as big a mess as everybody claims, how did he get so
high on the recipient list?”
“I don’t know how to answer that,” Judith admitted,
also staring at the three mounds of multicolored food
on her plate. “I think these are salads, by the way.”
“Like Donner & Blitzen Department Store has in
their tearoom?” Renie said. “Those salads are really
good. My favorite is the one with shrimp.”
Judith sampled a bite from the mound that was primarily white. “This could be potato salad.”
SUTURE SELF
293
Renie followed her cousin’s lead. “It could also be
library paste. Oddly, I used to like library paste when I
was a kid. Sometimes I’d ask to be kept in for recess
just so I could be alone and eat the paste.”
“You also ate erasers, as I recall,” Judith said, trying
the mostly green salad next. “If you could eat stuff that
really wasn’t edible, why can’t you eat hospital food?”
She swallowed the mouthful of green and let out a startled cry. “Mrrff! That’s not very good.” Judith choked
twice before she could get whatever it was down into
her digestive tract.
“I refuse to try the red stuff,” Renie declared. “I’m
sure it has tomato aspic in it. I hate tomato aspic. These
so-called salads should be taken out and shot. Maybe
they’re wholesome, possibly even nutritious, but to
me, they’re an insult. I’m personally offended by being
forced to consider this ersatz meal as food.”
Judith gazed inquiringly at Renie. “For once, I almost wish you’d say all that nonsense again.”
“Huh?” Renie looked surprised.
“I think,” Judith said deliberately, “you may have
just enlightened me as to the killer’s identity.”
NINETEEN
RENIE WAS AMAZED by Judith’s theory. She was even
more astonished by the alleged motive. “What,” she
asked in an awestruck voice, “are you going to do
about it? You have absolutely no evidence.”
“That’s the problem,” Judith said, looking worried. “Not to mention that the whole thing’s so crazy
I can’t be absolutely sure. If only Joe had seen who
attacked him.”
“DNA,” Renie put in. “There’s got to be some
trace of the killer in our car.”
“That doesn’t prove that person was the killer,”
Judith pointed out.
“You’re right.” Renie scowled at the salad
mounds on her plate, then dumped them in the
wastebasket. “I’m thinking, honest.”
Judith set the luncheon tray aside and picked up
the phone. “I’m not going to eat this slop, so I’ll call
Woody instead.”
Woody was about to leave for the hospital to see
Joe. Although he tried to sound enthusiastic about
Judith’s idea, a note of skepticism lingered in his
mellow voice. “I’ll certainly have the Joneses’
Camry checked out. Don’t let Bill drive it anywhere
until we’ve finished.”
SUTURE SELF
295
Judith passed the message along to Renie. “That’s
fine,” Renie said in a doleful tone. “Bill’s probably
frozen into a grape-flavored Popsicle by now anyway.”
“It’s above freezing,” Judith pointed out, “or it
wouldn’t be thawing so much.”
The silent orderly came in to remove the cousins’
trays. As usual, he made no comment, not even when
he saw that Judith’s lunch was virtually untouched and
Renie’s was lying in the wastebasket. For the first time,
Judith noticed that his name tag read “Pearson.” Assuming it was his surname, she called out to him as he
started to leave.
“Mr. Pearson?”
Even though he wasn’t through the door, the orderly
didn’t stop.
“That’s rude,” Judith declared as Heather Chinn entered the room, seeking vital signs. “Say,” she addressed the nurse, “why won’t that orderly, Mr.
Pearson, talk to me? Does he disapprove of us?”
Heather gave Judith a gentle smile. “Pearson is his
first name, and he’s a deaf-mute.”
“Oh!” Judith reddened with embarrassment. “I feel
terrible!”
“Don’t,” Heather said, applying the blood pressure
cuff. “You couldn’t know.”
“I’d still like to talk to him,” Judith said. “I mean,
exchange written notes. To let him know we appreciate
his work. Could you ask him to drop by when he has
the time?”
Heather looked wary, but agreed. “I know how to
sign,” she offered. “Would you like to have me join
you?”
Judith started to accept, then politely declined. “I
don’t want to take up your valuable time. I also wanted
296
Mary Daheim
to ask him a couple of questions about . . . how we might
be able to get some other kind of food. My cousin hasn’t
been able to eat some of the last few meals.”
“Oh.” Heather looked dubious. “I’m not sure Pearson
could help you. That’s something that should be taken
up with the dietician.”
“Let Mrs. Flynn do it her way,” Renie broke in. “I
trust her. She knows my needs.”
Apparently, Heather wished to avoid arguing with
the cousins. “All right,” she said, putting the thermometer in Judith’s mouth.
A quarter of an hour passed before Pearson reappeared. He wore a curious expression and tugged at the
ear that bore the gold stud.
Judith had already written her questions on a piece
of paper. Giving Pearson a big smile, she handed him
the single page. “No rush.” She formed the words as
emphatically as possible.
Pearson sat down in the visitor’s chair, carefully
reading the questions. He scratched his shaved head
and frowned. Judith handed him a ballpoint pen. With
a quizzical glance, Pearson began to write down his
answers.
1. Were you on duty when any of these persons
died—Joaquin Somosa, Joan Fremont, Bob
Randall? Yes.
2. Which ones, if any? All of them.
3. If you were, do you recall seeing such items as
a take-out juice cup in Somosa’s room, one or
two plastic Italian soda glasses in Fremont’s
room, and a pint of Wild Turkey in Randall’s
room? Yes, all of them, vaguely.
4. If so, what happened to the containers?
SUTURE SELF
297
At the fourth and last question, Pearson looked
flummoxed. He started to give Judith a palms-up signal, but stopped abruptly.
“Nurse Appleby removed S’s and F’s drink contain-
ers,” he wrote, and gave Judith a diffident grin. Then
he formed a single word: “Why?”
Judith wasn’t sure what he meant. “Why do I ask?”
she wrote. Pearson nodded. “Because I’m trying to
help my husband, who has been stabbed.” Pearson
looked bewildered. Judith added another note. “His
stabbing may be connected with the deaths of S, F, and
R.” The orderly grimaced. Judith scribbled another
question.
“What about R’s liquor bottle?”
Pearson shook his head and shrugged.
Judith held up one finger to indicate she had yet another query. “What did Appleby do with the juice and
soda containers?”
Pearson pointed to Judith’s wastebasket, then held up
two fingers.
“Both?” Judith formed the word carefully.
Pearson nodded again.