A Perilous Conception

by Larry Karp

  I didn’t remember how Mrs. Hearn had looked at Sanford, but I guessed I really hadn’t been tuned in. “Can’t you just give me a shot of penicillin?”

  He tugged at my arm. “Come on, man. That’d be like trying to kill a tiger with a water pistol. If you can manage to drive your car a few blocks, I’ll follow you, leave my car there, and take you to the hospital. Once you’re settled in, with penicillin running, I’ll go get Iggy to drive me back for my car. And then, I’ll take care of Wanego’s body.”

  “How?”

  “Trust me. I’m a—”

  “Shove it.”

  ***

  On the way to the hospital, I began to drift in and out. I was in one of those between-states when I asked Sanford what he really knew about Hearn, Camnitz, and Wanego. “Get off the hypothetical crap,” I said. “You must have talked more to Dr. Hearn about the blackmail than you told me. You must have.”

  “Sure we talked. We both knew that woman would be back for more, and Giselle said she thought she knew what to do about it. Afterward, she told me it was like taking candy from a baby. She went to Camnitz, told him she wasn’t going to put up with Wanego any more, that he had to get rid of her, and if he didn’t, Giselle would resign, and then tell Mrs. Camnitz and the dean all the reasons why. So Camnitz cut a deal with Wanego. He gave her a year’s pay out of his pocket, she took off, and that was that.”

  “And you believed it,” I said, not quite a question.

  “That’s what Giselle told me.” Sanford’s voice was very quiet; I had to strain to hear him. “My God, she must’ve orchestrated the whole thing, got Wanego so worked up, it’d look like an accident when Giselle broke her neck. No more blackmail, no more lab techs quitting on her. Can you believe that?”

  “After thirty years on the force, yes. But am I also supposed to believe you never knew the first thing about it till now?”

  He glanced toward me, then had to spin the steering wheel to keep from going off into the ditch at the side of the road. “I’ve done a lot of stuff, Baumgartner, but I don’t think I have in me what it takes to kill someone. Not even you.”

  I held off for a moment, then said, “Well, I guess I don’t have any right to pull your chain. I should’ve been all over Camnitz, especially after I found out about him and Wanego. But by then, I’d decided it was you, and all I wanted was to nail your snotty nose to the wall.”

  “Let it go. No hard feelings. Listen, one other thing.”

  “What now?”

  “You don’t want to have the hospital crew find a police badge and ID, and a gun on you. Give ‘em here.” He held out one hand. “I’ll get them back to you when you can look after them.”

  Nothing left in my tank, not even fumes. I shucked out of the holster, dropped it onto the seat beside me, then pulled out my wallet and passed the badge and ID to Sanford. He dropped them into his shirt pocket. “Never know when they might come in handy,” he said, then quickly added, “Just kidding.”

  I closed my eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Baumgartner

  I woke out of the weirdest damn dream, where I was staggering down a dusty country road on a hot day, carrying an old man on my back. He kept shouting, “Go on, boy, faster. This rate, you ain’t never gonna get there.” Then, he’d hit me with a horsewhip. I tried telling him I was going fast as I could, but the words wouldn’t come out. Sweat ran off me in rivers, down my face, all over my body. When I opened my eyes, I was sitting straight up in bed. You could’ve wrung out my hospital gown.

  Outside the window of my room, the sun was high. I shivered, then grabbed up the little handset, dangling on a cord from the top of the bedrail, and pushed the Call Nurse button.

  She was there almost before I set down the device. Skinny little thing, not more than twenty-five, brown eyes magnified like in a cartoon, behind granny glasses a quarter-inch thick. One of those silly white upside-down-cupcake hats pinned to her black hair completed the image. “Well, Mr. Baumgartner. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got caught under a steamroller,” I said, and held out a fold of my gown. “And then got soaked with a fire hose.”

  She pinched the gown, and those dark eyes got even bigger. “Oh, my, that’s wonderful. Your fever must have broken.” She plucked a thermometer off the night table, and pushed me onto my side. “That’s it, please hold still now, that’s right.”

