The Todd Dossier

by Robert Bloch

  Dr. Geiger had given permission, he said, and we would leave within a few days. First a private nursing staff must be properly briefed and instructed, but we could expect to return with them to the lodge for the holidays. And then later, as he had promised, we would go to Sardinia. A matter of some months, perhaps in the spring of the coming year. “I’ll be back on my feet by Easter,” he said, “and so will the business.”

  It was strange for me to hear this because Hollis never discussed such matters in my presence. In all our time together I cannot remember another occasion. But on this evening after dinner, sitting alone with him in the room, he spoke about Todd Enterprises. Not directly, he did not go into any detail, but enough for me to realize there had been some problems. A matter of stock transactions during the period of his illness, a threat to certain areas of control. Crosby had done his best, he said, but more was required now. Why did he tell me this, I asked Hollis. Why did he concern himself with business when all that really counted was his health, our being together in the way we planned? A question of pride, he told me. It had taken thirty years to become the head of Todd Enterprises, in a very real sense he was Todd Enterprises. To abandon the business now would be to abandon a part of himself.

  I told Hollis I understood this. I told him I would abide by his decisions in the future as I had in the past. As if he didn’t already know this, but there are times when it is best if such things are spoken. I had the feeling that Hollis wished to say more to me, but there was no opportunity because Crosby came into the room. Crosby looked tired. He had been away during the day making the necessary arrangements for leaving and he said if I would excuse him he wanted to go over the preparations with Hollis. I left the two of them together.

  Continued Extract From the Statement of Charles Everett, M.D.

  I’d promised Natalie I wouldn’t do anything foolish, and I kept my word. The trouble was, while I didn’t do anything foolish, I didn’t do anything constructive either. There wasn’t anything I could see that would be constructive under the circumstances, so I did nothing. That was the worst of it. Doing nothing, just going through the motions, the daily routine, as though everything was back to normal.

  I almost said something the next day, when Geiger called me in to tell me Todd was going home. I guess I looked shocked, even though I tried to cool it, because he went out of his way to explain the reasons for giving his permission. How he was setting up a regimen for the private nursing team to follow, the arrangements he made for a continuing daily check-out through the staff of the Cramer Clinic near Todd’s home. He thought he was reassuring me. I wanted to tell him to forget it, this wasn’t the kind of reassurance I needed. But Natalie was right. I couldn’t prove anything, and I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t easy. Particularly now that I knew Todd was leaving the hospital. In a few days he’d be gone and life would go on just as it had before he came, for all of us. All of us except Tony Polanski.

  I kept thinking about that. Not because I wanted to but because I couldn’t put it out of my mind. Not that day, not that night, not the next morning. Natalie knew, of course. She took me out for another look at the house that afternoon and we decided to make a definite offer to the realtor. All we talked about was terms and payments and what we’d have to do in the way of furniture. She was excited about the idea and I did my best to go along with her. But all the while I kept going back to Polanski and even though I didn’t say a word she knew.

  By the time we stopped by the realty office and signed a purchase offer it was too late for dinner. I had to get over to the hospital before seven so we went to a drive-in for a hamburger. You don’t decide to buy a house every day and normally it would call for some kind of celebration. But I wasn’t in the mood so the drive-in was a good idea. We talked some more about the house—that is, she talked and I tried to look as if I was listening—and that was it. I drove back to the apartment and let her out. She still hadn’t said anything about what was bugging me, and all she said now was would I call her from the hospital before eleven. I told her I would. I waited until I saw she was safely inside the lobby and then I took off. I must have gone about half a mile before I realized I was being followed.

  Q. Followed?

  A. That’s right. I saw the car in the rear-view mirror. It was about half a block behind me, and at first I didn’t think anything of it, except that it somehow looked familiar. Then I realized I’d seen it before. Back at the apartment, when I dropped Natalie off, the same car had been parked across the street. A green ’69 Pontiac Le Mans. I remembered its headlights switching on just as I started to drive away. I hadn’t paid any attention, it’s just one of those things you notice automatically when you’re driving, and I hadn’t seen it turn around. But it was there behind me now.

