Free Stillwatch by Mary Higgins Clark Page B

she was going to ask themto wrap it and put it aside. She was going to a birthday party thatnight. The judge didn’t believe her.”
     
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Neither do I, Pat thought. She was saddened she couldn’t acceptthe explanation that Margaret Langley so passionately believed. Shewatched as the former principal put her hand on her throat as thoughto calm a rapid pulsebeat. “That sweet girl came here so manyevenings,” Margaret Langley continued sadly, “because she knew Iwas the one person who absolutely believed her. When she wasgraduated from our school, I wrote and asked Abigail if she couldfind a job for her in her office.”“Isn’t it true that the Senator gave Eleanor that chance, trustedher, and then Eleanor stole campaign funds?” Pat asked.Margaret’s face became very tired. The tone of her voice flattened.“I was on a year ’s sabbatical when all that happened. I was travelingin Europe. By the time I got home, it was all over. Eleanor had beenconvicted and sent to prison and had a nervous breakdown. She wasin the psychiatric ward of the prison hospital. I wrote to her regularly,but she never answered. Then, from what I understand, she wasparoled for reasons of poor health, but only on condition she attend aclinic as an outpatient twice a week. One day she just disappeared.That was nine years ago.”“And you never heard from her again?”“I . . . No . . . uh . . .” Margaret stood up. “I’m sorry—wouldn’t youlike a little more coffee? There’s plenty in the pot. I’m going to havesome. I shouldn’t, but I will.” With an attempt at a smile Margaret walkedinto the kitchen. Pat snapped off the recorder. She has heard from Eleanor,she thought, and can’t bring herself to lie. When Miss Langley returned,Pat asked softly, “What do you know about Eleanor now?”Margaret Langley set down the coffeepot on the table and walkedover to the window. Would she hurt Eleanor by trusting Pat Traymore?Would she in effect point out a trail that might lead to Eleanor?A lone sparrow fluttered past the window and settled forlornly onthe icy branch of an elm tree near the driveway. Margaret made upher mind. She would trust Patricia Traymore, show her the letters,tell her what she believed. She turned and met Pat’s gaze and saw theconcern in her eyes. “I want to show you something,” she said abruptly.When Margaret Langley returned to the room, she held in eachhand a folded sheet of notepaper. “I’ve heard from Eleanor twice,”
     
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she said. “This letter”—she extended her right hand—”was written thevery day of the supposed theft. Read it, Miss Traymore; just read it.”The cream stationery was deeply creased as though it had beenhandled many times. Pat glanced at the date. The letter was elevenyears old. Pat skimmed the contents quickly. Eleanor hoped that MissLangley was enjoying her year in Europe; Eleanor had received apromotion and loved her job. She was taking painting classes atGeorge Washington University and they were going very well. Shehad just returned from an afternoon in Baltimore. She’d had anassignment to sketch a water scene and decided on Chesapeake Bay.Miss Langley had underlined one paragraph. It read:
     
I almost didn’t get there. I had to run an errand forSenator Jennings. She’d left her diamond ring in thecampaign office and thought it had been locked in thesafe for her. But it wasn’t there, and I just made mybus.
     
This was proof? Pat thought. She looked up, and her eyes metMargaret Langley’s hopeful gaze. “Don’t you see?” Margaret said.“Eleanor wrote to me the very night of the supposed theft. Why wouldshe make up that story?”Pat could find no way to soften what she had to say. “She couldhave been setting up an alibi for herself.”“If you’re trying to give yourself an alibi, you don’t write tosomeone who may not get the letter for months,” she said spiritedly.Then she sighed. “Well, I tried. I just hope you’ll have the