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advising the Parole Board what position our office would take on cases coming
before them next month, one request to lecture to a women s group at a college
in Pennsylvania, and several offers to test software programs designed to
expedite the preparation of lawyer s briefs were on the top of the stack.
Wedged in between the legal-sized envelopes that I had been opening was a
small letter that appeared to be a personal note. It was stamped but had no
postmark, and I guessed that it had been delivered by hand. I slit it open
with the narrow point of a pair of desk scissors and unfolded the page of
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single-spaced typed correspondence.
It began with the salutation  My dearest Alexandra, and my eye flipped
immediately to the bottom of the paper to see the closing that was identical
to the one on the papers Isabella had received:  Best ever, Cordelia Jeffers,
Fellow, Royal Academy of Medicine.
My thoughts scattered in a dozen directions. I was mad at myself for touching
the letter and envelope, which may have yielded fingerprints if I had not
smudged them; I wanted to have Mike or David or anyone else who knew the case
sitting beside me as I read through the text; I wondered whether to march
directly into Battaglia s office and tell him I was in over my head; and yet I
couldn t stop myself from reading on.
My dearest Alexandra, I debated about sending this to you at your office or
your fancy apartment, but I didn t know if you d notice it at home among the
dozens of yellow roses that our mutual friend continues to waste his money on.
Sometimes, my clever girl, your actions do surprise me. Didn t you find it
degrading, and I do mean thoroughly humiliating, to have him leaping into bed
with that vacant slut, that Cleopatra-like whore you were stupid enough to
befriend? And yet, thereafter you remained so desperate for his companionship
that you accept rides in his limousine and let him try to wheedle his way back
into your good graces. Deny him the help he seeks, he needs it not.
Like her before you, you will be shocked to find that the woman he truly loves
is not your equal not in physical appearance, not social status or material
wealth, not even in professional recognition in her chosen field.
As you know, women do crazy things in the name of love, and crazier still when
they sense the beloved slipping away, becoming ambivalent. orne Wasn t it the
immortal Bard who said  One may crt on smile and smile and be a villain? Keep
that in mind estic and yield not to temptation. es as Best ever, ogge Cordelia
Jeffers ;r the Fellow, Royal Academy of Medicine lies h her I read it three
times to try to make it make sense. How did this woman, this person, know the
things she talked about in the letter? The yellow roses, my short ride across
town in Jed s limo, his pleas for help these last few days, his betrayal of me
with Isabella. I surely didn t believe in psychics, but could I have been
unaware that someone was actually following me wherever I went? Not possible.
Then that paragraph that mirrors one in Isabella s letter, referring to the
woman Jed really loves. Again, I was completely puzzled by its meaning.
Who was the beloved that Jed was slipping away from?
Who was he becoming ambivalent about? Could this possibly be his ex-wife, now
bitter about their estrangement?
I had never even suggested that to Chapman. All I knew about her was that like
many other women, she was unhappy in marriage and unhappier still in divorce.
Why hadn t I asked more questions about her? I called the guard at the
security desk to see if he remembered anyone leaving an envelope with him
earlier in the day. He reminded me that the shifts had changed at four
o clock, when he had come on duty, and nothing except deliveries from Police
Headquarters had been dropped at his station. I d have to check with the day
shift tomorrow morning.
Mike Chapman and David Mitchell needed to know about this letter at once. I
called David s office and got the answering machine. I left a message,
expecting that he would pick it up soon, since he was supposed to be there to
meet Jed sometime within the next two hours, and I told him I would fax a copy
of the letter to him before I left the office.
I tried Mike but he wasn t at the squad yet, so I hung up and walked down the
hall to use the fax machine outside of Rod s conference room. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]