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Shadow of Death

Page 10

by Patricia Gussin


  Six years ago was the happiest period of their marriage, or so he thought. His career was blossoming. She was wrapped up in the social scene. Elated by an enthusiastic response to the research he’d presented at a surgical meeting in San Francisco, David had taken the red-eye back to Detroit to share his excitement with Cynthia. He’d taken a cab to Gross Point Shores, longing to surprise Cynthia and just slip into bed beside her.

  Letting himself into the house, he’d crept up the circular staircase, already unbuttoning his wilting shirt. He’d heard the moan coming through the open bedroom door. Could Cynthia be having a bad dream? She used to have nightmares frequently about her mother’s death. He’d rushed to her side to comfort her.

  “David, thank God,” Cynthia’s normally strong voice trembled. “How did you know?”

  “Darling? Know what? What’s happened?” At Cynthia’s side, he could see she was writhing in pain, her dark hair splayed across the pink silk pillowcase. But it was her pallor that had scared him the most. He dropped to his knees, fumbling for her hand. “What’s wrong?” he pleaded. “Tell me, Cynthia.”

  “I wanted to go through with it, but I got scared.” The words came out in chokes, interspersed amongst moans. It wasn’t until he turned back the sweat soaked sheet and saw the pool of dark red blood that had leaked out around saturated sanitary napkins, that horror replaced panic.

  Grabbing Cynthia by the shoulders, failing to control the anger in his voice, he’d demanded, “What have you done? You must tell me.”

  “Yesterday,” she said. “But I didn’t think it would hurt like this. David, did they do something wrong? I’m so scared.” Tears filled her deep blue eyes, saturating the pillows. “Please don’t let me die!”

  “You had an abortion! You killed the baby? Our child?”

  “Why did you do this?” he’d sobbed.

  “I thought I could do it. I knew you wanted a baby. You were away. I got scared. Found a doctor. Please don’t let me die.” Her words came out thready, halting. She continued to writhe, and he knew he had to help her.

  “You’re going to need blood transfusions, antibiotics. I’ll have Ed Barrone admit you to the hospital. Call it a miscarriage.”

  “David, please understand. My mother. I was a little girl when she died. She died giving birth. She bled to death. Daddy always told me not to get pregnant. I tried — for you. I got too scared.”

  How could he ever forgive her for intentionally killing his child? Cynthia was a healthy young woman. Using her mother’s tragedy was not an acceptable excuse. At least to him, but was he being fair? It was Cynthia’s body. Was she really that terrified or was she simply selfish? Or was he the selfish one? He honestly didn’t know.

  Since then Cynthia had taken the pill and, over the years, they’d had sex less and less frequently. He had simply busied himself in his work. Contrary to Cynthia’s taunts, he’d had no other women. But six years later, David could still feel the rage.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Daddy, Mommy is taking me and Kevin to her school today,” Mikey announced on the Tuesday morning before Christmas as Steve sauntered into the small kitchen whose borders were decorated with paper cut-out snowflakes.

  “There are pancakes in the oven for you, hon,” Laura offered. She had made them as a kind of peace offering now that the semester was over and she had some time off. Things with Steve had been increasingly tense over the past few months. She just couldn’t shake the panic that was always there, accentuated every time they made love. So she struggled to come up with ways to put Steve off. She sensed the downward spiral this put on the intimacy of their marriage, but she was helpless to reverse it.

  “It’s great being home and having a real breakfast for a change,” Laura said tentatively.

  Steve sat at the table. “Feels like forever,” he said with a smile. “Don’t think I’ve had pancakes since—”

  “Since the Tigers lost the pennant.” Laura, smiling herself, finished his sentence. “I made them the morning after that split doubleheader.”

  “Ouch. Sending Boston to the series just to lose to the Cards. Mark my word, the Tigers are going all the way next year. Right, Mr. Mike?”

  “Right, Dad. I like Al Kaline.”

  Steve patted Mikey’s blonde head. “Sure you want to go in today?” he asked.

