the badger symbol off. John got the expensive dog
food, Paul got the cheaper kind. I made a bed for John
in the bottom drawer of my desk. I put Paul in a cardboard box. John drank Evian water; Paul had to make
do with water from the tap. Sure enough, after twentyfour hours, John started to become spoiled, while Paul
sulked. Then, this morning, when I gave John a leftover rib-steak bone, Paul pounced on him. The experiment proved what I thought would be true. Even
nonhuman siblings can suffer resentment and lack of
self-esteem when one of them gets preferred treatment
over the other. They can also exhibit hostility and aggression.”
Judith stared at Renie. “What do you think?”
Renie glanced at Bill. “I think my husband’s right.
As usual.”
Judith turned to Mike. “Go upstairs and get Woody.
The time has come to call in a consulting police detective.”
Sister Jacqueline telephoned a few minutes later.
The nun still sounded dubious about revealing the information Judith had requested, but when she finally
did, another piece of the puzzle fell into place. Feeling
as if she had a solid grip on the solution to the murders,
Judith smiled grimly.
Mike and Woody had their own way of making Ju-SUTURE SELF
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dith smile. When they entered the ward fifteen minutes later, they were pushing a wheelchair. Joe Flynn
offered his wife a feeble, though fond, grin.
“Joe!” Judith cried. In her excitement, she instinctively leaned forward to touch him, then screamed and
doubled over in pain. “Oh, my God!” she cried through
her misery. “I think I’ve dislocated my hip!”
TWENTY
JUDITH LET OUT a terrible cry of anguish. Joe tried to
reach out to help his wife, but weakness overcame
him. It was Mike who rushed to his mother’s side as
she moaned in pain.
“Mom!” He attempted to move her into a sitting
position, but she resisted.
“I can’t move!” she gasped through tears. “Get a
nurse! A doctor!”
Corinne Appleby and Heather Chinn both
showed up almost immediately. Then, in a haze of
agony, Judith saw Pearson, the orderly, arrive with a
gurney. Though the slightest movement was agonizing, she endured being moved onto the gurney,
rushed down the hall and into the elevator, which
obviously had been repaired, and hustled to a room
with bright lights. Staff members she’d never seen
before were at the ready.
Despite a fresh dose of painkillers, the next half
hour was a nightmare. At last, after X rays had been
taken and Dr. Alfonso had arrived, her self-diagnosis
was confirmed: She had indeed dislocated the new hip.
It would take only a couple of minutes to put it back,
but Judith would have to be virtually unconscious during the procedure. She welcomed the oblivion.
SUTURE SELF
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An hour later, Judith awoke in her own bed on the
third floor. Through a haze, she saw the same people
who had been there when disaster had struck.
“Joe . . .” she murmured.
“I’m here, Jude-girl,” he said, taking her hand.
“So cunning, so cruel . . .” she mumbled.
Joe looked at Renie, who was sitting in Judith’s visitor’s chair. “Does that mean me? ” he asked with a
worried expression.
Renie, however, shook her head.
“Threes . . .” Judith murmured, squeezing her eyes
shut against the bright, setting sun. “Everything in
threes . . . Three lives saved . . . three patients dead . . .
three homeless men stabbed . . . three inedible salads . . .”
“Salads?” Joe looked at Bill.
Bill shrugged.
“Is she delirious?” Woody whispered.
“Must be,” Joe muttered. “My poor little girl.”
“Planned in advance . . . Surgical instruments
stolen . . . Should have guessed . . . to kill homeless . . .
Poor souls, set up with bribes to provide iron-clad alibis and drive car . . . Bill and Renie’s car . . . stolen because the snow starting, couldn’t get to usual
vehicle . . .”
Renie glanced at Bill. “Poor Cammy,” she sighed.
Joe shot both the Joneses a quizzical look. “Your
Toyota?”
Bill nodded.
“Who’s Cammy?” Woody asked.
“Uncle Bill and Aunt Renie’s car,” Mike said
under his breath.
Woody looked befuddled.
“So sad, those homeless men . . .” Judith made a fee-310
Mary Daheim
ble attempt to squeeze Joe’s hand. He made a feeble attempt to squeeze back. “Had to die, couldn’t be trusted
not to tell . . . Only organ donors need apply . . .”
“What?” Joe leaned closer to his wife. “Jude-girl,
what the hell are you talking about?”
“Definitely delirious,” Woody murmured. “Maybe I
should come back later.”
“No, please . . .” Judith opened her eyes and gazed
compellingly at Woody.
Woody stayed.
“So many odd little things . . .” Judith tried to sit up,
failed, and pointed to the water container on the nightstand. Mike filled a glass and handed it to her.
“Thirsty,” she said with a small smile of thanks. “After
surgery, fluids so important . . . Everybody must drink,
drink, drink . . . Why not put street drugs into IVs?
Simple, if you know how . . . not so simple if you
don’t . . . Everybody must drink, any fluids, all fluids . . . exotic juice, Italian sodas, booze . . . Just keep
pouring it down . . .” She paused to take another sip of
water. “The Chihuahuas, one in a tuxedo, one in a
sweatsuit . . . They clinched it.”
“I’m afraid,” Joe said, a note of alarm in his voice,
“that whatever they gave her when they put her hip
back in has fried her brain. Do you think we should
send for a psychologist?”
“I am a psychologist,” Bill reminded Joe. “She’s not
crazy. I think I know what she’s trying to say.”
Joe glanced at Archie, cheerfully smiling on Renie’s
nightstand, then gave both the Joneses a look that indicated he wasn’t convinced of their sanity, either. “O-oo-kay,” he said under his breath.
“All those years of being the opposite,” Judith said,
her eyes wide open and almost in focus, “of feeling in-SUTURE SELF
311
ferior, of being a mirror twin, of suffering near blindness . . . That’s why Jim Randall killed his brother, and
several innocent victims along the way.”
The golden light from the fading winter sun bathed
the room in a tattered antique splendor. With the dark
wood, the wavery window glass, and the religious statues, Judith could almost believe she was in a nineteenthcentury hospital, where only gaslights and candles
provided illumination. The Demerol was working, and
so was her brain. A wondrous calm came over her as
she saw some of the people she loved most standing or
sitting around her bed. Then her gaze traveled from Joe
to Mike, and a surge of panic filled her. But she had
made her resolution to tell the truth. Not quite yet, but
later, maybe when she was home again.
“Jim Randall!” Woody exclaimed, his usual quiet
demeanor shattered. “You mean Bob’s brother?”
“His mirror twin,” Judith replied after drinking more
water. “They faced each other in the womb, they’re exactly opposite. Bob once saved Jim’s life, and I’m not
entirely sure Jim was grateful. Even as a child, he must
have sensed his physical inferiority. Then, when Jim