Coma

There were two doors, one to the outer office, another presumably to a closet. Susan glanced at the position of the furniture, then she snapped off the light. As she did so she heard the outer door open, and the light went on in the outer office. Susan moved toward the closet door, feeling the perspiration appear on her forehead. A metallic sound came from the outer office, then another. The closet door openly easily and Susan eased herself in as quietly as possible. With difficulty she closed the closet door. Almost simultaneously the door to the inner office opened and the light went on. Susan expected the closet door to be yanked open at any second. Instead she heard footsteps going toward the desk. Then she heard the desk chair squeak, as someone sat in it. She thought it was McLeary and she wondered what he was doing in his office at this time.

What if he discovered her? The thought made her weak. If he opened the door, Susan decided she would try to bolt.

Then the phone was taken off the hook and Susan heard the familiar sound of dialing. But when the person phoning spoke, the voice confused her. It was female. And the caller was speaking in Spanish. From her own meager Spanish Susan was able to make out a part of the conversation.

It was about the weather in Boston, then in Florida. All at once Susan realized that a cleaning lady was plopped down in McLeary’s office using the hospital phone to make a personal call to Florida. Maybe that explained hospital overhead.

The call lasted almost a half-hour. Then the cleaning lady emptied the wastebasket, turned out the light, and departed. Susan waited for several minutes before opening the closet door. She headed in the direction of the light switch but her shin thumped painfully into the open file cabinet drawer. Susan cursed and realized what a terrible burglar she would make.

With the light on again Susan resumed her search. Out of curiosity to see where she had been hiding, she checked the closet. Or the lowest shelf, stacked among boxes of stationery, she found the charts she wanted. She wondered if McLeary had actually tried to hide them. But she did not dwell on the mystery. She wanted to get out of McLeary’s office.

Drawing on her basic resourcefulness, Susan piled the charts into the freshly emptied wastebasket. Then she left the office, unlocking the door. And as she had done in the dorm, she placed a minute wad of paper between the door and the jamb.

Susan carried the charts up to Beard 5 and entered the lounge. She got out her black notebook and poured herself some coffee. Then she took the first chart and began extracting it, as she had done with Nancy Greenly’s.

When D’Ambrosio returned to the medical school dorm, he had no particular plan in mind. His usual method of operation was to improvise, after having observed his quarry for a period of time. He already knew quite a bit about Susan Wheeler. He knew that she rarely went out, once back in her room. He was quite sure she would be there now. What he couldn’t be sure of was whether Susan had told the authorities about his initial visit. He decided there was a fifty-fifty chance. If she had told them, there was only a ten percent chance that they would take her seriously or at least that had been D’Ambrosio’s experience. And even if they did take her seriously, there was probably only a one percent chance that they would put her under guard. The risk factor was well within D’Ambrosio’s normal range. He decided that he would return to her room.

From a telephone in the corner drugstore D’Ambrosio rang Susan’s room. No answer. He knew that did not mean anything. She could be there but just not answering. D’Ambrosio could handle the lock on the door; he had determined that in the afternoon. But the bolt; she’d probably have the bolt thrown, and that would be noisy. D’Ambrosio knew he’d have to get her out of her room somehow.

He walked back to the dorm and into the parking lot. Her light was on.

He then entered the quad as he had done that afternoon, by picking the padlocks on the gate in the archway. It was a lock with only three tumblers. It was amazing where the university decided to save money.

He mounted the creaking wooden stab’s quickly. D’Ambrosio did not look it, but he was in top physical condition. An athlete, a psychopath. Quickly, he moved over to Susan’s door and listened. There were no sounds. He knocked. He was confident she would not open the door without speaking.

But at this point D’Ambrosio first wanted to find out if she were there.

If she answered, he intended to make it sound as if he were going back down the stairs. That usually worked.

But there was no answer.

He tried again. Still no answer.

He picked the lock in seconds. The door opened. The bolt was off.

Susan was gone.