Judith put out her hand. “Thank you,” she mouthed,
and gave the orderly a grateful smile.
Pearson stood up and smiled back, then nodded at
Renie and left.
“Let’s see those questions,” Renie said, getting out
of bed.
“What do you think?” Judith asked after her cousin
had finished reading.
Renie’s face screwed up in concentration. “Corinne
threw out the containers belonging to Somosa and Fremont. So what?”
“Let’s call on Addison Kirby,” Judith said, attempt-298
Mary Daheim
ing to sit up on her own. To her astonishment, she managed it. “Hey, look at me! I’m just like a real person!”
“So you are,” Renie said with an encouraging smile.
“Don’t get too frisky. I’ll help you into the chair.”
A few minutes later, the cousins were at Addison’s
door. He turned and grinned, apparently glad to see
them.
“I’m so bored I could start tweezing my beard with
ice tongs,” he told them as they moved to the bedside.
“Since I don’t watch much TV except sports, all I can
do is read, and it seems the hospital library is woefully
lacking in sex-and-violence thrillers.”
“That’s probably because the nuns are reading
them,” Renie said, only half joking.
Addison chuckled, then turned a more serious face
to Judith. “I guess you never had a chance to ask your
husband about those chocolates. I heard he got himself
stabbed. How’s he doing?”
“Better,” Judith replied, “though I still haven’t seen
him. My— our—son is with him right now. As soon as
I hear from Mike—our son—I’ll try to see Joe. Right
now, I’ve got a couple of questions for you. They may
be painful.” She hesitated, then continued. “After
Joan’s death, when and where did you first see the
body?”
Addison looked surprised. “In her room. They
wouldn’t move her until I’d gotten here. I’d been covering a story downtown, and only found out she was
dead when I got here. I suppose it was at least an hour
after she . . . died.”
“Think hard,” Judith urged. “Was her wastebasket
empty?”
Addison Kirby gave Judith an odd glance, then
slowly nodded. “I know what you’re getting at. I re-SUTURE SELF
299
member, because my first, crazy reaction was that Joan
wasn’t wearing her wedding band. She never took it
off, not even onstage.” He held up his left hand, revealing an intricately carved gold ring that caught the
sunlight coming through the window. “We had these
specially made. The masks of tragedy and comedy are
entwined with a pen, to symbolize both our professions. My first thought was that the ring had been
stolen, but somehow that seemed unlikely at Good
Cheer. Then I wondered if it had fallen off and was on
the floor or under the wastebasket. I looked around and
saw that the wastebasket was empty. And then I remembered that Joan had left the ring at home, on the
hospital’s advice.” Addison’s face clouded over at the
memory.
“Empty,” Judith echoed. “That makes sense. Can you
tell me the exact date that your wife died? I want to be
very sure about this.”
“January sixth,” Addison replied promptly. “How
could I forget? We had the funeral last Saturday.”
Exuding sympathy, Judith nodded. “Do you remember exactly when Joaquin Somosa died?”
Addison gave Judith a crooked little smile. “Actually, I do. It was on my late father’s birthday, December nineteenth.”
“Good,” Judith said. “I mean, it’s good that you remember.”
Addison was eyeing her curiously. “You’re on to
something, aren’t you, Mrs. Flynn? Or should I call
you Miss Marple?”
Judith assumed a modest expression. “I don’t want
to elaborate because my theory is so far out that, along
with my hip, Dr. Alfonso may have replaced my brain
with a battery—a faulty one at that. And unlike Miss
300
Mary Daheim
Marple with her St. Mary Mead village eccentrics, I
don’t know anyone on Heraldsgate Hill who reminds
me of the possible suspect.”
Addison looked disappointed. “So I can’t ask who
it is?”
“Don’t feel bad,” Renie put in. “Sometimes, when
she really gets whacked out, she won’t even tell me
who she suspects.”
Addison grinned. “You aren’t going to tell me who
I should be wary of? Remember, I almost got killed out
there in front of the hospital.”
Coincidentally, Torchy Magee poked his head in the
door. “Mrs. Jones? That’s your Camry, all right. At
least it is if you live at this address I copied down.” He
recited the house and street number from a slip of
paper. “That yours?”
“It sure is,” Renie said with a big smile. “Thanks.
I’m relieved that the car is safe.”
Suddenly angry, Addison was staring at Renie.
“Your car was the one that hit me?”
“I’m afraid so,” Renie said. “Our Toyota Camry was
stolen from the dealership. I didn’t recognize it when I
saw it hit you because it looks like every other midsized sedan these days. Besides, I’m not used to looking down on it unless I’m on a ferry boat’s upper deck.”
Addison was frowning. “I don’t get it—somebody
stole your car and then hit me. Was it deliberate?”
Renie glanced at her cousin, who shrugged.
“Who?” Addison asked, still frowning.
“I’m not sure what his name is,” Judith replied, “but
he may be dead.”
As Judith rolled out of the room with Renie behind
her, Addison made a request.
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301
“Hey—you never told me who I should watch out
for.”
“I told you,” Judith said, over her shoulder. “The
man who hit you might be dead.”
“He was the man who killed my wife? For God’s
sake, I have to know that.”
“No,” Judith responded. “He didn’t kill your wife.
He didn’t kill anybody. I’m not entirely convinced that
your accident wasn’t just that—an accident.”
Addison wasn’t finished. “Am I in danger?”
“I don’t think so,” Judith said, “but it’s always prudent
to trust absolutely nobody in this kind of situation.”
“Not even you two?” Addison shot back.
“Not even us,” Judith replied. But she smiled.
Judith was intent on talking to Sister Jacqueline.
Heather Chinn thought that the hospital administrator
was in a meeting, probably something to do with the
Restoration Heartware takeover. But she promised to
convey the message to Sister Jacqueline.
“Meanwhile,” Judith said, “I’m going to see Joe.”
Renie made a face. “Are you sure you’re up to it?
That shower must have taken a lot out of you.”
“Of course I’m up to it,” Judith asserted, once again
sitting up on her own. This time she managed to swing
her legs around to the side of the bed, put her feet on
the floor, and start to stand up. “See? I can . . . Oops!”
Judith started to topple forward and caught herself on
the wheelchair.
“Good grief,” Renie muttered, hurrying as fast as
she could to help her cousin, “I warned you about
being too rash.”
“Okay, okay,” Judith grumbled, “let’s get out of