A Cry in the Night

by Mary Higgins Clark

  Think about what Nana would tell her to do.

  Everything looks better over a cup of tea, Jenny. Mechanically she put on the kettle.

  What did you eat today, Jen? It’s not good thisbusiness of skipping meals.

  She went to the refrigerator, pulled out sandwich makings. A BLT down, she thought, and managed a smile.

  As she ate, she tried to picture telling Nana about last night. “Clyde said he saw me but my feet weren’t wet. Could it have been Caroline?”

  She could just hear Nana’s reaction. There are no such things as ghosts, Jen. When you’re dead, you’re dead.

  Then how did the locket get upstairs?

  Find out.

  The telephone book was in the drawer under the wall phone. Holding the sandwich, Jenny went over and got it. She flipped the classified section to JEWELRY, BOUGHT AND SOLD. The jeweler to whom she’d sold the locket. She’d circled his ad with Magic Marker.

  She dialed the number, asked to speak to the manager. Quickly she explained: “I’m Mrs. Krueger. I sold a locket to you last week. I think I’d like to buy it back.”

  “Mrs. Krueger, I wish you’d stop wasting my time. Your husband came in and told me you had no right to sell a family piece. I let him buy it for just what I paid you.”

  “My husband!”

  “Yes, he came not twenty minutes after you sold it to me.” The line went dead.

  Jenny stared into the phone. Erich had suspected her. He had followed her that afternoon, probably in one of the farm vehicles. But how had the locket gotten to the attic?

  She went to the desk, got out a pad of lined paper. One hour ago she’d planned to write the statement Erich had demanded. Now there was something else she needed to see in black and white.

  She settled at the kitchen table. On the first line she wrote, There are no ghosts. On the second: I could not have been outside last night. One more, she thought. The next line she printed in caps: I AM NOT A VIOLENT PERSON.

  Begin at the beginning, she thought. Write everything down. All the trouble began with that first phone call from Kevin. . . .

  Clyde did not come near the house. The third day she went into the office. It was the tenth of February. Clyde was on the phone talking to a dealer. She sat watching him. When Erich was around, Clyde tended to fade into the background. With Erich gone, his voice took on a new note of authority. She listened as he arranged the sale of a two-year-old bull for over one hundred thousand dollars.

  When he hung up, he looked at her warily. Obviously he was remembering their last conversation.

  “Clyde, don’t you have to consult with Erich when you sell a bull for that kind of money?”

  “Miz Krueger, when Erich is here, he gets into the business as much as he wants. But the fact is he’s never been much interested in running this farm or the limeworks.”

  “I see. Clyde, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Tell me. Where was Rooney Wednesday night when you thought you saw Caroline?”

  “What do you mean, where was Rooney?”

  “Just that. I called the hospital and spoke to Dr. Philstrom. He’s the psychiatrist who came in to see me.”

  “I know who he is. He’s Rooney’s doctor.”

  “That’s right. You didn’t tell me Rooney had an overnight pass on Wednesday night.”

  “Wednesday night Rooney was in the hospital.”

  “No, she wasn’t. She was staying with Maude Ekers. It was Maude’s birthday. You were supposed to go to a cattle auction and you’d given permission for Maude to pick up Rooney. Rooney thought you were in St. Cloud.”

  “I was. I got back home round midnight. I’d forgotten Rooney was going to Maude’s.”

  “Clyde, isn’t it possible Rooney slipped out of Maude’s house and was walking around on the farm?”

  “No, it ain’t.”

  “Clyde, she often walks around at night. You know that. Isn’t it possible you saw her with a blanket wrapped around her, a blanket that might seem like a cape from a distance? Think of Rooney with her hair down.”

  “Rooney ain’t worn her hair out of a bun for twenty years, ’cept of course . . .” He hesitated.

  “Except when?”

  “’cept at night.”

  “Clyde, don’t you see what I’m trying to tell you? Just one more question. Did Erich put a gold locket in the safe or give it to you to put there?”

