Stillwatch (37 page)
Authors: Mary Higgins Clark
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors)
There was a child sitting there. A child with longreddish-brown hair, her chin leaning on the palms of her hands; herexpression curious.
I wasn’t asleep, she thought. I heard the doorbell ring and I wantedto see who was coming.
Daddy opened the door and someone pushedpast him He was angry. I ran back to bed.
When I heard the first shot,I didn’t come right down. I stayed in bed and screamed for Daddy.But he didn’t come. And I heard another loud bang and ran downthe stairs to the living room. . . .And then . . .She realized she was trembling and light-headed. Going into thelibrary, she poured brandy into a tumbler and sipped it quickly. Whyhad Senator Jennings been so devastated by that letter? She’d beenpanicky, furious, frightened.Why?It didn’t make sense.
listen
to me. You shouldn’t be in that house now!”“It’s the only way I’ll be able to piece it together.”She’s nervous because of the break-ins, Pat told herself as she layin the tub. She’s afraid I can’t face the truth. She slipped on her terry-
The Nursing Home Angel!
” The first time he phoned, the callerhad referred to himself as an angel of mercy, of deliverance, ofvengeance. Pat bolted up and grabbed the phone. Frantically she dialedSam’s number, let the phone ring ten, twelve, fourteen times beforeshe finally replaced it. If only she had realized what Eleanor was sayingwhen she talked about Arthur Stevens!
He had begged Eleanor not togive herself up. To save Eleanor he might have tried to stop the program.
Could Eleanor have been aware of those threats? No, I’m sure shewasn’t, Pat decided. Her lawyer should know about this before wetell the police.It was twenty-five past six. She got out of bed, tightened the beltof her robe and put on her slippers. As she hurried down the stairs,she wondered where Arthur Stevens was now. Was he aware thatEleanor was under arrest? Would he see the program and blame herwhen Eleanor ’s picture was shown? Blame her because Eleanor hadnot kept her promise to wait before going to the police?In the living room she turned the chandelier to the brightest setting
or she will suffer a deathmore violent than her parents endured. She is running out of time.
Lila had met Sam Kingsley just once and liked him very much.She sensed that he was important to Pat. Would it be of any use to tryto talk to Congressman Kingsley, share her apprehension with him?Could she possibly persuade him to insist that Pat leave her homeuntil this dark aura around it dissolved?She pushed the tray aside, got up and reached for the green book.She would call him immediately.
Toby might have been seen near the site of Catherine Graney’smurder. If he had killed Catherine Graney, everything else theysuspected of him was possible, even logical.
“Abigail has to knowabout this immediately,” Sam said. “I’ll go to her now. She shouldhave the chance to withdraw her name from consideration. If sherefuses, I’ll call the President myself. Even if she had no idea of whatToby was up to, she’s got to accept the moral responsibility.”
Trib
the other day aboutwhat great pals she was with Congressman Adams and his wife.”“I saw it.”“Like the paper said, there was always a rumor that another womanwas the direct cause of the fatal quarrel. I was new in the Bureauwhen that case broke, but when I read that article, something startedbugging me. On a hunch I pulled the Adams file. We have a memo init about a freshman Congresswoman named Abigail Jennings. Allthe indications were that
she
was that other woman.”
Air Force Two
and the mansion on thegrounds of the old Naval Observatory. Presiding over the Senate andrepresenting the President all over the world.In two years the Presidential nomination. I’ll win, she promised herself.Golda Meir. Indira Gandhi. Margaret Thatcher. Abigail Jennings.The Senate had been a mighty step up. The night she was electedLuther had said, “Well, Abigail, you’re a member of the world’s mostexclusive club.”Now another vast step was impending. No longer one of onehundred Senators, but the second-highest official in the land.She had decided to wear a three-piece outfit, a silk blouse andskirt with a knitted jacket, in tones of pink and gray. It would showup well on the television sets.Vice President Abigail Jennings . . .It was six-fifteen. She got up from the chaise, went over to herdressing table and brushed her hair. With deft strokes she applied atouch of eye shadow and mascara. Excitement had flushed her cheeks;she didn’t need blush. She might as well get dressed now, watch theprogram and practice her acceptance speech until it was time to leavefor the White House.
Women in Government
.”She had already seen everything but the last few minutes of theprogram. Even so, it was reassuring to watch it again. Apple Junctionunder a fresh coating of snow had a down-home country look thatconcealed its shabby dreariness. Thoughtfully she studied the Saundershome. She remembered when Mrs. Saunders had ordered her to retraceher steps and take the path to the service entrance. She’d made thatmiserable witch pay for that mistake.If it weren’t for Toby’s figuring out how to get the money forRadcliffe, where would she be now?The Saunderses
owed
me that money, she told herself. Twelveyears of humiliations in that house!She watched the clips of the wedding reception, the earlycampaigns, Willard’s funeral. She remembered the exultation she hadfelt when in the funeral car Jack Kennedy had agreed to urge theGovernor to appoint her to complete Willard’s term.The insistent ring of the doorbell startled her. No one ever droppedin. Could someone from the press be brazen enough to ring like that?She tried to ignore it. But the peal became a steady, unbroken intrusion.She hurried to the door. “Who is it?”“Sam.”She pulled open the door. He stepped in, his face grim, but shebarely glanced at him. “Sam, why aren’t you watching
I wasn’t asleep, she thought. I heard the doorbell ring and I wantedto see who was coming.
