With police sirens blaring, Maura walkedaway from the medical center. In less than a block, half a dozen cruisers hadscreamed past her. Loudspeakers were blaring, and a number of uniformedpolicemen were sprinting toward the street circumscribing the medical center.
She was two blocks from the hospital whenshe finally felt safe stopping to call Harry. She phoned the office first. MaryTobin was there, and Harry had had no further patients and had left for homehalf an hour before. He had told her he would be in the hospital at five,making evening rounds on his two in-patients.
'Mary, there's been some trouble at thehospital,' Maura said. 'I can't explain right now, but I suspect before toolong you'll get some details if you turn on the news. I think you ought toclose the office as soon as possible and go home.'
Mary was too wise, and had been throughtoo much in the past weeks, to ask for clarification.
'Whatever you say, child,' she said.
'Thanks for understanding,' Maura said.'Now, I've got to call Harry. Oh, by the way, the Max Garabedian you'll hearthem talking about on the news is Ray Santana.'
'Who?'
'Ray — I mean Walter Concepcion. We'll getback to you as soon as we can, Mary. Please go home. Get out of there now.'
Maura fished out another quarter andcalled the apartment. The machine answered.
'Harry, please it's me, Maura,' she said.'Harry, if you're listening, please pick up … Harry? …'
She was about to hang up when he came onthe line.
'Maura hi. Sorry to make you do that. I'mstill screening calls. But listen, we've had a break. Maybe a big one. I'll beheading into the hospital in just a few minutes to tell you and Ray about it.'
'Harry,' she said. 'I don't think I'd dothat if I were you. .'
Chapter35
By the time Maura reached the apartment,news bulletins of the crazed gunman at the Manhattan Medical Center werealready blanketing the airways. Max J. Garabedian, a forty-eight-year-old stockbroker,had quite suddenly charged from his hospital room wildly firing a gun down thehallway. Details were sketchy, but as yet no injuries had been reported. AndGarabedian, who was wearing blue pajamas and no shoes at the time, remained atlarge.
Furious at Santana, and as close to panicas Maura had ever seen him, Harry paced from one end of the apartment to theother, speaking as much to himself as to her.
'I shouldn't have trusted him. As soon ashe put those damn posters up I should have brushed him off like — like … Ihope he's okay. But right now I want to strangle him. I absolutely want tostrangle him … It must have been Perchek out there to upset him so. But whydidn't you spot him?. . The police could show up here any minute,Maura. Insurance fraud, attempted murder — who knows what else?. . Dickinsonwill have a field day with this one, a jubilee. . What in the hell am Isupposed to do now?'
The fiasco at the hospital wasn't the onlyserious development Harry had to deal with. He had only a short time left inwhich to make a decision that would cost him twenty-five thousand dollars — almost every bit of savings he had. Santana's meltdown had forced him into acorner. The police were certain to arrive at the apartment before long. If hewas going to accept the deal offered by a stranger on the phone, he had to makepreparations and leave before they came.
'Please sit, honey,' she said. 'Just for acouple of minutes. Sit and try to relax a little.'
She turned back to Channel 11. The reportswere varying widely from station to station, most of which were still rushingcrews over to the hospital. But Channel 11 and one other station had alreadyannounced that Garabedian's physician was Dr. Harry Corbett, still the chiefsuspect in the bizarre murder of his wife, Evelyn DellaRosa who had also been apatient at MMC.
Harry was concerned for what the real MaxGarabedian was about to go through. He had tried calling the school custodianat home, but got no answer. Almost certainly, the man was still at his job,although Harry had no idea at which school. Maura tried calling the Departmentof Education, but got no response there either.
'Only four-thirty and no one's there,' shesaid. 'No wonder so many kids in this town can't read.'
'I don't know what to do,' Harry said, forperhaps the tenth time. 'That guy is expecting me in New Jersey at nine. Thebank closes in another hour and fifteen minutes.' He started pacing again.'We've got to start moving and moving fast. The longer I wait, the more likelyit is the people at the bank will have learned that I'm in the news again. Asit is, I'm not sure how happy they're going to be about forking overtwenty-five thousand in cash. No matter what we decide, I've got to go and getthat money now. Then I don't think we can come back here.'
The call that had upped the ante bytwenty-five thousand dollars had come to the apartment around the same time RaySantana was shooting up Grey 2. When Harry arrived home from the office therewere two messages on his machine, neither of them any more promising than theseveral dozen others they had logged over the past four days. Thinking thatthis call might be the change-of-shift check-in from Maura, Harry preempted themachine.
'Hello?'
'Is this Dr. Harry Corbett?'
The voice was a man's, youngish tomiddle-aged, with an accent Harry couldn't place with certainty — possiblyGerman or Swiss.
'It is, Harry said.
'I am calling about the man in your posterand the fifty-thousand-dollar reward.'
Harry made a face and wished he had leftthe answering machine to do its job. Instead, he opened the log notebook andwrote in the time of the call.
'Go ahead,' he said. 'What hospital areyou with?'
'I am with no hospital,' the man said. 'Ilearned about the flyers and your reward from my employer.'
'And who is that?'
'The man in the poster. His initials areA.P. I will not speak his name over the phone. But you may already know it.'
Harry stiffened at the mention of TheDoctor's initials and immediately wondered if the caller could be Perchek,himself. But the voice was just too different from The Doctor's. Harry trieddesperately to think of any reason why he should deny knowing who Anton Perchekwas. Would he be giving anything away?
'Who are you?' he finally said.
'I handle security at his mansion and workas one of his bodyguards when he needs me to do so. I am on a pay phone rightnow. If you know A.P. at all, you know that he would not hesitate to kill me onthe spot for making this call.'
Harry had opened the spiral-bound notebookand was writing down as much of what the man was saying as possible.
'Go on,' he said.
'I wish to meet with you tonight and tomake an exchange. My information for your money.'
'How much money?'
'I do not intend to remain in this area oreven in this country after we meet. The Doctor and I have had some problemsbetween us. I have reason to believe he intends to kill me. I will settle forhalf of what you have offered. Twenty-five thousand in cash.'
'I don't have it.'
'Then get it. I will not negotiate anylower than that. Twenty-five thousand or no deal. In exchange, I will give youthe location of The Doctor's mansion and a recent photo of him taken withouthis knowledge. I will also tell you what security he has at the mansion. Thereyou will find proof of his role in the death of your wife, and other evidenceagainst him as well. How you handle that evidence will be up to you.'
'But-'
'Dr. Corbett, I have no time for this. Ihave preparations of my own to make. Nine o'clock tonight. If you know TheDoctor, you know why I do not trust anyone. You must do exactly as I say or wewill both lose out. Now, here is what you are to do. .'
Harry's bank was open until six thatnight. He had a total of $29,350 in his savings account, plus another five thousandor so in checking. He also had no personal connection whatsoever with anyone atthe bank. Cursing himself for not making more money, and for not having takenthe Hollins/McCue job, and for not going into ophthalmology, and for evertrusting Ray Santana, Harry took his savings and checkbooks and, with Maura,slipped out the rear basement door. They hurried to his garage for the BMW,stopped briefly at a newsstand, and then drove to his bank. With no idea howmuch space twenty-five thousand dollars would take up, especially in bill sizesof one hundred dollars or less, as the caller demanded, Harry had dumped out abriefcase and brought it along.