  “Susan called yesterday and said that the first semester grades will be posted at nine this morning. They’re also mailing them. But we’re going up north and the suspense is killing me. I figured I’d just drive in to get them.”

  “Sure you can handle the boys?”

  “Yes. There’ll be plenty of parking spots right outside school.”

  “As long as you’re careful,” he said, swallowing a mouthful of pancakes. “Mmm, these are great. You’re not having any?”

  Laura hesitated. “Guess I’m just not hungry. I’ll grab something later.”

  For a month or so, Laura had suffered constant nausea. Sometimes it was hard to keep food down, a situation she had initially attributed to the memory of that awful night and then the stress of final exams. And now she had missed three periods. She was due this week, and if she didn’t get it she’d have to see a doctor. Surely she’d feel better once she knew she had made it through the first semester.

  “Come on, Mommy, let’s go. I want to see your school.” Mikey began to smack his fork impatiently against his plate. “Let’s go now!”

  Laura marveled at the child’s enthusiasm. How could anyone — even a kid — consider the tedious drive downtown exciting? With a sharp pang, she remembered how she herself had felt on her first day of class when life was simply brimming with possibility. Now she was just relieved not to have been implicated in the murder of Johnny Diggs. As each day passed the fear inside her subsided a bit, but it never dissolved, and she knew it never would.

  Laura carried Kevin and led Mikey along the walkway that connected the hospital to the med school where they entered the elevator that would take them to the third floor.

  “What’s that funny smell?” Mikey inquired as soon as they stepped off.

  “I don’t smell anything,” Laura answered before realizing that it was the all-permeating odor of formaldehyde escaping from the anatomy lab. She no longer even noticed the smell. Poor Harry, she thought, he’s still in there half-dissected. She wondered if his soul had gone to heaven or hell.

  “It stinks,” insisted Mikey. He pushed against the elevator wall. “I love elevators.”

  “Me too, Mikey. Here, you can push the button.”

  The administration posted the semester grades outside the cafeteria on the wall. All grades were listed by social security number in order to preserve confidentiality.

  “Come on, Mikey,” she urged, reaching for his hand. Her son had stopped to look at posters outside the physiology department office. Laura didn’t think she could stand the anxiety any longer.

  “Mommy, what are these pictures? They look like bodies with no skin.”

  “Right, Mikey. That’s what you look like inside, underneath your skin.”

  “Are you sure? Yuck,” he declared, picking up his pace.

  Hurrying along the nearly empty corridors, they soon arrived at the cafeteria. Laura spotted the posted list and shifted Kevin over to her other shoulder. Mikey was beside her, still holding her hand. She stared at the long list of numbers. University Medical School had a pass-fail system for each class, with an option for the occasional honors.

  Laura stood still for a few moments, silently reciting a Hail Mary. She then raised her eyes to each listing, starting with biochemistry. Thank God, a pass. Moving to anatomy, she gasped and let go of Mikey’s hand. Honors. Better than she’d ever dared dream.

  “What’s wrong, Mommy?” Mikey squeaked.

  Taking Mikey by the hand again, she stood and went back to the charts. Histology, a pass. physiology, another honors.

  “I don’t believe this,” she let out. One more list, physical diagnosis.


  The shock of another honors registered.

  “Laura,” a familiar voice called out. It was Rosie. “I knew you’d show up. Oh, these must be your kids. Hello, Mr. Kid,” Rosie stooped down to say hello to Mikey. “So, what’s the good word?”

  Laura was still stunned. “Well, okay. I mean, really okay. How about you?”

  “All passes, thank God. I was really worked up about biochem. I can finally breathe again.”

  “Me too,” said Laura.

  “Want to go inside? Maybe Mikey wants an ice cream.” Rosie spelled out “ice cream.” “I’m finishing some experiments in the lab, and right now they’re on automatic pilot. It’s a special project because I’m thinking of going for that combined M.D./Ph.D. in biochem. Figured I’d get a head start since I can’t seem to keep a boyfriend.”

