F Paul Wilson - Secret History 02 (40 page)

           
"One copy of each! Quick!"
he said, puffing.

           
Jesus,
I'm out of shape!

           
The man behind the counter gave him
a sidelong look, but made up the copies and charged him four bucks plus tax. Ed
had a five ready. He slapped it down, told him to keep the change, then
sprinted back to the Kramer building.

           
He took the elevator up to allow him
to catch his breath, then strolled back into Dr. Gates' office. The
receptionist looked relieved to see him.

           
"Here y'are, sweetheart.
Ev'ryting works fine. No problemo."

           
"Thank you," she said, her
cool and distant manner returning.

           
Now came the fun part of his plan:
the psych-out. If he left too fast she might start wondering about him. So Ed
had decided to make her
want
him to
leave.

           
"Say, y'doin' anyting
tonight?"

           
"Yes."

           
"How about t'morra?"

           
"Sorry, but I'm involved."

           
"Yeah, well, hey, I'm involved,
too, but dat don' mean we can't go out an have a lil fun, if know what I
mean."

           
"I'm
very
involved, now if you'll—"

           
He held up his hands.

           
"Hey, sorree!"

           
Just then the door marked
"Consultation" opened and a middle-aged man stepped out.

           
"Hiya, doc," Ed said.

           
"That is
not
Dr. Gates," the receptionist said. "Now, will you
please leave?"

           
"Cert'nly. But how 'bout I drop
by 'roun' five and we'll get a drink somewheres? Howzat soun'?"

           
She ignored him.

           
Shrugging dramatically, and with a
great show of reluctance, Ed picked up his toolbox and left. He strolled to the
elevator. The car that came for him was empty. When the doors closed and he was
alone, he began to laugh. He leaned back and held his fists up to heaven.

           
"You did it, you clever
bastard, you! You fucking-ay
did
it!"

           
His heart was pounding, he was
bathed in sweat, but he'd never felt so alive in his life. And the best part
about it all was that it had been
fun!
Jesus! He'd almost be willing to do this sort of thing for a living!

           
The car stopped on the second floor
and he straightened up. An old lady with a walker came in, assisted by a
younger woman. Ed tried to look serious, but he felt too good. He rode the rest
of the way down grinning like an idiot and jingling the two brand new keys in
his pocket.

           
But the grinning and jingling came
to an abrupt, panicky halt when the elevator doors opened on the lobby and he
saw Kara waiting outside. For an instant Ed couldn't breathe, couldn't move,
then he noticed that she wasn't looking his way. Her eyes were down, her face
pale, her expression blank. Her mind looked to be a million miles away.

           
Ed wasn't going to wait for her to
look up. He hoisted the tool box onto his shoulder, blocking his face from
Kara, then he pushed past the old lady, almost knocking her over, and hurried
for the street, never looking back until he was a block away.

           
And all along the way, he thought of
Kara. She looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. He had
to find a way to help her, and he was convinced a clue to doing that lay in Dr.
Gates' office.

           
Well, he'd find out for sure
tonight.

           
He was actually looking forward to
that.

           
"I have spoken to the patient
who sent you the note," Dr. Gates was saying, "and I can assure you,
he will never bother you again."

           
Kara tried to ignore the lie about
the "him" behind the letter, telling herself it was just Dr. Gates'
way of protecting patient confidentiality.

           
She nodded without really listening.
She had other things on her mind. Another erotic dream, for instance. She
didn't remember much besides a cowboy hat… and Dr. Gates' presence.

           
She yawned behind her hand.

           
That was another thing. She was so
tired
lately. Maybe it was because of
the dreams, maybe it was because she hadn't been able to workout all week. Or
maybe the Halcion was staying in her system.

           
Still, she didn't dare stop it
because it seemed to be doing the job. The apartment key had been right where
she had hidden it. She'd even tied a strand of her hair around it last night,
and the strand was still in place this morning. So, if nothing else, she could
be sure she hadn't left the apartment last night.

