Elise returned with Frank Wilder to his law office to wait for the 5 p.m. deadline so that she might receive the money the court had told Dr. Ipswich to bring to Frank Wilder's office.
She was anxious but hopeful that Jennifer Ipswich would obey the court's order and deliver the money fully and on time.
Frank Wilder provided a new office inside his law firm complex where Elise could stretch out on a small couch and sleep while she waited. She did just that, and soon it was five o'clock in the afternoon. Wilder had come for her and taken her to his office to anticipate the delivery of the several million dollars from Dr. Ipswich.
At 5:15 p.m., Attorney Wilder excused himself and went out to the reception desk for a word with the receptionist. He came back with a white envelope, business size, and a smile on his face. He sat down at his desk across from Elise and said, “Ready?"
"Ready," said Elise.
Wilder used his letter opener to slice the seam on the letter. He reached inside and pulled out a cashier's check for $15,000. Along with the check was a note that said, I believe this is all that I owe. I think that the court was wrong. You will have to take me to court for the full-blown hearing to get another dime out of me. Sincerely, Jennifer Ipswich, MD.
Tears washed into Elise's eyes as she realized what happened.
"Can she do this? Can she get away with this? What are we going to do?"
"Hell, no, she can't get away with this! I'm going to call the court in the morning and report this fraud and jerk her ass back into court."
"Oh, my God, I'm flying out at seven o'clock to return to Paris and my baby girl tonight. You know she's in the hospital, and I have no option except to go. Please tell me I don't have to be there for court tomorrow."
"No, you're good to go. There’ll be no need for you to attend court. I can take care of it without your presence."
“Am I—Am I going to get my money, or is this going to drag on even longer now?"
"I'm afraid it's going to take more time. These things have a habit of going south when something like this happens. I'm going to have to beat this woman down several times before she becomes sweetly reasonable. I can tell you that I can get it done, but I can also tell you that it will take some time. No, you fly back to Paris tonight and take care of your little girl, and I'll take care of court tomorrow. You take the fifteen-thousand.
“I already changed my reservations once today. The airline won’t let me do it again without charging me. I have to go tonight.”
“So be it. I agree.”
39
Verona
"I'm going to kill that woman if it's the last thing I do," swore Jennifer Ipswich at her late afternoon meeting with Dr. Gresham. "Please don't run out and tattle on me. I'm only blowing off steam, but I would like to see that bitch dead. And that lawyer of hers—what a jerk-off. Every time he wipes his ass, he charges me three-hundred dollars for it. How can people like that even sleep at night? I work myself silly each day with a couple of hundred runny noses in my office. I earn my money the old-fashioned way: I work. Guys like that need to be taken down. I've gotten to the point in this litigation where I'm about to pick up a gun and end it myself. Can you really blame me?"
Verona Gresham studied Jennifer and her expressions and tone of voice. She was trying to judge whether she was hearing the usual rants of an upset patient or whether she heard threats that she would be required to report to the authorities before they happened. She decided to test further. "What would happen if Elise were dead? Would all of your problems be solved?"
"I think so. At least those greedy fingers would be out of my bank accounts and not trying to sell my house."
"Yes, but if she's dead, she leaves behind a little girl who would have the same claims against your estate as she does. Would you be willing to kill the little girl, too?"
"I hadn't thought about her. I hadn't thought that she could be just as difficult for me as her mother. In all honesty, she's a child, and my training and oath is to protect children. I don't know what I would do in that circumstance."
"I think what I was looking to hear was that you would have no animosity toward the little girl. I do not hear that, and so your words are frightening me. I'm wondering whether I should call the authorities and warn them about you. What would you do if you were me?"
Jennifer shook her head violently. "Pure nonsense! When the day comes that I can't come into my shrink's office and blow off some steam, then that's the day we might as well all take out a gun and go after our enemies. Dr. Gresham, what I'm saying here is said to make me feel better. It's not actual threats against these people. Nor do I want you to put my comments in my chart. If something bad happens to Elise Ipswich, and if my comments were in my chart and anyone got possession of it, they might come after me. Please be sensible and just put in your notes that your client was distraught and very angry at what the court had done to her. Can we agree on that?"
"I think we can as long as you can confirm with me that you don't have it in your heart or mind to follow through on any of your threats. I think we can keep what you've been saying anonymous and not worry about you killing anyone. I think I'm willing to take that chance with you. You’re a medical professional, and I know you understand what my exposure is here. I won't turn you in, and you won't kill anyone. Is that our agreement?"
"That is exactly our agreement. Thank you."
Dr. Gresham didn't respond. She was busy making notes about her patient, who was very honest and upset. That was the extent of what she entered into the patient chart, and after the patient was gone, she did not lift her phone.
For Dr. Gresham, it was over and done.
Just another patient, mad as hell, but manageable.
40
Elise
Many hours later, Elise’s airplane touched down in Paris, and she frantically made her way to the hospital where her daughter was being treated. She was exhausted; the flight had taken almost ten hours with an unexpected layover in London. Still, Elise was determined to see Çidde and planned on spending the day in her daughter's hospital room in the chair beside her bed.
