I thanked him for getting in touch with me, but I didn’t answer his question. I suppose I was still mad that he waited so long to call.
[Here there is an audible sigh.]
Actually, there’s no suppose about it. I still need to work on my anger issues.
I’ll have to stop soon, but it shouldn’t take long to finish bringing you up to date. I called Lieberman on his cell, because it was evening. I introduced myself as Carolyn H. and asked for his patient’s name and contact number. He gave me both, but reluctantly.
He said, “Mr. Bell is anxious to talk to you, and after careful thought, I’ve decided to agree. He’s very elderly now, and this is in the nature of a last wish. Although I should add that other than his fixation on this so-called psychic vampire, he’s not suffering any of the cognitive decline we often see in the elderly.”
That made me think of my Uncle Henry, Ralph, who has Alzheimer’s. We had to put him in care last weekend. Thinking about that makes me very sad.
Lieberman said that Mr. Bell is ninety-one, and coming to his most recent appointment must have been very difficult for him, even though he had his grandson to assist him. He said that Mr. Bell is suffering from a number of physical ailments, the worst being congestive heart failure. He said that under other circumstances, he might worry that talking to me would reinforce his neurotic fixation and mar the rest of what might otherwise be a fruitful and productive life, but given Mr. Bell’s current age and condition, he didn’t feel that was much of an issue.
Ralph, it may be projection on my part, but I found Dr. Lieberman rather pompous. Still, he said one thing at the end of our conversation that moved me, and has stayed with me. He said, “This is an old man who is very frightened. Try not to frighten him more than he already is.”
I don’t know if I can do that, Ralph. I’m frightened myself.
[Pause]
This place is filling up, and I should go to my gate, so I’ll make this quick. I called Mr. Bell, introducing myself as Carolyn H. He asked for my real name. That was my Rubicon, Ralph, and I crossed it. I said I was Holly Gibney and asked if I might come and see him. He said, “If it’s about the school explosion, and the thing calling itself Ondowsky, as soon as possible.”
7
With a change of planes in Boston, Holly arrives at the Portland Jetport just before noon. She checks into Embassy Suites and calls Dan Bell’s number. The phone rings half a dozen times, long enough for Holly to wonder if the old man has died in the night, leaving her questions about Charles “Chet” Ondowsky unanswered. Assuming the old fellow actually has some answers.
As she’s about to end the call, a man picks up. Not Dan Bell, a younger man. “Hello?”
“This is Holly,” she says. “Holly Gibney. I was wondering when—”
“Oh, Ms. Gibney. Now would be fine. Grampa’s having a good day. Actually slept through the night after talking to you, and I can’t remember the last time he did that. Do you have the address?”
“19 Lafayette Street.”
“That’s right. I’m Brad Bell. How soon can you come?”
“As soon as I can get an Uber.” And a sandwich, she thinks. A sandwich would also be good.
8
As she slips into the back seat of the Uber, her phone rings. It’s Jerome, wanting to know where she is and what she’s doing and if he can help. Holly says she’s sorry, but it really is personal. She says she’ll tell him later, if she can.
“Is it about Uncle Henry?” he asks. “Are you chasing down some kind of treatment option? That’s what Pete thinks.”
“No, not Uncle Henry.” Another old man, she thinks. One who might or might not turn out to be compos mentis. “Jerome, I really can’t talk about this.”
“Okay. As long as you’re all right.”
It’s really a question, and she supposes he’s got a right to ask it, because he remembers when she wasn’t.
“I’m fine.” And, just to prove she hasn’t lost the plot: “Don’t forget to tell Barbara about those private detective movies.”
“Already taken care of,” he says.
“Tell her she may not be able to use them in her paper, but they will provide valuable background.” Holly pauses and smiles. “Also, they’re extremely entertaining.”
“I’ll tell her. And you’re sure you’re—”
“Fine,” she says, but as she ends