           
Rob had stopped by first thing this
morning. He looked exhausted. He said he had another stake out tonight so he
wouldn't be able to stay over.

           
Just as well. Kara intended to hit
the sack early tonight.
Very
early.

           
Lieutenant Mooney had the Kelly Wade
folder on his lap as he slumped in the swivel chair behind his desk. He was
whining again.

           
"Why are you doing this,
Harris?"

           
"I'm not
doing
anything, lieu. I'm just telling you that there's new
evidence in the Kelly Wade case and it's got to stay open."

           
"That's a kook letter! It
doesn't count!"

           
"It's addressed to Kara Wade
and says, in effect, get out of town or wind up dead like your sister. Where I
come from, that's a threat. And it may mean that Kelly Wade herself was
threatened before she died."

           
Rob watched Mooney mull that,
watched him try to find a way to make an end run around it, watched him give
up.

           
"Damn it, Harris. Okay. So what
are we doing with this 'threatening' note?"

           
"It's down in fingerprints now.
We got a set from the victim's sister yesterday, and we found a set of Dr. Gates'
from when he registered for a handgun in 1980. Both of those are all over the
bill and the check. But they've picked up a third set. That's the one we're
running down now."

           
"And when that comes up as
blank as the set from the hotel room, what're you going to do?"

           
"I'm going to start shaking Dr.
Gates' tree and see if any rotten apples fall out."

           
"Okay," Mooney sighed.
"But make sure you do it all legal like. Make sure all your paperwork is
done. I don't want no harassment calls from this shrink."

           
"Right, lieu. But I know you'll
be behind me a hundred percent if he does call, right?"

           
Mooney tossed the file across the
desk.

           
"Oh, yeah."

           
Rob glanced at his watch. If he
hurried his afternoon paper shuffle he could be down by Gates' office in time
to start following him again. The guy had to go someplace besides his office
and his home.

           
"
Time to move
," Ed thought, but he didn't move.

           
He had the jitters now. It was one
thing to pull a fast one on a receptionist. It was something else entirely to
enter a locked building with a stolen key and rifle through the confidential
files of a state licensed physician. We weren't talking fun and games, here. We
were talking breaking and entering.

           
Ed had already put himself through
the man-or-mouse shit and had run the line about
A-man's-got-to-do-what-a-man's-got-to-do through his head at least a thousand
times by now. It didn't help. But he was going to goddamn do it or never be
able to look at himself in the mirror again.

           
Taking his coffee with him, he got
up from his window seat at the all night Burger King on Twenty-third Street and
headed for the door.

           
B
and E time.

           
" He walked down Seventh
Avenue. He was still dressed in his overalls, but beneath them he wore khaki
slacks and a flannel shirt—in case he had to run and needed a quick change of
appearance. He'd left his tool box at home. All the tools he needed were the
keys in his right pocket and the flashlight in his left.

           
He slowed as he passed Barney's,
checking the window displays—he preferred Brooks Brothers—and stopped short of
the Kramer building. What if someone spotted him going in, or questioned him?
What would he do then?

           
First off, he wouldn't worry about
it. And if he was stopped, he'd just say he was Dr. Gates and hope whoever it
was didn't know the doctor by sight.

           
Ed glanced around. No one in sight.
He hurried up to the lobby door with the key ready, hoping it was the right
one, and thrust it into the lock. It fit. It turned. He pulled it open and
scooted inside. He didn't bother with the elevator—that would mean standing
where he was visible from the street—but went directly to the stairs. His mouth
was dry as sand by the time he reached Dr. Gates' office door. He didn't allow
himself to pause and think. He used the second key and opened the door. If
anyone was inside he'd say he was part of the cleaning crew and would come back
later.

           
Dark inside except for the glow from
the fishtank and the blip on the computer screen. And quiet. He closed the
office door behind him, turned the bolt.

           
Made
it!

           
He felt weak. He had to take a pee.
He wanted to turn around and get out of here. But that would have been stupid
after coming this far and taking all these risks. No turning back now. He
pulled out his flashlight and began his search.