  Q. You knew it was the same car?

  A. Not at that moment. But when I got into the right lane and waited for the green light to make a turn onto the freeway ramp, the Le Mans pulled into the same lane, two cars behind me. It could still be coincidence of course. Even if it was the same car, that didn’t necessarily mean I was being followed. So I decided to find out. The light changed, but instead of turning to go up the ramp I went straight ahead, under the freeway crossing. The two cars behind me made the normal turn onto the ramp. The Le Mans followed me.

  Q. Did you get a look at its occupant?

  A. That was my first idea. I slowed down, waiting for it to pull ahead. Instead it pulled over to the curb and parked. I couldn’t see who was in it. And now that it had parked I wasn’t all that concerned. Figuring the state of my nerves, I’d made a mistake. I picked up speed again and turned right at the next corner. I got a good look at the car as I turned and it was still standing there at the curb.

  Q. You went on to the hospital then?

  A. Yes. I drove to the hospital. Instead of going back to the freeway I decided to take Riverside and then cut over. Traffic was fairly light for that time of evening and if I’d been followed I would have noticed. I didn’t see anything. By the time I pulled into my space in the reserved parking lot I knew it had just been my imagination. I was just getting out of the car when I happened to glance over towards the street. I saw it moving past the driveway entrance. A green ’69 Le Mans. It didn’t turn in, didn’t stop. But I saw it and I knew. Whoever was driving had decided where I’d be going and taken a different route to check my destination.

  Q. That was your interpretation?

  A. There was only one other possibility occurring to me. That I was really paranoid, seeing things. Either way, I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all.

  Extract From the Statement of Darnell London

  Well, it was the funniest damn’ thing. Must have been around nine o’clock, maybe ten after, if the time is important to you. Like I said, the word was out that Todd was going to leave tomorrow noon and Rosen—that’s Georgia Rosen, she’s one of the R.N.’s with the heart team—sent me down to 326 to pick up a dupe file copy of Todd’s surgery report—326, that’s Dr. Everett’s office. Well, he wasn’t there, the door was locked, but I had my keys. Attendants aren’t supposed to use keys on duty rounds unless it’s an emergency, but Rosen told me she’d talked to Everett and he said he had the file copy on his desk waiting for her. So I figured why not just go ahead and pick it up instead of chasing all over the place trying to locate Everett on the intercom. There’s a requisition form to sign but that could wait ’til later.

  Anyhow that’s what I did, I opened the door and walked in. Sure enough, I could see the file folder on the desk, so I didn’t even have to turn on the lights, just went over and reached down to pick it up. And I hear this voice, this whisper, almost, right behind me, saying “Dr. Everett?” Well, coming so unexpected like, I almost jumped out of my skin. I turned around real fast and I see this woman standing there.

  Q. Can you describe her please.

  A. Well, no, not really. Like I say, I didn’t turn on any lights and the door to the hall was only part-way open
. Dark hair, maybe five-five or -six, wearing a suit. I did notice she was holding a purse in her left hand and it was open. At least I got that impression, but it was pretty hard to make out anything clearly and I guess that’s how come she made the mistake. I mean, just walking into the office and seeing me bending over the desk in a white jacket, she figured I was the doctor. But when I turned around my face was in the light from the hall and she knew I wasn’t Everett even before I told her.

  Q. You did speak to her?

  A. I started to. But the minute I turned around she said, “Excuse me,” and then she reached down and snapped that purse shut with her right hand. I didn’t have a chance to say a word before she was marching out into the hall. I said, “Hey lady, wait a minute,” but she kept right on going like she didn’t hear me. I picked up the file folder and walked over to the door, but when I looked out into the hall she was gone.

  Continued Extract From the Statement of Georgia Rosen, R.N.