The hospital was Day Hospital Marie Abadie on rue Raymond Losserand, a taxi ride of twenty minutes from the Ipswich home. Elise noted on the ride that she had reverted to an old teenage habit of biting the cuticle on her fingers as a way of suppressing her anxiety. She jerked her hand away from her mouth and scolded herself as she looked out the window at the passing cityscape. You can do better than this, she told herself. You owe it to your daughter not to regress but to be the adult in the room in all respects.
She arrived at the hospital, paid the taxi driver, and ran for the elevators. Five minutes later, she entered her daughter's room and found her six-year-old sitting up with a children’s picture book. Elise's mother, Sarah Milam, was sitting up in the chair beside Çidde’s bed, and she turned to Elise when she came into the room and all but burst into tears. But rather than cry in front of the little girl, she kept on a brave face.
"Oh, Elise, we are so glad to see you. Çidde needs to hear one of your stories before she closes her eyes tonight for her sleep. Çidde was wondering where you were. Here, let me get up and change places with you so that you can get right here beside her and hold her little hand."
"Darling," Elise said gently to her daughter, "Mom is here now, and everything is going to be okay."
"Why isn't daddy here? He was my doctor before.”
"You know your daddy isn't here. Daddy had to go to heaven and see his own mommy and daddy. One day, you and I will be there with him. But that is a long, long time from now. For now, we’re going to stay with you until you get well and make sure you're ready to go home as fast as possible."
A half-hour later, the little girl was sleeping, and Elise's mother had left to return to her home. Elise remembered the manila folder she had taken from Michael Gresham's table in the courtroom. Now, she pulled the folder out and started reading. She hadn't gotten very far before realizi
ng she had taken the medical records that belonged to Jennifer Ipswich from when she was a much younger woman, evidently living in San Diego, California. Elise read on.
Twenty minutes later, she folded the manila folder closed and put it back inside her bag. She was stunned. She had learned that Jennifer Ipswich had suffered psychotic episodes while she was in her first year of medical school and after. She was treated by a doctor in San Diego and took medications to treat her psychosis and bipolar disorder.
Elise had suspected as much from the very start.
It answered a world of questions for her.
41
Karrol
After speaking with her terrorist cell and rehearsing her role, Karrol left the safe house with a satchel charge with explosives, fuse, and an igniter.
She took a circuitous route through Paris's back streets, spending almost a full hour making sure she wasn't being followed before arriving at rue Dumont.
She located the front stoop of the flat where Elise lived with her daughter. Just as she was about to duck into the bushes and attach the satchel charge to the bottom of the building, a carload of partygoers pulled up in front, and all four doors opened.
They had been drinking and were loud—two men and two women—laughing and calling out to someone in the flat above Elise's. An upstairs window opened, and a woman leaned out. "You're going to have to stop with the noise,” she called down in a sweet voice, “else someone along here is going to call the gendarme. Trust me. You don't want that. Our local constabulary takes disturbance of the peace quite seriously, and you might even find yourselves going to jail if you keep this up. Why don't you all come inside, and I'll make coffee?"
The larger of the foursome, a black man wearing a blue suit and an orange Fedora, called back up to the woman. "Sasha, get on down here, girl. We are going to party like there's no tomorrow, and we aren’t coming inside your place to get it on."
Karrol waited patiently while this interchange played back and forth. She pressed back against the bushes two doors down, hidden from anyone passing by.
There were a few people out strolling the sidewalks, a few dog walkers, and an ancient man pushing his walker down the middle of the street, hunched forward, muttering to himself as he made his way. That's all right, old man, thought Karrol. We should all be so determined at that age.
Karrol had just settled in to wait out the others when a second male voice called to the first. "Hey, everyone, Sasha, who is the girl standing in the bushes?"
Karrol stepped back farther, hoping to hide from prying eyes. However, she had been found out, and the two men started toward her to investigate.
She then came charging out of the bushes and ran down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. As she ran, the satchel charge banged against her lower back, and she cursed her bad fortune. She was going to have to wait for another night and could only hope they hadn't been able to make out her face in the low light. She also hoped they wouldn't make a report to the police that she had been there. That would call unwanted attention on her and her future efforts.
In the flat beneath Sasha's, Elise Ipswich turned on her side in bed. She heard the voices outside and heard the laughter. She did not hear the woman running away down the street and had no idea why she had been outside two doors down from her window.
That night, the woman with the satchel did not return. Instead, she returned to her terrorist cell, and it was decided they would try to get closer to Elise with some poison or knife, away from other people.
Karrol decided she would force her way into Elise’s flat and stab her.
42
The Ritz
"Legend has it Hemingway drank fifty-one martinis in a row to celebrate France's victory over Germany in World War Two," Jennifer Ipswich said to Elise Ipswich.
At Jennifer's invitation, they had agreed to meet at Bar Hemingway, the 25-seat bar in the Ritz Hotel in Paris at 15 place Vendôme.
Jennifer had told Michael she was going to settle the case for herself. She also told Michael that Elise had agreed to meet with her only because Jennifer had promised they would "work out" their differences over a martini. She said Elise would leave with a check in her pocket for the $1 million she was seeking, having signed a release and given up her interest in all other Ipswich assets of the American marriage.