  “He put it in himself. He said you kept mislaying it and didn’t want it lost.”

  “Did you tell Rooney that?”

  “I might a mentioned it, just to talk, just to pass the time of day.”

  “Clyde, Rooney knows the combination of this safe, doesn’t she?”

  He frowned, a worried frown. “She might.”

  “And she’s home on passes more than you’ve admitted?”

  “She’s been home some.”

  “And it’s possible she was wandering around here Wednesday night. Clyde, open the safe. Show me my locket.”

  Silently he obeyed. His fingers fumbled as he worked the combination. The door swung open. He reached in, pulled out a small strongbox and opened it expectantly. Then he held it up as though hoping that a stronger light would reveal what he was seeking. Finally he said, his voice unnaturally soft, “The locket ain’t here.”

  Two nights later, Erich phoned. “Jenny!” There was a sing-song, teasing quality in his voice.

  “Erich! Erich!”

  “Where are you, Jen?”

  “I’m downstairs, on the couch.” She looked at the clock. It was after eleven. She had dozed off.

  “Why?”

  “It’s lonesome upstairs, Erich.” She wanted to tell him what she suspected about Rooney.

  “Jenny.” The anger in his voice bolted her awake. “I want you where you belong in our room, in our bed. I want you to wear the special nightgown. Do you hear me?”

  “Erich, please. Tina. Beth. How are they?”

  “They’re fine. Read the letter to me.”

  “Erich, I found out something. Maybe you’ve been wrong.” Too late she tried to call back the words. “I mean, Erich, maybe we’ve both just not understood . . .”

  “You haven’t written the letter. . . .”

  “I started to. But Erich what you think isn’t true. I’m sure of that now.”

  The connection broke.

  Jenny rang the bell at Maude Ekers’ kitchen door. How many months had it been since she’d been here? Since Maude told her to leave Joe alone?

  Maude had been right to worry about Joe.

  She was about to ring the bell again when the door opened. Joe was there, a much thinner Joe, the boyish face matured by tired lines around his eyes.

  “Joe!”

  He held his hands out. Impulsively she grasped them; with a rush of affection she kissed his cheek. “Joe.”

  “Jenny, I mean, Mrs. Krueger . . .” Awkwardly he stood aside to let her pass.

  “Is your mother here?”

  “She’s working. I’m by myself.”

  “I’m just as glad. I have to talk to you. I’ve wanted to talk to you so much but you know . . .”

  “I know, Jenny. I’ve caused you so much trouble. I’d like to go down on my knees for what I said the morning of the accident. I guess everyone thought I was saying that you . . . well, you’d hurt me. Like I told the sheriff I didn’t mean that at all. I just meant, I thought I was dying and I was worried about telling you I’d seen you that night.”

  She took the seat across the kitchen table from him.

  “Joe, do you mean you don’t think you saw me that night?”

  “Just like I tried to explain to the sheriff and like I told Mr. Krueger last week . . . there was something always bothering me about that night.”

  “Bothering you?”

  “It’s the way you move. You’re so graceful, Jenny. You have such a quick, light step, like a deer. Whoever came down the porch that night walked different. It’s hard to explain. And she was sort of
leaning forward, so her hair was almost covering her face. You always stand so straight. . . .”

  “Joe, do you think you might have seen Rooney wearing my coat that night?”

  Joe looked puzzled. “How could that be? The reason I was standing there is because I saw Rooney on the path leading to the house and I didn’t want to bump into her. Rooney was there all right but somebody else got in that car.”

  Jenny rubbed her hand over her forehead. These last few days she’d come to believe that Rooney was the key to everything that had happened. Rooney could let herself in and out of the house so silently. Rooney could even have overheard Erich and her talking about Kevin. Rooney could have made the phone call. Rooney knew about the panel between the bedrooms. Everything fit into place if Rooney, wearing her coat, had met Kevin that night.

  Then who was wearing that coat? Who had arranged the meeting?