  . . . I couldn’t make heads or tails out of what Darnell told me. He was all shook up, but then Darnell’s the type who makes a big production out of everything. The way I heard, it was just some woman barging in looking for Dr. Everett. But to hear him tell it, you’d think she tried to rape him—not that she’d have much luck, not with Darnell. Sorry. He’s a nice kid, but a little too—anyway, I told him to forget it. If I notified Security it would just mean a lot of fuss over nothing, what business did he have unlocking the office to get that file in the first place, where was the requisition, all that static. And when you came right down to it, what had really happened? So he gave me the file and left.

  Q. You were still on duty outside Mr. Todd’s suite?

  A. I was on the desk all evening. I was there when Mr. McCullen went in and Mrs. Veillier came out. I was there when Mr. McCullen came out again.

  Q. At what time was this?

  A. Right after Darnell left. I’d say about nine-thirty. Mr. McCullen came out and stopped by the desk to tell me he’d be in first thing tomorrow morning. He started to explain something about setting up a reception for Mr. Todd and that we’d all be notified. Just then a call came through on the board and I excused myself while I took it—I honestly don’t remember who it was and it doesn’t matter. But while I was talking to the party I happened to look down the corridor just as this couple stepped out of the elevator, some man and woman I’d never seen before. Mr. McCullen saw them too. He started walking over to them, fast, and I got the idea he was upset before he even spoke to them.

  Q. You overheard their conversation?

  A. Just a word here and there. I was on the phone, remember? And Mr. McCullen was keeping his voice down. But he didn’t have to say anything at all for me to know he wanted them out of there. He kept punching the elevator button with one hand and pulling at the man’s arm with the other. And when the elevator came, he almost shoved them inside. I think he did shove the man. All the while the woman kept trying to say something to him, and Mr. McCullen had to raise his voice over the sound of the elevator door closing. What he said sounded like, “Go back and stay put, I’ll be in touch later.” And then the door closed.

  Continued Extract From the Statement of Eva Veillier

  . . . I came back to the hospital after I finished packing at the hotel. It was still early and I thought I might have a few minutes alone with Hollis before he went to sleep. It was when the car pulled up to the entrance that I saw Crosby coming out of the hospital. He did not see me because he was talking to these people who walked with him, a man and a woman. He went with them to where their car was parked, a green car, and he stood waiting until they drove away. I watched from just inside the lobby entrance, thinking he would be coming back. But Crosby did not come back. He walked over to his own car, the Continental. I do not know why I continued to watch him except that there was something at the back of my mind which disturbed me. It was not until he had driven off that it came to me, about the couple he talked with. The woman I had never seen before, but now I recognized the man. He was the one who had been involved in the accident, the one I saw at the cemetery. I could not recall his name. Just then I noticed Dr. Everett pass through the lobby from the administration offices. He was going to the elevators and I joined him there. I told him what I had just seen and asked if he happened to remember the man. Dr. Everett said yes, he remembered him very well. His name was Sandoz.

  Continued Extract From the Statement of Charles Everett, M.D.

  . . . So I wasn’t seeing things. They had been here, at the hospital, Sandoz and his wife, in a green car. Veillier saw them. The attendant, Darnell London, saw Mrs. Sandoz in my office.

  Q. How did you learn this?

  A. I’m coming to it. Mrs. Veillier and I rode up in the elevator together. She expressed surprise at seeing the Sandozes here. I told her perhaps they had stopped by to inquire about Todd. She said that was thoughtful of them and when she saw Todd now she’d mention their visit. I suggested she refrain from doing so because it was still possible that any reference to the accident might be disturbing to him. Pretty clumsy, but all I could come up with on the spur of the moment. Anyway, she bought it. People listen to doctors, God help them. So she went on in to Todd and I stayed at the desk. Rosen said she’d like a word with me.

  That’s how it came out. Rosen wanted to explain why Darnell London was in my office. She knew it was irregular procedure and hoped I’d sign the requisition form without making waves. I told her it was my fault, I should have mentioned to her on the phone that I was leaving the office to check out the rest of Todd’s paper work down at Administration. Then she mentioned the part about London and the woman. Did I know who she was?