  I shivered again. “Can’t you please get me a dry gown.”

  “Certainly. Absolutely. As soon as I see…hold on a minute while I take a look…oh, your wound looks wonderful. All those awful red streaks are gone. There’s a little redness and swelling around the bullet hole, but that’s all.”

  “Good,” I muttered, then felt the thermometer slide out.

  “Oh, and look at this. Ninety-eight-point-two. Dr. Sanford’s going to be so pleased.”

  “Well, I guess I’m pleased, too. But I’d be really pleased if you’d get me out of this damn wet gown before I either drown or freeze to death.”

  She giggled, showing two rows of uneven teeth. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll give you a nice sponge bath, and clean up your wound, and re-dress it. We want you looking your best when Dr. Sanford comes to see you. I’ll be right back.”

  “I won’t go anywhere,” I mumbled, then shucked out of the gown, and pulled the sheet up to my neck.

  ***

  Inside an hour, my wound and I were nice and presentable for Dr. Sanford, and I’d had a decent breakfast, eggs, bacon, toast and coffee. I still had to favor my left buttock, but the pain was nothing like the last time I was aware of it. I asked Nurse Chipper when I might expect the arrival of The Doctor; she said she didn’t know exactly, but she was sure it would be as soon as he could. “He’s always so solicitous of all his patients, but the night nurse said she’d never seen him more concerned than he was about you. He’s a wonder, the way he keeps going, day and night, year after year. He’s the most dedicated doctor I’ve ever seen. You’re so lucky to be his friend.”

  I bit down hard, then managed, “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it.”

  ***

  When I heard the door open, I expected to see Sanford come sailing in, a team of adoring nurses riding his wake. But it wasn’t my heroic doctor; it was my wife. Irma stopped when she saw I’d spotted her, then walked up to my bedside like she was navigating a river bank studded with alligators. She took my hand. “You’re better.”

  “Better than what?”

  “Better than you looked when I was in here last night.”

  “You were here…when? I don’t remember—”

  “I’m sure you don’t.” The real Irma came blasting through the fragile layer of concern. “First, you were out of your mind, thrashing around, yelling, and then you were laying so still I thought you could be dead.”

  “How did you know I was here?”

  “Card in your wallet. I’m your next-of-kin, remember?”

  “Oh.”

  “Right. I really did think you were going to die. You had a fever up to a hundred and five, and the bedsheet had more color than you did. But that doctor-friend of yours told me you were going to be fine, that he’d gotten your treatment started in time, and I should go get some rest and come back in the morning. That’s one ballsy pal you’ve got, Bernie. Where’d you pick him up. He doesn’t seem like your type.”

  “We were working on a case together.”

  “I should’ve known. Was that the same case—”

  “That bought me a goulash bath? Yes. It’s over now, but before it was done, I managed to get shot in the ass, and it got infected.”

  Her whole attitude changed. She dropped my hand; her nostrils flared. I thought of a bull in a ring, about to charge the matador. “Bernie, damn you. Don’t lie to me.
It doesn’t matter. I was going to wait till you were out of the hospital to tell you—”

  “You’re going to leave me. For Henry Streator.”

  That stopped the bull in her tracks. “How the hell did you know? Henry promised he’d stay away from you and let me handle it.”

  “I haven’t seen Henry in days. You told me. The way you walked up to me from the door there, the look on your face, the way you’ve been talking to me. Like you’re an old friend, someone I’ve known for years, and meet a couple times a week over coffee and donuts. You’re not coming across like a wife whose husband was half-dead last night.”

  She smacked her hands to her hips, then blew out another chestful of vexation. “You’re good, Bernie. You can tell at a glance what makes anybody in the world tick, but you don’t have a clue about yourself.”

  “I know what makes me tick, Irma. So do you.”

  “But you don’t want to do a damn thing about it.”

  And live the life you’ve got in mind for me? “No. I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

  She moved a step away from the bedside. “Well, okay, then. I’ve had it, Bernie. Henry’s not exactly a blazing lover, but he’s a nice guy, and he talks to me. He’s been lonely since his wife died, he’s up for retirement, and he’s been wanting to see Egypt since he was a little kid and saw pictures of the mummies and the pyramids. Damn it, Bernie, I want a life. Can you understand that?”

