The Sisterhood - Michael Palmer [61]
“Yeah, sure, great.” He made no attempt to clear the huskiness in his voice.
“David, I am so sorry for what just happened here. If I had known how heavily Lieutenant Dockerty was going to pounce on you, I never would have allowed the whole thing to happen. He said he wanted to check the spontaneous reactions of several people. You were just one of them. All of a sudden you erupted, and there wasn’t even a chance for me to …” She gave up trying to explain. “Look, David,” she went on finally, “I like you very much. Have since the day you got here. Just give me the benefit of a hearing. After what’s just happened to you, I know that won’t be easy, but please try. I want to help.”
David looked at her, then bit back his anger and nodded.
“How about an hour or so at Popeye’s?” Her smile was warm and sincere.
“Popeye’s it is,” David said, picking up his jacket. Together the new allies left the hospital.
Popeye’s, a local landmark, had seen nearly thirty years of doctors and nurses bringing their problems and their lives to its tables. Outside the tavern an animated neon sign, the pride and joy of the management, depicted characters from the comic strip chasing Wimpy and his armload of hamburgers across the building. As they entered, David caught sight of four of the nurses who had been at the inquiry. Neither Dotty Dalrymple nor Christine was among them.
“I haven’t been here in years,” Dr. Armstrong said after they had settled at a rear table. “My husband and I courted in some of these booths. Nothing has really changed except for that garish sign outside.”
David noted that she wore no wedding ring. “Is your husband living?” he asked.
“Arne? No, he died eight, no, nine years ago.”
“Oh, yes, how stupid of me,” David said, remembering that he, like everyone else at Doctors Hospital, knew she was the widow of Arne Armstrong, a world famous neurophysiologist and a possible Nobel laureate, had he lived long enough to complete his work. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be silly …” Dr. Armstrong said, stopping in midsentence as a shapely blonde in a black miniskirt and skintight red sweater arrived to take their order. “I’ll have a beer, a draft. And my date here?” She smiled over at David.
“Coke,” he said. “Extra large, lots of ice.”
The waitress left and Armstrong looked at David. “Not even with all that’s happened to you tonight?”
She knew. Of course she knew. Everyone did. But she wasn’t testing him. There was, David realized, admiration in her voice.
“It’s been nearly eight years since I touched a drop of alcohol. Or a pill,” he added. “It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than Dockerty could ever dish out to get me back there. Even though I’m sure my teeth will finally vaporize from all the cola I consume.” His voice drifted away. Thoughts of John Dockerty staring placidly through him were followed by images of other confrontations he had been forced to endure over the years since Ginny and Becky were killed.
As if reading his thoughts, Armstrong said, “David, you know that I’m aware of much that has happened to you in the past.” He nodded. “You should be aware, then, that Lieutenant Dockerty also knows. I am not sure how he learned so much so quickly, but he is very good at his job, I think. And you know what a giant glass house a hospital is. Everybody’s life is everybody else’s business and what people can’t gossip about with certainty, they usually contrive simply to fill in the gaps.”
David gave a single, rueful laugh. “I’ve been the center of hospital rumor before,” he said. “I know exactly what you mean. This time, though, it’s not just harmless speculation. I would never set out to hurt anyone, let alone murder him.”
“No need to tell me,” she said. “I’m already a believer. As I said before, I think Lieutenant Dockerty is very thorough and very good at his job. I’m sure that will be in your favor. He just doesn’t seem the type who will stop until his case is airtight.”
Their drinks arrived, and David welcomed the chance to break from the conversation for a few minutes. “Maybe I should voluntarily take myself