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He smiled in anticipation. Every detail was perfectly pla
Three hours later he delivered a healthy baby boy by cesarean section to Mrs. Delano Aldrich and accepted as his due the tearful gratitude of the patient and her husband.
CHAPTER NINE
AT EIGHT a.m. Thursday morning the Investigative Squad of the Homicide Division of Valley County pulled up to the Lewis home. The six-man team was headed by Phil Cu
According to the lab report, Vangie's fingerprints had been found on the tumbler that had been lying next to her. She had been right-handed. When she poured the cyanide crystals into the glass, it would have been natural for her to hold the glass with her left hand and pour with her right. Yet only her right prints were on the tumbler. This further discredited the suicide theory.
Every bottle in the medicine chest was opened, sniffed. But the bitter-almond scent they were looking for was not to be found.
The bedroom was carefully vacuumed in the hope of finding human hair. As Phil put it: "Any house can have hairs from delivery people, neighbors, anybody. We're all shedding hair all the time. But most people don't bring even good friends into the bedroom. So if you find human hair that doesn't belong to the people who sleep in the bedroom, you might have something."
Close attention was given to the shelves in the garage. The usual garden tools, hoses, insecticides and weed killer were there in abundance. Phil grunted in a
That flowered print. He'd seen it recently. It was the dress Vangie Lewis was wearing when she died.
He called the police photographer out to the garage. "Get a picture of that," he said, pointing to the tool. When the picture was taken, he removed the material and sealed it in an envelope.
In the house, Charley was going through the desk. When Phil came in, Charley said, "We've come up with a big zero. Wait a minute. They had an answering service. We'd better check it for messages."
He got the number of the answering service from a file in the desk, then dialed and identified himself. "Give me any messages left for either Captain or Mrs. Lewis starting with Monday."
Taking out his pen, he began to write: "Monday, February 15,
4:00 p.m. Northwest Orient reservations phoned. Mrs. Lewis is confirmed on Flight 235 at 4:10 p.m. from La Guardia Airport to Mi
Charley asked, "Did Mrs. Lewis receive that message?"
"Oh, yes," the operator said. "I gave it to her myself at about seven thirty Monday evening. She sounded very relieved." "All right," Charley said. "What else have you got?" "Also on Monday a Miss Edna Burns called at ten p.m. She wanted Mrs. Lewis to phone her no matter how late it was. But Mrs. Lewis never contacted us again that night."
There were no further messages on the service, but the operator knew a call had come through Tuesday evening and had been picked up by Captain Lewis. "I was just starting to answer when he came on," she explained. "I got right off."
Charley thanked the operator, then hung up the receiver and looked at Phil. "Let's go. Scott's going to want to hear about this."
"How do you read it?" Phil asked.
Charley snorted. "How else can I read it? As of seven thirty Monday evening Vangie Lewis was pla
FOR Katie, Wednesday night had seemed endless. She'd gone to bed as soon as she returned from Edna's apartment, first taking one of the pills Dr. Highley had given her. She'd awakened feeling vaguely troubled. Her grandmother's old black hat. Why was she thinking about that hat? Of course. Because of that shabby old shoe Edna obviously prized. But why just one shoe?
Grimacing, she got out of bed. The soreness throughout her body had intensified during the night. Hoping that a hot bath might soak some of the achiness away, she went into the bathroom and turned on the taps in the tub. A wave of dizziness made her sway, and she grabbed the side of the tub to keep from falling. The bathroom mirror revealed the deathly pallor of her skin. It's this bleeding, she thought. If I weren't going into the hospital tomorrow night, I'd probably end up being carried in.
The bath did reduce some of the stiffness, and foundation makeup minimized the paleness. With her orange juice Katie swallowed another of Dr. Highley's pills. Then she grabbed a coat and her handbag and went out to the car.
Charley and Phil were searching the Lewis house this morning. Scott was drawing a web around Chris Lewis. If only she could find another avenue to explore before Chris was indicted.
She arrived at the office just before eight and found Maureen Crowley already there. "Maureen," Katie said, "I've got a job. Could you come in when you have a minute?"
The girl got up quickly. She had a narrow-waisted, graceful-young body. The green sweater she was wearing accentuated the vivid green of her eyes. "How about coffee, Katie?"
"Great. But no ham on rye-at least not yet." Maureen looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry I said that yesterday. You, of all people, are not in a rut."
"I'm not sure about that." Katie hung up her coat and settled down with her notebook. Maureen brought in the coffee, pulled up a chair and waited silently, her steno pad on her lap.
Katie said slowly, "We're not satisfied that the Vangie Lewis death is a suicide. Yesterday I talked with her doctors, Dr. Highley and Dr. Fukhito, at Westlake Hospital."
She heard a sharp intake of breath and looked up quickly. The girl's face had gone dead white.
"Maureen, is anything the matter?"
"No. No. I'm sorry."
Unconvinced, Katie looked back at her notes. "As far as we know, Dr. Fukhito was the last person to see Vangie Lewis alive. I want to find out as much as I can about him. Find out where he came from, where he went to school, other hospitals he's been co
"You don't want me to talk to anyone at Westlake Hospital?"
"No. I don't want them to know we're checking on him."
For some reason the younger woman seemed relieved. "I'll get right on it." "You'd be a good lawyer," Katie said, meaning it. "I'm surprised you didn't go to college." "I was insane enough to get engaged the summer I finished high school. My folks persuaded me to take a secretarial course before I got married so at least I'd have some kind of skill. How right they were. The engagement didn't stand the year's wait."
She looked unhappy, and Katie decided she must have been pretty hurt about the breakup.
Maureen went out of the room. The telephone rang. It was Richard. "Katie, I've just been talking to Dave Broad, the head of prenatal research at Mount Sinai. On a hunch, I sent him the fetus Vangie Lewis was carrying. My hunch was right. Vangie was not pregnant with Lewis' child. The baby was distinctly Oriental!"