Cold Vengeance - Lincoln Child [102]
Constance tried waving, then knocked quietly on the window—but the woman was absorbed in her book.
She made a quick search of the room, pulling open drawers in the empty desk and cupboards—and found a carpenter’s pencil in the back of one drawer.
An old book lay on the top bookshelf. She grabbed it, ripped out the flyleaf, and hurriedly scribbled a note on it. Then she folded it up and wrote a second note on the outside:
Please take this note immediately to
Dr. Felder, care of Mount Mercy Hospital,
Little Governor’s Island. Please—IT’S A
MATTER OF LIFE OR DEATH.
After a moment, she added:
Felder will give you a monetary reward.
She went to the window. The woman was still reading. She rapped on the glass, but the woman didn’t notice. Finally, feeling a rising desperation, she took up the book and rammed it into the window, edge first. The glass shattered and the woman in the next garden glanced up.
Immediately Constance could hear Esterhazy bounding up the stairs.
She placed the note inside the book to help weigh it down and then tossed it toward the next garden. “Take the note!” she called down. “And go—please!” The woman stared at her as the book landed near her feet, and the last thing Constance saw was her bending down—she walked with a cane—and taking up the book.
Constance turned from the window just as Esterhazy burst in with a curse of surprise and rushed toward her. She raised a hand to claw at his eyes; he tried to bat it away but she managed to scratch two deep stripes down one cheek. He gasped in pain, but quickly recovered and tackled her. He fell atop her and they struggled, Esterhazy finally pinning her arms and pressing another chloroformed cloth over her mouth and nose. She felt consciousness slide away and blackness claim her once again.
CHAPTER 56
Camden, Maine
THE SITE OF THE FORMER NURSING HOME had been razed and condos erected in its place, a forlorn row of empty town houses with flapping banners advertising price reductions and incentives.
Strolling into the little sales office, Pendergast found it empty and rang a bell on the counter. A haggard-looking young woman appeared from a back room, seemingly almost startled to see him. She greeted him with a professional smile.
Pendergast sloughed off the bulky jacket and smoothed down his black suit, restoring it to linear perfection. “Good morning,” he said.
“May I help you?”
“Yes, you may. I’ve been looking at real estate in the area.”
This seemed like a new idea to the saleslady. Her eyebrows rose. “Are you interested in our condominiums?”
“Yes.” Pendergast dumped the loathsome coat on a chair and settled himself down. “I’m from the South but looking for a cooler clime for my early retirement. The heat, you know.”
“I don’t know how they stand it down there,” said the woman.
“Indeed, indeed. Now, tell me what you have available.”
The woman bustled through a folder and brought out some brochures, fanning them out on the table and launching into an earnest sales pitch. “We’ve got one-, two-, and three-bedroom units, all with marble baths and top-of-the-line appliances: Sub-Zero refrigerators, Bosch dishwashers, Wolf stoves…”
As she droned on, Pendergast encouraged her with nods and approving murmurs. When she was done, he allowed her a brilliant smile. “Lovely. Only two hundred thousand for the two-bedroom? With a view of the sea?”
This elicited more talk, and Pendergast again waited for her to reach the end. Then he settled back in the chair and clasped his hands. “It somehow seems right for me to live here,” he said. “After all, my mother was a resident some years ago.”
At this the woman seemed confused. “How nice, but… well, we’ve only just opened—”
“Of course. I mean in the nursing home that was here before. The Bay Manor.”
“Oh, that,” she said. “Yes, the Bay Manor.”
“Do you recall it?”
“Sure. I grew up here. It closed down when… well, that would have been about seven, eight years ago.”
“There was a very nice aide who used to take care of my mother.” Pendergast