She said to her daughter, "Listen, Sally, I love you. I've loved you forever. You will get better. I don't care what it costs. You'll have the best care. If you don't like Doctor Beadermeyer, then we'll find you another doctor. But for now, please, go back with him to the sanitarium so you can be protected.
"You were judged mentally incompetent by Judge Har-kin. You don't even remember the hearing, do you? Well, no wonder. You were so ill, you just sat through the whole thing, didn't say a thing, just stared straight ahead. I spoke to you, but you just looked through me. You didn't even recognize me. It was horrible.
"I'm your guardian now that your father is dead. Both Scott and I are, as a matter of fact. Please trust me, Sally.
I only want what's best for you. I love you."
Scott said, "Mr. Quinlan, you could hold her for a day. maybe, but that's all. The judge has already ruled that she isn't responsible for her actions. You can't do anything to her. No one would consider having her Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
stand trial for the murder of her father."
She kept her head, though Quinlan knew that shook her. This was some group. He still couldn't make up his mind about her mother. She seemed so sincere, so caring, but... Now they seemed certain she'd murdered her father? It was almost time for him to intervene, but not just yet.
Sally said, raising her hand to stem her mother's words, “Noelle, did you know that Doctor Beadermeyer kept me drugged all the time? That's why I don't remember the hearing. I told you that my father came and beat me twice a week, but did you know that Doctor Beadermeyer watched? Oh, yes, Doctor, I know about that two-way mirror. I also know you let others look through the door window when my father was fondling himself while I was lying naked on the bed."
She jumped to her feet, and Quinlan was sure she was going to attack Beadermeyer. He lightly touched her arm. Her muscles were frozen. She yelled, "Did you enjoy it, you filthy slug?"
She whirled around to face her mother. "I don't remember the hearing because he kept me drugged up so I wouldn't fight him or any of his keepers. Don't you understand? There was no way in hell they could let up on the drugs. I would have blown them out of the water. Did you also know that sometimes my father would have him lighten the dosage so I'd be more alert when he came to abuse me? That's right, Noelle, believe it. My father, your husband. I'm not lying to you. I'm not making this up to defend my shattered ego. My father was a monster, Noelle. But you know that, don't you?"
Her mother screamed at her, "No more of that, Sally! No more of your crazy lies. I can't stand it, I just can't."
Scott Brainerd shouted, "That's right, Sally. That's more than enough. Apologize to your mother for those horrible things you're saying about her husband."
"But they're all true, and you know they are, Scott. Father couldn't have had me committed without your being in on it. Why did you want me put away, Scott?''
"It nearly killed me to have you committed," Scott said. "Nearly killed me. But we had to. You were going to harm yourself."
To Quinlan's relief, Sally actually managed to laugh. "Oh, that's really good, Scott. You're a wretched liar. Now, Noelle, when my father was beating me, or just holding me down while he stood over me, he'd laugh, tell me how he finally had me right where he wanted me, where I deserved to be.
"Goodness, I remember it all now. He said it was his revenge for all the years I tried to protect you, Noelle. He said being in this nice place would keep my mouth shut about the other, but I don't know what he meant by that."
"I do," Quinlan said. "We'll get to that later."
She smiled at him and nodded, then turned back to her mother. "Did he tell you how much he hated me?
But I guess locking me away wasn't enough for him. I guess he wasn't beating you enough, Noelle, since he had to come and beat me as well. Twice a week. Like clockwork. He was a man of disciplined habits. I was so drugged I sometimes didn't even know, but Holland, that pathetic little creep, he would say, 'Yep, every Tuesday and Friday, the old guy's here to knock you around and beat off.'
"Of course, I do remember many of the times, particularly when they lightened the drugs. It pleased Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
him-to know I knew it was him and I was helpless to stop him doing anything he wanted to do."
Noelle St. John turned on Dr. Beadermeyer. "She is sick, isn't she, Alfred? This can't be true, can it?
And not just Amory, but Scott too. Why, he's sworn to me that she's very ill. Just as you have."
Beadermeyer shrugged. It was the man's favorite response, Quinlan thought. "I think she believes what she's saying is true. She really is very ill. Because she believed he did this to her, she had to murder him to assuage her own guilt. I told you how she managed to hide the sedatives beneath her tongue and escape the sanitarium. She came straight here, like a homing pigeon, took her father's gun from his desk, and when he came in, she shot him. You heard the shot, Noelle. So did you, Scott. By the time I got here she was standing over him, watching the blood leak out of his chest, and all of you were just staring at her. I tried to help her, but she turned that gun on me and escaped again."
Quinlan sat forward on the sofa. Ah, now it would come out. It was time. None of this surprised him. In a few minutes it wouldn't surprise Sally either.
Beadermeyer turned to Sally, and his voice was gentle as a soft rain on the windowpanes. "Come, my dear, I'll protect you from the police. I'll protect you from the FBI, from the press, from everyone. You must leave this man. You don't even know who he is."
"Susan," Scott said, "I'm sorry for all this, but I know you couldn't help yourself. All those delusions, those dreams, those fantasies, Doctor Beadermeyer told us you had. You did shoot Amory, you had the gun in your hand. Noelle and I saw you holding that gun, leaning down over him. We just want to help you, protect you. We didn't tell the police a thing. Doctor Beadermeyer left before they even came. No one accused you. We've been protecting you all along."
"I didn't kill my father."
"But you told me you didn't remember anything," Noelle said. "You told me you were afraid I'd done it and that was why you ran away. To protect you, I made the police suspect me, acted as guilty as I could, even though I hadn't killed him. What saved me was that they couldn't ever find the gun. Neither Scott nor I ever told the police that we were practically witnesses to the shooting. In fact, Scott didn't even tell them he was here. That made me a better suspect. They couldn't find you. The police are certain that you know I did it and that's why you ran. But I didn't, Sally, I didn't. You did."
"And I know she didn't, Susan," Scott Brainerd said, his pipe dangling loose in his right hand, cold now.
"I met her in the hallway, and we came into the living room together. You were there, leaning over him, the gun in your hand. You have to go with Doctor Beadermeyer or else you'll wind up behind bars."
"Ah, yes," said Quinlan. "The good Doctor Beadermeyer, or should I call you Norman Lipsy, from the fair nation of Canada to our north?''
"I prefer Doctor Beadermeyer," the man said, with exquisite calm. He lounged more comfortably in his chair, a man without a care, relaxed, at ease.
"What's he talking about?" Scott said.
"Your good doctor here is a fake," Quinlan said. "That little hideaway of his is nothing more than a prison where he keeps folks that family or others want out of the way. I wonder how much money Sally's father paid him to keep her? Maybe you know, Scott? Maybe some of it was your money. I'll just bet it was."
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