Elise looked up from her leather chair at the sidebar and its sweeping leather booth, overseen by the wall-hanging jaws of two sharks, open and ready to inhale whatever sweet mischief came their way.
Elise had never been able to afford the Bar Hemingway on her own, although Joe had taken her there for a celebratory drink on their first anniversary. She remembered that he’d had to call ahead and pull some strings to reserve a small table for two at 8 o'clock that night. She had worn her Givenchy suit since it had been cool out that night, and the middleweight wool held the night air at bay perfectly. The suit had been given to her by Joe, and she still had it hanging in her closet inside its garment bag. Likewise, Joe had worn his matching Givenchy suit, but no one else had seemed to notice. It was a night of fun and romance. His suit was in his closet, untouched since his death, looking forlorn and useless. So, meeting with Jennifer, she had good feelings about the place, although her feelings about the company were less-than.
Commenting on Jennifer's claim about Hemingway and his 51 martinis, Elise said, "I'm afraid Mr. Hemingway has left me in the dust. After one martini, I get silly, and we don't want me silly. Certainly not on a night like tonight when we’re about to resolve our differences finally. I can't thank you enough for calling me and offering me this opportunity, Jennifer. Somehow, deep down, I feel like Joseph is pulling strings to bring us together. I know he wouldn't have wanted us to fight and argue. Like I said some time ago, I hope that our children will become friends, and perhaps even family."
Jennifer nodded and slowly turned the stem of her martini glass between two fingers. "I have to agree. My husband would've wanted to see us succeed at what we’re about to do tonight. And like you, I do hope Joe's children can get to know one another and maybe even visit each other during the summertime vacations away from school. I want you to know that I'm here to make a settlement with you out of a feeling of duty to Joe. When he was dying, his instructions to me were to give you one-half of the life insurance policy. I'm embarrassed to say I’ve struggled with his wish. But it's only because I’ve been so upset and unsure which way to turn once I found out he had taken a second wife. I didn't grow up that way, where men did things like that, and neither did Joe.”
“Of course not. Same with me.”
“I'm still in a state of shock, so bear with me as I work my way through my feelings. Also, I've had to work my way through the finances and see how I believed the apportionment of Joe's assets should happen. I want you to know that when I’ve previously said I contributed most of the amounts to the bank accounts, it was true. For the past fifteen years, Joe has been spending half his time in Chicago and half his time in Paris. I know that he preferred Chicago, sometimes, and he preferred Paris, sometimes. I can only conclude that he felt the same way about his two wives. Sometimes me, sometimes you. It still hurts, however."
"Goodness, I really appreciate your frankness. It's too bad we couldn't have done this sooner without all the lawyers and stuff. I hate going to court, and I hate how I feel when I argue and fight about money. I only want to make you believe that I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Çidde. Sadly, she was born with that blood deficiency. They told us it was that transfusion that was infected, and that's when she became HIV-positive."
"It happens. Blood is never one-hundred-percent pure."
"Well, whatever, it's all said and done now."
"One thing I wondered… Doesn't France have socialized medicine to pay for your daughter's needs?"
"France is somewhat different. You must have health insurance coverage to live in France. State healthcare in France is not free. Healthcare costs are covered by both the sta
te and through patient contributions. The French national insurance fund, Caisse Primaire d'Assurance Maladie, will then repay you for part of the costs later."
Jennifer nodded. "I think I'm beginning to see. So, it's the upfront cost that is more than you can bear, even though you will be reimbursed on the backend. That makes your situation much clearer to me."
“Now you understand. The reimbursement can take up to eight weeks, and by then, I might have eight thousand paid in for Çidde’s injections.”
“But why are the injections so expensive? One thousand euros a week?”
Elise took a sip of her martini before she answered. “It’s true, you can get cheaper medicine, but as a physician, Joe only wanted the best for Çidde. So she has never received any generic medicine or any treatment that wasn’t the best. I won’t change that now.”
“I see,” said Jennifer.
“It has been a nightmare since Joe died. I borrowed from my mother, my brother, even one of my friends from work has loaned me one thousand euros. I must get these people paid back as they need their money. I really hope against hope that we can finally settle tonight, and I can put this all behind me. Jennifer, I'm not only financially exhausted but emotionally exhausted, too. I miss Joe, I cry myself to sleep at night, I don't sleep but maybe two hours, and I wake up exhausted with burning eyes, facing another day at a very high-pressure job. So tonight means everything to me. For the love of God, let's make it work. I'm ready now to sign whatever you need me to sign."
Jennifer reached down on the seat beside her and opened her bag. She pulled out a folded document and handed it to Elise. "Please read and sign. When you hand it back to me signed, I will give you the check. Right now, I'm placing the check on the table between us and ask you to pick it up and look at it and make sure it's filled out properly and in the amount of one-million dollars. The bank should give you the foreign exchange on this value. It’s your half of the insurance money.”
Girl, Under Oath (Michael Gresham Series) Page 14
