"What do you want?"

"Just tell me what you know."

She hesitated, her no-gossip policy too deeply ingrained to give up all at once. She must have decided to trust me because she took a deep breath and opened up. "That last day, he seemed preoccupied. I think he was worried… I mean, why wouldn't he be? Mrs. Purcell… excuse me, the first one, Fiona… stopped by to see him, but he'd gone out to lunch. She waited for a while, thinking he might return, and then she left him a note. When he came back, he worked in his office for the rest of the day. I remember he had a glass of whiskey sitting at his desk. This was late in the day."

"Did he go out for dinner?"

"I don't believe so. He usually ate quite late or skipped supper altogether. Many evenings, he had a little something at his desk… crackers or fruit… this was if his wife was going out and wouldn't be cooking. When I tapped on his door to say good-night, he was just sitting there."

"Did he have papers in front of him? Files or charts?"

"He must have. I didn't pay attention. It wasn't in his nature to be idle. I do know that."

"You had a conversation?"

"The usual pleasantries. Nothing significant."

"Any phone calls or visitors that you know of?" She shook her head. "Not that I remember. When I came in the following Monday, his office was empty, highly unusual for him. He was always here at seven o'clock, before anyone else. By then, the rumors were beginning to circulate. Someone… I forget who… said he'd never gone home at all on Friday night. At first we didn't attach much to it. Then, people got worried he'd been in an accident or taken ill. When the police came, we were frightened, but we still expected him to be found within a day or two. I've thought and thought about this, but there's absolutely nothing else."

"Didn't I read in the paper he had a brief chat that night with an elderly woman sitting in the lobby?"

"That would be Mrs. Curtsinger. Ruby. She's been a resident here since 1975. I'll have Merry take you over to her room. I don't want you upsetting her."

"I promise I won't."

Chapter 11

Merry walked me down the hall. I could see the meal carts being rolled out, the vertical shelves stacked with dinner trays for those who preferred eating in their rooms. It was not even five o'clock and I suspected the early supper hour was designed to condense all three of the day's meals to one long shift.

Merry was saying, "'Member the nurse who was standing there when you left on Saturday? Her name's Pepper Gray. Anyway, she started asking all these questions about you. I never let on a thing, just said you'd be back to talk to Mrs. S. today. She read me out good, saying I shouldn't be talking to anyone about the clinic. I was so P.O.'d. She doesn't have any right to talk to me that way. She doesn't even work in my department."

"What do you think she heard?"

"Doesn't matter. It's none of her business. I just thought you should be aware of it in case we run into her."

We took a left, passing the staff lounge, central supply, and then a series of residential rooms. Many doors were closed, the exteriors decorated with greeting cards or wreaths of dried flowers. Sometimes the names of the occupants were spelled out in foil letters hanging jauntily from a miniclothesline of ribbon or string. Through the doors that remained open, I caught glimpses of twin-sized beds with floral spreads, photographs of family members lined up on the chests of drawers. Each room had a different color scheme and each looked out onto a narrow garden where flowering shrubs trembled with the first drops of a pattering rain. We passed an old woman, stumping down the hall with her walker. Her pace was rapid and when she reached the corner, she turned with such vigor she threatened to topple sideways. Merry reached out a hand and steadied her. The woman banked, swerving wide, and then tottered on.

Ruby Curtsinger was sitting in an upholstered chair beside a set of sliding glass doors, one of which was pushed back to admit a breath of damp, fresh air. Her feet were propped on a stool. Just outside, a bird feeder was suspended from the eaves. Small brown birds were perched on the feeder's edge. A line of birds, like clothespins, extended from the hanging support. Ruby was a tiny, shrunken woman with a small bony face and arms as thin as sticks. Hef white hair was sparse, but it looked as if she'd recently had it washed and set. She turned a pair of bright blue eyes toward us and smiled, showing the many gaps in her lower teeth. Merry introduced us and explained what I wanted before she withdrew.

Ruby said, "You should talk to Charles. He saw Dr. Purcell after I said good-night to him."

"I don't think I've heard of Charles."

"He's an orderly on the night staff. He's probably here somewhere. He likes to come into work early so he can visit with Mrs. Thornton and some of the other girls. They play gin rummy for pennies and you should hear them hoot. When I have trouble sleeping, I ring for him and he'll put me in my chair and push me up and down the halls.

Sometimes I sit in the staff lounge and play euchre with him. The man does love to play cards. I take my meals here in my room. There are folks in the dining room I don't much care for. One woman chews with her mouth open. I don't want to look at that when I'm eating. It's disgusting.

"The night you're asking about-when I last saw the doctor-I took my usual pills, but nothing seemed to help. I rang for Charles, and he said he'd take me on Toad's Wild Ride. That's what he calls it. In truth, he wanted to smoke so he parked me in the lobby and went outside. That's why I was sitting there, so Charles could sneak a cigarette. He's trying to quit and I guess he thinks if no one knows what he's doing, it won't count. Dr. Purcell doesn't allow anyone to smoke in here. He says too many people have problems breathing as it is. That's one thing we talked about that night."

"What time was this?"

"Five minutes to nine or so. We didn't chat long."

"Can you remember anything else?"

"He told me I was beautiful. He always says that to me, though I sometimes think he's fibbing just a tiny bit. I asked about his boy. I forget what his name is,"

"Griffith."

"That's it. Doctor used to have his wife bring the little boy in to see us every week or so. Of course, she hasn't brought him even once since his daddy disappeared. I notice the child's feet scarcely ever touched the floor. They carried him every place and anything he wanted, he pointed to and grunted. I told the doctor, 'He's never going to learn to talk as long as you treat him that way,' and he heartily agreed. And then we talked about the weather. It was a lovely night outside. Felt just like spring and I believe the moon was almost full. He went through the door and that's the last I saw of him."

"Could you tell what kind of mood he was in? Mad? Sad?" She put an index finger against her cheek and gave that some thought. Arthritis had bent the thumb on that hand until it formed a painful-looking angle perpendicular to her hand. "Absentminded, I'd say. I had to ask him twice if he could arrange an outing for us. The food here is good. I don't mean to complain, but eating out is fun and gives us all a lift. Any little change makes such a difference."

A Hispanic woman in scrubs appeared at the door. "I have your dinner tray, Miss Curtsinger. You want to eat in front of the TV so you can watch your show? It's coming on in five minutes and you don't want to miss the opening. That's the best part you said." She crossed to Ruby's chair and set the dinner tray on a small rolling table that she pulled in close. She removed the aluminum lid, revealing the barbecued riblet laid out with all its accompaniments. The Jell-0 was green with a smattering of fruit cocktail submerged in its glowing depths. "Thank you," Ruby said, and then she smiled at me. "Will you come back and see me, dear? I like talking to you."