skirt, she wondered how she was going to make it through all the hours to come on the convention floor.
From the hospital, she had called home to check on Janie and to suggest to Mrs. Twomey that she permit the little girl to stay up for the start of the convention coverage tonight. She wanted Janie to see her and know that her mommy was all right and at work as usual.
Dr. Hagerman’s words echoed through her mind. Any more of the digitalis in her bloodstream could have killed her. She could not allow herself to think of the near miss in terms of her daughter. The idea of a motherless, parentless Janie shut her down and she had to do her job. There would be enough time next week, at the beach, to let go. Now, Eliza had to concentrate on surviving the convention.
The phone rang loudly in the quiet hotel room. It was Yelena Gregory.
“How are you holding up?”
“About the same as I was an hour ago when you called. I’m fine, Yelena, just fine. A little spent maybe, but I should be okay.”
“Thank God for that.” There was a short pause. “Eliza, I want to have some security men assigned to you tonight.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I think it is. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something else happened. If someone deliberately tried to poison you, you must have protection. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Yelena, if something else happens, I doubt it would be on the convention floor. You know the security, the metal detectors that have to be gotten through to get into the Astrodome, the Secret Service, the police. Unless whoever wants to get me wants to be caught, he isn’t going to do anything at the convention.”
Yelena relented slightly. “All right, but I sure as hell want you to have a bodyguard outside, the rest of the time we are in Houston.”
Eliza considered Yelena’s words. She felt safe inside the Astro complex with thousands of delegates and journalists milling around. She’d be distracted and feel ridiculous with bodyguards hovering around while she worked. But maybe an escort going back and forth from the hotel to the convention would be a smart idea.
“Okay, Yelena.”
“Good. Have you been out of your room yet?”
“No.”
“Well, there’s a guard outside your door right now. He’ll drive you to the Astrodome.”
The highlight of
the evening was the speech Joy Wingard gave on the AIDS Parade for Dollars. Joy asked the American people to continue their grass roots efforts to eradicate the deadly disease. She paraphrased a JFK statement—or was it FDR?—saying that much could be told about a country by how it treated the weakest of its citizens. She called for patriotism and determination in conquering the scourge that was sapping the whole country. It was a compassionate and moving address. Thousands on the convention floor gave her a standing ovation.
When the gavel came down for the night, Eliza met her bodyguard. He drove her directly back to the hotel, positioning himself outside her door.
Mack called, offering to come over.
“Thanks, Mack, but I really am exhausted and I have to be up in just a couple of hours. I just want to crash. I feel secure with the guard outside.”
“Okay, but remember, I’m just a phone call away.”
“How could I forget, sweetheart?”
Eliza undressed and got into bed quickly but she did not sleep soundly.
Five hours later, another bodyguard drove Eliza back along dark Highway 610, the city loop, to the Astrodome for her
KEY to America
duties.
Her dream last night was nagging at her. It started out the same way as the dream she’d had the night Bill died. Pete Carlson was pursuing Bill down a long hallway and Eliza was trying to warn Bill of something. But this time, Pete Carlson changed into a big, greasy black rodent with tiny eyes and fierce front teeth. Yelena Gregory then appeared. She was petting the slick fur of the ratty animal. The rodent began sniffing around at Yelena’s feet. Suddenly, Eliza heard Janie calling out to her, “Mommy, Mommy,” but Eliza had not been able to move. She could not get to her daughter. She was paralyzed, transfixed by a large, black mole on Janie’s face.
