Motherhood is Murder(67)

At the third door I peeked in and saw Alan at his desk. The office was no more than a desk with a computer on it, two chairs, and a bookcase along the far wall, which was actually so close to the desk it seemed that books would crash onto our heads in an earthquake.

He stood when he saw me. The last time I’d been at his office, he’d had dark circles under his eyes. Now the circles were even darker and his clothes were wrinkled, making him look like a train wreck. “Mrs. Connolly, what can I do you for?”

“Thank you for your time.” I offered him my hand. “Do you have a few minutes to answer some questions, Doctor?”

He nodded, indicating for me to sit. “Of course, of course. Uh . . . about your feet?” He stared at my Converse-clad feet.

“No.”

He clenched his fist then relaxed it and seated himself.

“It was brought to my attention that after Helene was killed, you asked for a full toxicology scan from the medical examiner,” I said.

He seemed surprised. “Yes. That night on the boat, I told the EMTs and the police to please request a full tox screen.”

“Can you tell me why?”

He rubbed at his face. “I thought her death was odd. I didn’t think the fall down the stairs had killed her. Her neck wasn’t broken, her skull hadn’t cracked. No trauma from the fall that I would deem severe or deadly. So, I reasoned that the medical examiner would call the cause of death an internal organ failure. Like, say, heart failure. While technically that may have been true, I wanted to know what caused the heart failure. I thought we at least deserved to know.”

“Were you close to Helene?”

“Sure. She was Margaret’s best friend.”

It was confession time, I needed to get everything I could out of Alan and I didn’t think confrontation would be best.

I titled my head and softened my voice. “You wanted to know because you were in love with her?”

Alan eyes opened wide. “What?”

“I have it on pretty good authority that you were having an affair with Helene.”

His face turned red. “What authority? Who said this? Who have you been talking to?” He jumped out of his chair. “Who’s saying I’m having an affair?”

Okay, maybe eliciting a confession wasn’t going to be as easy as I’d thought.

I remained seated. I couldn’t disclose that I had access through Galigani to things I shouldn’t have had access to.

An ugly vein was pulsating on his forehead. “And what about my wife? Did you mention this outrageous gossip to her?”

My hand involuntarily came to my throat, maybe because he looked like he could strangle me. It kicked up a self-protection instinct in me. “No. I haven’t been able to reach her.”

Suddenly my stomach clenched and I tasted bile in the back of my throat.

My God! Where was Margaret? Had something happened to her?

A bubble of anxiety crept along my spine and I did my best to suppress the shudder it was causing me. Alan, who was still hovering over me, suddenly dropped into his chair as though he’d just realized how physically imposing he was in this confined space.

“Margaret didn’t know about Helene. She suspected I was seeing someone, but she didn’t know it was . . .” He rubbed at his temple. “Please don’t tell her. She left me. There’s no point in her knowing now, is there? She took the kids and went to her mother’s. You can reach her there.”

“She hired me to investigate you. She thought you were trying to kill her.”

Alan’s hands dropped to his side. “What? That’s absurd!”

“I left several messages for her. She hasn’t returned my calls.”

Alan’s eyes narrowed. “I spoke with her yesterday. Let me give you her mother’s number.”

He proceeded to write the same phone number Margaret had left for me on her last voice mail.

“Do you have her mother’s address?”

Alan scowled, but jotted an address down for me nonetheless. “Look, I don’t know where this is going, but even though Margaret and I were having problems, I would certainly never physically harm her. I’m a doctor, for Christ’s sake.”

He glared at me, waiting for me to respond, but I simply closed my mouth and looked at him. He tapped at his desk. “Helene and I fell in love. Things weren’t working in her marriage. She wanted kids and we thought . . .” He sank his head into his hands.

“What about adoption? I thought Helene and Bruce were arranging for an adoption.”

Alan dropped his hands to the desk. He held on to the edge of the desk as though he were afraid it would run off on him. After a moment, he said, “We thought I could get custody of my kids. Margaret . . . well . . . she’s had some stability problems.” He moved his head from side to side, evaluating what to say next. “She was addicted to prescription painkillers for a long time. I’m sure any judge would give me custody. Helene was excited about the opportunity to raise my kids.”

He wouldn’t “harm” Margaret, but he’d take her kids away.

Might as well kill her.