  She didn’t know.

  But at least Joe had verified that he believed she, Jenny, was not that person.

  She got up to go. There was no point in being here when Maude came home. Maude would be horrified. She tried to make herself smile. “Joe, I’m so glad to have seen you. We’ve missed you. It’s good news that you’ll be working for us again.”

  “I sure was glad when Mr. Krueger offered me the job. And like I say, I told him what I just told you.”

  “What did Erich say?”

  “He told me I should keep my mouth shut, that I’d only start trouble raking up that story. And I swore I wouldn’t mention it again to a soul. But of course he never meant I couldn’t tell you.”

  She made a business of pulling on her gloves. She mustn’t let him see how shattered she was. Erich had demanded that she sign that statement, saying she got in the car with Kevin, even after Joe told him he was sure someone else was wearing her coat.

  She had to think it through.

  “Jenny, I guess I had an awful crush on you. I think I made it hard for you with Mr. Krueger.”

  “Joe, it’s all right.”

  “But I have to tell you. Like I told Maw, it’s just that you’re the kind of person I want to find when I get serious about a girl. I explained that to Maw. She was so worried because she always said my uncle would have had such a different life if it wasn’t for Caroline. But even that’s working out. My uncle hasn’t had a drop since my accident and they’re getting together again.”

  “Who’s getting together again?”

  “My uncle was keeping company at the time of the accident. When John Krueger told everybody Uncle Josh had been so careless ’cause he was mooning around Caroline, his girl got so upset she broke the engagement. And then my uncle began drinking. But now after all these years, they’re starting to see each other.”

  “Joe, who is your uncle seeing?”

  “The girl he used to go around with. Woman, now, of course. You know, Jenny. Your housekeeper, Elsa.”

  34

  Elsa had been engaged to Josh Brothers. She had never married. How much bitterness might have built up over the years against the Kruegers? Why had she taken the job at the farmhouse? The way Erich treated her was so belittling. Elsa could have taken the coat from the closet. Elsa could have overheard her and Erich talking. Elsa might have pumped the girls about Kevin.

  But why?

  She had to talk to someone; she had to trust someone.

  Jenny stopped. The wind slapped at her forehead. There was one person she could trust, someone whose face now filled her vision.

  She could trust Mark and he should be back from Florida by now.

  As soon as she reached the house, she looked up the number of Mark’s clinic and phoned. Dr. Garrett was expected any minute; who was calling?

  She did not want to leave her name. “What time would be good to reach him?”

  “His clinic hours are between five and seven P.M.”

  She’d call him at home after that.

  She walked over to the office. Clyde was just locking the desk. There was a wariness, a constraint between them now. “Clyde, how’s Rooney?” she asked.

  “I’m bringing her home for good tomorrow. But, Miz Krueger, one thing. I’d appreciate it if you stay away from Rooney. I mean don’t ask her to your house; don’t visit her.” He looked unhappy. “Dr. Philstrom says Rooney getting into a stress situation could set her back.”

  “And I’m that stress situation?”

  “All I know, Miz Krueger, is that Rooney ain’t seen Caroline walking around the hospital.”

  “Clyde, before you lock up that desk, I wish you’d give me some money. Erich left so suddenly that I only have a few dollars and I need to get some odds and ends. Oh, yes, may I borrow your car to go into town?”

  Clyde turned the key and dropped it in his pocket. “Erich was real plain about that, Miz Krueger. He don’t want you borrowing cars and he told me anything you need till he gets back, you should just tell me and I’ll see you get it. But he said real emphatic that he don’t want no money given to you. He said it’ll cost me my job if I give you a dime from the farm funds or lend my own money to you.”

  Something in her face made him adapt a friendlier tone. “Miz Krueger, you’re not to want for anything. Just tell me what you need.”

  “I need . . .” Jenny bit her lip, turned and slammed out of the office. She ran along the path, tears of rage and humiliation blinding her.