  Laura laughed. “Sure, let’s go for it. Mikey, you go with Rosie for some ice cream, and I’ll take Kevin and find a table.”

  Thrilled, Mikey ran ahead.

  “They have chocolate,” Mikey came running back. “That’s what kind I want.”

  Inside the cafeteria, the foursome settled down. Laura took off the boys’ snowsuits, waking up Kevin in the process. Then they went to work on Dixie cups of chocolate ice cream.

  “So give me the facts,” Rosie said. “What did you get? I know you were concerned about physical diagnosis. What did ‘Dr. Charming’ give you?”

  “You mean Dr. Monroe?” Laura grinned. “Well, this you’ll never believe. Honors. Even though I bungled that report.”

  “That’s wonderful!” cried Rosie, jumping up to give Laura a hug. “If anybody deserves it, you do. Now I’ve got to run. Congratulations again, and I’m so glad I finally met your kids.”

  As Laura settled back to spoon out ice cream for Kevin, she noticed an entourage of white coats heading toward one of the larger tables in the corner, a group of surgical residents. In the center was Dr. Monroe himself.

  What should she do? Naturally, he would see her. Children were not supposed to be in here, and Mikey’s squeaky voice had already caused a few people to glance her way. She wanted to thank Dr. Monroe for her grade, but not in the presence of his disciples, and certainly not with her children in tow. Besides, she looked a mess. Almost as bad as she did the last time she’d run into Dr. Monroe unexpectedly, in the parking lot. Remembering it now, her heart slammed against her chest, just as it had that awful night.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The surgical group had just completed morning rounds and had a few spare minutes before the next case. It was rare that Dr. Monroe joined the residents for a cup of coffee in the cafeteria, but today was one of those days because the med students were off and the schedule was less hectic. It also gave David a chance to talk with Ed Collins, whose pallor and frailness over the past semester had increasingly concerned him.

  The group settled around a circular table and began chatting about the world’s first heart transplant that had taken place in Capetown, South Africa, of all places. Someone asked David if he knew Christian Barnard. But he did not answer. He had turned to stare at the young woman with a baby and a small child sitting across the room.

  David Monroe recognized Laura immediately. If it were not for his snooping, he would have been surprised by the sight of the children. He had requested her admission file from the med school administration office and learned that she was twenty-three years old, married, and the mother of two children. Graduating from the University of Michigan with a 3.8 grade point average, she’d been given a full scholarship and access to the maximum amount of loans available to first year med students.

  What surprised him was that she was married and had children. She’d intrigued him from the start. More and more, she reminded him of himself at that age, intensely committed and passionate about learning.

  Originally he had linked his special interest to her report on the unfortunate Diggs case. Then the murder of a young black man near the medical school campus had brought forth questions from that detective, Reynolds. Coincidence that the victim turned out to be the brother of Anthony Diggs?

  After informing David that his investigation had unearthed the fact that the victim had been forcibly removed by hospital security less than two hours before his murder, the stubborn detective questioned him very pointedly about Laura Nelson. What did he know of her whereabouts that night? Had he seen her outside the hospital? David told Reynolds that he had. The detective pushed him about timing. Exactly what time had he seen her? David simply could not remember more; he chose not to describe her somewhat disheveled appearance, her wild eyes. Whatever the case, there was no way she could have shown up the next morning had she witnessed a murder. The detective was barking up the wrong tree.

  David’s attention remained focused across the room where Laura had started to put the baby into a light blue snowsuit.

  David rose. “Excuse me a moment,” he said, walking toward Laura’s table as she struggled with Kevin’s zipper.

  “Need help with that contraption?” he inquired softly.

  Laura blinked. “Dr. Monroe,” she blurted, “I’m just getting ready to leave.”

  “No, Mommy,” Mikey said as he stared at the tall man in the white lab coat, “there’s still some ice cream left!”

  “That’s okay, Mikey. We don’t have to finish it.”

  David Monroe smiled broadly.

  “Dr. Monroe, I want to thank you for the physical diagnosis grade. I didn’t expect it.”