Daddy opened the door and someone pushedpast him He was angry. I ran back to bed.
When I heard the first shot,I didn’t come right down. I stayed in bed and screamed for Daddy.But he didn’t come. And I heard another loud bang and ran downthe stairs to the living room. . . .And then . . .She realized she was trembling and light-headed. Going into thelibrary, she poured brandy into a tumbler and sipped it quickly. Whyhad Senator Jennings been so devastated by that letter? She’d beenpanicky, furious, frightened.Why?It didn’t make sense.
listen
to me. You shouldn’t be in that house now!”“It’s the only way I’ll be able to piece it together.”She’s nervous because of the break-ins, Pat told herself as she layin the tub. She’s afraid I can’t face the truth. She slipped on her terry-
The Nursing Home Angel!
” The first time he phoned, the callerhad referred to himself as an angel of mercy, of deliverance, ofvengeance. Pat bolted up and grabbed the phone. Frantically she dialedSam’s number, let the phone ring ten, twelve, fourteen times beforeshe finally replaced it. If only she had realized what Eleanor was sayingwhen she talked about Arthur Stevens!
He had begged Eleanor not togive herself up. To save Eleanor he might have tried to stop the program.
Could Eleanor have been aware of those threats? No, I’m sure shewasn’t, Pat decided. Her lawyer should know about this before wetell the police.It was twenty-five past six. She got out of bed, tightened the beltof her robe and put on her slippers. As she hurried down the stairs,she wondered where Arthur Stevens was now. Was he aware thatEleanor was under arrest? Would he see the program and blame herwhen Eleanor ’s picture was shown? Blame her because Eleanor hadnot kept her promise to wait before going to the police?In the living room she turned the chandelier to the brightest setting
or she will suffer a deathmore violent than her parents endured. She is running out of time.
Lila had met Sam Kingsley just once and liked him very much.She sensed that he was important to Pat. Would it be of any use to tryto talk to Congressman Kingsley, share her apprehension with him?Could she possibly persuade him to insist that Pat leave her homeuntil this dark aura around it dissolved?She pushed the tray aside, got up and reached for the green book.She would call him immediately.
Toby might have been seen near the site of Catherine Graney’smurder. If he had killed Catherine Graney, everything else theysuspected of him was possible, even logical.
“Abigail has to knowabout this immediately,” Sam said. “I’ll go to her now. She shouldhave the chance to withdraw her name from consideration. If sherefuses, I’ll call the President myself. Even if she had no idea of whatToby was up to, she’s got to accept the moral responsibility.”
Trib
the other day aboutwhat great pals she was with Congressman Adams and his wife.”“I saw it.”“Like the paper said, there was always a rumor that another womanwas the direct cause of the fatal quarrel. I was new in the Bureauwhen that case broke, but when I read that article, something startedbugging me. On a hunch I pulled the Adams file. We have a memo init about a freshman Congresswoman named Abigail Jennings. Allthe indications were that
she
was that other woman.”
Air Force Two
and the mansion on thegrounds of the old Naval Observatory. Presiding over the Senate andrepresenting the President all over the world.In two years the Presidential nomination. I’ll win, she promised herself.Golda Meir. Indira Gandhi. Margaret Thatcher. Abigail Jennings.The Senate had been a mighty step up. The night she was electedLuther had said, “Well, Abigail, you’re a member of the world’s mostexclusive club.”Now another vast step was impending. No longer one of onehundred Senators, but the second-highest official in the land.She had decided to wear a three-piece outfit, a silk blouse andskirt with a knitted jacket, in tones of pink and gray. It would showup well on the television sets.Vice President Abigail Jennings . . .It was six-fifteen. She got up from the chaise, went over to herdressing table and brushed her hair. With deft strokes she applied atouch of eye shadow and mascara. Excitement had flushed her cheeks;she didn’t need blush. She might as well get dressed now, watch theprogram and practice her acceptance speech until it was time to leavefor the White House.
Women in Government
.”She had already seen everything but the last few minutes of theprogram. Even so, it was reassuring to watch it again. Apple Junctionunder a fresh coating of snow had a down-home country look thatconcealed its shabby dreariness. Thoughtfully she studied the Saundershome. She remembered when Mrs. Saunders had ordered her to retraceher steps and take the path to the service entrance. She’d made thatmiserable witch pay for that mistake.If it weren’t for Toby’s figuring out how to get the money forRadcliffe, where would she be now?The Saunderses
owed
me that money, she told herself. Twelveyears of humiliations in that house!She watched the clips of the wedding reception, the earlycampaigns, Willard’s funeral. She remembered the exultation she hadfelt when in the funeral car Jack Kennedy had agreed to urge theGovernor to appoint her to complete Willard’s term.The insistent ring of the doorbell startled her. No one ever droppedin. Could someone from the press be brazen enough to ring like that?She tried to ignore it. But the peal became a steady, unbroken intrusion.She hurried to the door. “Who is it?”“Sam.”She pulled open the door. He stepped in, his face grim, but shebarely glanced at him. “Sam, why aren’t you watching
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