  The late-afternoon shadows were spreading like curtains on the pale brick of the farmhouse. At the edge of the woods the tall Norwegian pines were vividly lush against the stark nakedness of the maples and birches. The sun, hidden behind heavy charcoal clouds, was sending diffused rays over the horizon, streaking the sky with coldly beautiful shades of mauve and pink and cranberry.

  A winter sky. A winter place. It had become her prison.

  At eight minutes after seven, Jenny reached for the phone to call Mark. Her hand was touching the receiver when the phone rang. She grabbed it off the cradle. “Hello.”

  “Jenny, you must be sitting on top of the phone. Are you waiting for a call?” There was an edge to the teasing quality in Erich’s tone.

  Jenny felt her palms go damp. Instinctively she tightened her grasp on the receiver. “I’ve been hoping to hear from you.” Did she sound natural? Did her nervousness show? “Erich, how are the girls?”

  “They’re fine, of course. What have you been doing today, Jenny?”

  “Not much. Now that Elsa doesn’t come in, I’m a bit busier in the house. I rather like that.” Closing her eyes, trying to choose her words, she added lightly, “Oh, I saw Joe.” She hurried on, not wanting to lie, not wanting to admit that she’d gone to the Ekers home. “He’s so pleased that you rehired him, Erich.”

  “I suppose he told you the rest of the conversation I had with him?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that garbled story about seeing you get in the car and then deciding he hadn’t seen you. You never admitted to me that Joe actually told you he’d seen you in the car that night. I always thought it was only Rooney who saw you.”

  “But Joe said . . . he told me that he told you . . . he’s positive it was someone else wearing my coat.”

  “Jen, have you signed that statement?”

  “Erich, don’t you see we have a witness who swears . . .”

  “What you mean is we have a witness who knows he saw you and who, to ingratiate himself with me, to get back his job, is now willing to change his story. Jenny, stop trying to avoid the truth. Either have that statement ready to read to me next time I call or forget about seeing the girls until they’re adults.”

  Jenny’s control snapped. “You can’t do this. I’ll swear out a warrant. They’re my children. You can’t run away with them.”

  “Jenny, they’re just as much mine as yours. I’ve only taken them on a vacation. I’ve warned you there’s no judge who would award them to you. I have a townful of witnesses who’ll swear I’m a wonderful father. Jenny, I love you enough to g
ive you a chance to live with them, to be cared for yourself. Don’t push me too hard. Good-bye, Jenny. I’ll call you soon.”

  Jenny stared at the dead receiver. All the tenuous confidence she had started to build vanished. Give up, something said to her. Write the confession. Read it to him. Be finished with it.

  No. Biting her lips into a thin, firm line she dialed Mark’s number.

  He answered on the first ring. “Dr. Garrett.”

  “Mark.” Why did that deep, warm voice bring quick tears to her eyes?

  “Jenny. What’s the matter? Where are you?”

  “Mark, I . . . Could you . . . I have to talk to you.” She paused, then went on: “But I wouldn’t want anyone to see you here. If I cut through the west field, would you pick me up? Unless . . . I mean . . . If you have plans, don’t bother. . . .”

  “Wait near the millhouse. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Jenny went up to the master bedroom and turned on the reading light by the bed. She left a light on in the kitchen, a smaller one in the parlor. Clyde might investigate if the house was completely dark.

  She’d have to take the chance that Erich wouldn’t phone again in the next few hours.

  She left the house and walked in the shadow of the stable and polebarns. Behind the electric fences she could see the outlines of the cattle as they hunched near the barns. There was no grazing on the snow-covered ground and they tended to stay near the buildings where they were fed.

  Less than ten minutes after she reached the mill, she heard the faint sound of a car approaching. Mark was driving with his parking lights on. She stood out in the clearing and waved. He stopped, leaned over and opened the door for her.

  He seemed to understand that she wanted to get away quickly. It wasn’t until they reached the county road that he spoke. “I understood you were in Houston with Erich, Jenny.”