  “You shouldn’t be surprised, considering you handed in a fine report.”

  Laura blushed.

  “I don’t give compliments lightly,” he said in that charming drawl. “You probably know my reputation.”

  “Thank you,” she said, blushing more deeply.

  “Mind if I sit down?”

  “Sure.” She gaped at the messy table. “Mikey, would you help clean the table and put all our Dixie cups into the trash?”

  As soon as David sat down, Mikey leaned closer to him, and the chief of surgery reached out and patted the small blonde head.

  Mikey nodded proudly, lifting the tray upon which Laura had collected their leftovers. After he walked off, David spoke slowly, “I thought you might be interested in an update on the Diggs boy. He died just before rounds night before last. It’s a blessing, really.”

  “Oh, no, his poor mother. Such a hard-working woman. And so much tragedy in her life.” Laura sighed deeply, looking away for a moment. Forcing down the panic triggered by that name. Then Mikey returned from his errand. She reached up to brush a strand of hair off her face.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your young companions?” David abruptly changed his demeanor. The distinguished professor vanished and a gentle man emerged.

  “Yes, of course,” Laura said, taken by the boyish smile David directed at her kids. “This is Mikey and the baby is Kevin. Mikey, this is Dr. Monroe, one of my professors.”

  “Hi, Mikey.” He reached down to shake the little boy’s hand, then softly touched Kevin’s silky blonde hair just as the baby broke into a smile. “You’re a happy fellow, aren’t you? But here’s the guy I want to talk to.” He turned to Mikey. “What’s your favorite color?” he quickly asked.

  “Green!” Mikey shot back.

  “Mine too,” he said. “If Mommy says yes, we can go right over there and I bet we can find something green.” He pointed to the vending area in the corner of the room.

  Laura smiled and nodded as David held out his hand and led the boy away. Mikey, thrilled, found something green among the machines. Walking hand-in-hand back to Laura, he thanked his new friend in an excited, squeaky voice, and gave Laura a pair of lollipops.

  “Well, Mikey, it was sure nice meeting you,” David beamed down at the little boy, then faced Laura with a smile. “Laura, have a nice holiday vacation.”

  Laura blushed at his use of her first name. “You too. Thanks again, Dr. Monroe.”

  As the Nelson trio made
their way toward the exit, David sat still for a moment.

  “What the heck’s going on over there, David?” Ed Collins called. “Who’s the pretty lady with the kids?”

  Startled, David turned his head. To avoid Ed’s questioning eyes, he stood and glanced up at the cafeteria clock.

  “Listen, Ed, why don’t we meet for a chat after Grand Rounds this afternoon?”

  “Sounds good. Now get back to your group of young protégés over there.” Ed nodded toward the knot of surgical residents hovering by the doorway.

  “Let’s get back to it, people,” David called as he approached the group. He quickly led his entourage toward the surgical suites to prepare for the next case. All the while, images of Laura and her sons played through his mind. They were soon replaced by more images of Ed. He really did look thinner, even more gaunt than when David had seen him a week ago.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHRISTMAS EVE 1967

  When Laura awoke on the day before Christmas, snow had carpeted the earth overnight. More than ten inches had fallen since their arrival at Steve’s parents’ house in Traverse City. After learning that Steve’s elusive Aunt Hazel would be joining the Nelsons for the holiday, Laura wanted to drive over to the shopping center to pick up a few last minute gifts. Traveling in the Far East, Aunt Hazel had been unable to attend their wedding, but she had sent a substantial check. From what Laura had heard, Hazel was the opposite of her reclusive sister, Helen.

  Despite the idyllic winter scene, Laura’s mood darkened. She desperately missed her parents, especially her mom. Janet and Ted, her younger siblings, would have left their respective colleges by now, and her family would all be in Florida. Today, they’d have the traditional game of touch football on the beach. Tonight they’d all go to Midnight Mass where her mom sang in the choir. She sipped her second cup of tea, since coffee made her sick now. Laura put in a call to Florida, promising herself that next year she and Steve would take the kids south for the holidays.

 

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