  “Yes, I understand.” Sounding like somebody was playing a recording through my mouth. “I’ll miss you, I really will. But I wish you the best.” I paused, swallowed. “Henry, too.”

  She was crying now. “Maybe your married girl friend’ll be better for you.”

  “My what? Irma, I don’t have any girl friend, married or not.”

  The Hungarian temper roared back, front and center. “I told you, Bernie, don’t lie to me. Not now.” She pointed toward my crotch. “You didn’t get shot in the ass on that case, or any other one. A mad husband plugged you, going out a window. I heard a couple of nurses talking last night, while everyone was running around, trying to get you back to life. I’m not about to fault you, but listening to you try to feed me bullshit really pisses me off.”

  If I’d been watching this scene in a movie, I’d have been laughing and crying at the same time. Sanford, that dog. He said he was going to tell the resident he was covering for me in an embarrassing situation. Lie down with dogs, get up with fleas—but it was either lie down with that particular dog or never get up at all. If the strep hadn’t nailed me, Richmond would’ve.

  So what was I supposed to say to Irma? Could any words out of my mouth stop her from leaving? Try to give her the facts, she’d probably launch a bedpan at my head. It didn’t take a genius to see it hadn’t been easy for her, dropping that adios on me. Why I should make it harder?

  “Okay, Irma,” I said. “I’m sorry. I was embarrassed.”

  She made a disgusted face. “Bernie, Bernie…” She bent over, kissed my forehead, then turned away and headed for the door. “I’ll be out of the house by the time you’re home. And oh yeah. Your gun’s in your shirt drawer.”

  “All right. Thanks.”

  “I never would’ve used it. You know that, don’t you, Bernie.”

  “Sure.”

  I was going to tell her, stay in the house, I’d find another place, but she was already at the door. “Good luck, Irma,” I called after her.

  ***

  She couldn’t have been halfway to the elevator when Sanford charged into the room and up to my bed. He ran eye tape over me, then said, “You look pretty good. How’re you feeling?”

  “Better, but still a way to go. You sound like you’re surprised. What were you expecting?”

  He jerked a thumb behind him. “Your wife went past me like a tornado. I said hello to her, but she didn’t even look my way. I couldn’t believe you’d gotten worse, but—”

  “No small thing like that. She’s leaving me.”

  “And she thought right now was a good time to tell you?”

  “Tact never was Irma’s strong point. To be fair, though, she was going to wait till I was back on my feet, but she heard a couple of nurses gabbing about how I caught a bullet, going through a bedroom window.”

  Will wonders never cease? Sanford actually looked embarrassed. “Shit,” he mumbled, then looked me square in the eye. “I’m sorry, Baumgartner. I really am.”

  “I appreciate that. But no harm done. Today, next week, it doesn’t matter. She hung in for a lot of years, hoping one day I’d retire and we could sail off into the sunset, but now she knows that’s not in the cards, and she found somebody else to take her on a trip to Egypt.”

  Sanford looked lost for words. Finally, he managed, “How long were you married?”

  “Twenty-four years.”

  “Twenty-four…whew. I didn’t even make it to two.”

  “But you know what, Sanford? It’s ironic as hell. She finally packs up and takes off because I won’t quit the force, and now that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Soon as I’m out of here, I’m applying for a private investigator’s license—which according to Irma would be more of the same, just with a different label.”

  Sanford looked like a kid about to sneak up behind a cop and give him a hotfoot. “My guess is that she’d be right.”

  “Mine too. So, tell me, Doc. How much longer do I have to wait before I can go tell the chief to take a hike?”

  “Few days, probably. You’re pretty pale, and right now, if you weren’t propped up on those pillows, you’d fall over. Let’s see, vital signs…” He plucked the clipboard off the foot of the bed. “Pulse 86. Blood pressure 132/80. Temp 98.2. “Penicillin’s good stuff.”

  I gave him the eye. “You look like you’ve had a full night’s sleep.”