  I didn’t, of course, but I had a pretty good idea. I asked her if London had given any description. Rosen said yes and started to tell me and then she stopped. What’s the matter, I said. She told me it had just struck her—from the description it sounded like the same woman she’d seen getting off the elevator with a man who knew Crosby McCullen.

  Q. She told you about the incident?

  A. In detail. Rosen’s a good nurse but she’s got a mouth big enough to house a fleet of semis. Hears all, tells all. Staff routine is pretty boring and I can’t blame them, they get this thing about scuttlebutt. Well, this was one time it was an advantage. I think she had an idea there was something going between me and this woman because she was only too happy to answer questions and see how I’d react. I asked her about the conversation between this couple and Crosby McCullen. She couldn’t remember very much. She thought these people might be Mexican. McCullen had said something about where they were staying and the man said with Pedro. And then when McCullen asked about a motel, the woman shook her head. She mentioned a name, Archer or Harper, Rosen wasn’t sure—anyway, some man had given them a sombrero. That’s why Rosen thought maybe they were Mexican, only what she heard didn’t seem to make much sense.

  I told her no, it didn’t, and the best thing was to forget it. Just the way I was going to forget the little matter of Darnell London using his key to get into my office. She didn’t have to have it spelled out for her. When I left I knew she’d keep her mouth buttoned.

  Q. Where did you go then?

  A. To my office. I went in and looked around. Nothing had been disturbed. I sat down and tried to put the pieces together. Some of them seemed to fit. The Sandozes made sure I was at the hospital and then they came looking for me. First in my office, then upstairs. McCullen spotted them and hustled them out. They went away. He went away. But why had they come? And where did they go? That’s the part that didn’t make sense. And I couldn’t find out the why until I knew the answer to where.

  Mexicans, Rosen said. Because they were staying with Pedro. How many Mexican-Americans named Pedro are there in Greater Los Angeles? And how could I even be sure it was Los Angeles? There are plenty of Pedros in San Diego, Redondo, Long Beach.

  I got a crazy hunch then. Suppose Rosen heard wrong? Suppose the man hadn’t said they
were staying with Pedro, but in Pedro? Pedro, that’s what they call San Pedro around here. All right, then what? McCullen asked about a motel and the woman shook her head. And then she’d told him something about this Archer or Harper giving them a sombrero.

  That didn’t fit. That didn’t fit at all, because it didn’t answer the question. Or did it?

  I picked up the phone and dialed Information. I told the operator what I wanted to know and she got it for me. There was an Archer Charter Service in San Pedro. They even had an ad in the Yellow Pages. Boats by the day, week or month. Of course the place was closed now but she had a home number listing on Archer and I asked her to call. I talked to Archer. He told me yes, he did have a boat called the Sombrero. And he’d rented it out to a couple day before yesterday, only the name wasn’t Sandoz, it was Sanders.

  So I called downstairs and said I wasn’t feeling too well and could Nunnally take over for me until the morning shift. Then I called Natalie at the apartment, just before eleven. She wanted to know if I was all right and I told her yes, I was fine, everything was fine, and she should get a good night’s rest. Doctor’s orders.

  Then I checked out and got into my car and headed for the Harbor Freeway.

  Continued Excerpt From the Diary of Natalie Everett

  Under Dateline December 7

  We put an offer on the house today. Mr. Davis thinks we’ll get it. He said we could probably arrange to take over the present mortgage and at 6¼ percent it would be a good deal. I told Charlie if we did I’d want to go in and take measurements of all the rooms before we started looking for furniture. The carpeting and drapes in there now ought to be good for at least two more years. I don’t much care for beige but it’s practical because it goes with everything. Charlie said he’d leave that part of it up to me.

  From the way he’s been acting these past two days you’d think he didn’t care whether we got the house or not. All I can get out of him is yes or no, he just can’t seem to get interested. But he does care, I know he does. It’s only that his mind is a million miles away. He promised not to talk about it anymore and he hasn’t, but I know that’s what he’s thinking about. There’s still something wrong—