  “Not close. Just an hour or so, but I’m used to it. Some nights, I don’t get any.”

  “You must be on your lunch break.”

  He checked his watch. “Actually I’m not. I canceled all my appointments for today. I’m still sorting out last night’s business.”

  “You’re still sorting out…what’s there to sort out? What in hell are you up to now?”

  “Relax, Baumgartner. You’ll have your fever up to a hundred-five again. Everything’s under control. After Iggy and I straightened out the cars, I went back to Mrs. Hearn’s, and had a talk with her. Remember what she said after we told her we found the body? That she had no idea how she was going to face people, or what she could say to them when it came out what Giselle had done?”

  I cleared my throat, poured water from the bedside pitcher into a glass, drank. “Yeah. So?”

  “So I apologized for not getting back to her till three in the morning, then told her there was no need for anything about Giselle to become public knowledge. I said Camnitz and I had been close-working colleagues—”

  “Oh, Lord. When was the last time you told anyone the truth?”

  “Listen, would you. I told her Camnitz and I were sitting in my office about five-thirty yesterday, working on arrangements to keep Giselle’s lab running. He seemed distracted, said he’d been having bad dreams. Then, while we were talking about Giselle, he broke down. He said he’d been having an affair with Wanego, and she was after him to divorce his wife. Said if he didn’t, she’d pay the wife a visit herself. He snapped, strangled her, hid the body in a closet. He knew Mrs. Hearn lived on a farm out in the middle of nowhere, so he ran down to Giselle’s office, told her what he’d done, said it was an accident, and persuaded her to help him get rid of the body by promising to take all restrictions off her human embryo research.

  “I told him he had to call the police, but he said he wanted to talk it over with his family and call his lawyer, then turn himself in. We started to argue. Finally, he ran out, all in a l
ather.

  “So I told Mrs. Hearn, of course I called you right away. You said political pressure had gotten the case closed, but you didn’t like it. You even thought you knew where the body was, and you asked me to go up to Mrs. Hearn’s with you, and check that out. If you were right, and we did find the body, then you’d walk me past Mrs. Hearn to confirm I wasn’t the person she said Giselle brought up there last September. Then you’d pick up Camnitz, take him in, and let the chips fall where they may.

  “But on the way back to town, it came apart. You hadn’t been feeling well all day—when I said that, Mrs. Hearn told me yes, she’d thought you looked terrible—and before we got back to Emerald, you became delirious, then passed out. I got you to my hospital, found you had a serious streptococcal infection, and admitted you for treatment. After I had your care underway, I was going to call in the cops, but I thought about Mrs. Hearn…and you…”

  How thick can you smear grease? “Sanford…”

  “I told Mrs. Hearn I felt responsible for what was going to happen to her and you, that instead of letting Camnitz run out of our meeting, I should’ve told him I’d go along with his plan if he’d tell the police he’d driven out to Mrs. Hearn’s alone to bury the body. That would’ve spared Mrs. Hearn any embarrassment, and also wouldn’t have left you hanging out to dry. So I told her that after I got you in the hospital, I went to find Camnitz, make sure he did turn himself in, and see whether he’d be decent enough to say he’d acted on his own. But when I got to his street, it was chaos. He’d killed himself. Which, I told Mrs. Hearn, cleared the way to not involve Giselle, and also to get you off the hook. She was a little reluctant at first, but she finally decided she didn’t want you to get into trouble.”

  A water hammer started to pound over my left temple. “And she believed…sure she did. Coming from you? Definitely.”

  “I called the local cops, and when they came by, I told them about my meeting with Camnitz, what he said, and that I checked in with you afterward. But when you told me the case was closed, it bothered me enough that I finally went up to Mrs. Hearn’s, found the body, talked to her, and called them. All the while I was telling my story, Mrs. Hearn sat, nodding her head. I got a little heat for not calling the police before I went out on my own to look for the body, and I apologized for that. I said Camnitz had been acting odd lately, and before I called in the police on him, I thought I ought to make sure he hadn’t gone over the edge and was having delusions.”