Free The Naked Face by Sidney Sheldon Page B

Judd said. 'Thank you.' He wanted to add a word of reassurance, of comfort, but there was nothing he could say. He hung up. So that was that. He had struck out If neither Ziffren nor Harrison Burke had tried to kill him - then there could be no one else with any motive. He was back where he had started. Some person - or persons - had murdered his receptionist and one of his patients. The hit-and-run incident could have been deliberate or accidental. At the rime it happened, it seemed to be deliberate. But looking at it dispassionately, Judd admitted to himself that be had been wrought up by the events of the last few days, to his highly emotional state he could easily have turned an accident into something sinister. The simple truth was that there was no one who could have any possible motive for killing him. He had an excellent relationship with all his patients, warm relationships with his friends. He had never, to his knowledge, harmed anyone The phone rang. He recognized Anne's low, throaty voice instantly. 'Are you busy?' 'No. I can talk.' There was concern in her voice. 'I read that you were hit by a car. I wanted to call you sooner, but I didn't know where to reach you.' He made bis voice light. 'It was nothing serious. It will teach me not to jaywalk' 'The papers said it was a hit-and-run accident.' 'Did they find the person who did it?' 'No. It was probably some kid out for a lark.' In a black limousine without lights. 'Are you sure?' asked Anne. The question caught him by surprise. 'What do you mean?' 'I don't really know.' Her voice was uncertain. 'It's just that - Carol was murdered. And now - this.' So she had put it together, too. 'It - it almost sounds as if there's a maniac running around loose.' 'If there is,' Judd assured her, 'the police will catch him.' 'Are you in any danger?' His heart warmed. 'Of course not.' There was an awkward silence. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't He must not mistake a friendly phone call for anything more than the natural concern that a patient would have for her doctor. Anne was the type who would have called anyone who was in trouble. It meant no more than that. 'I'll still see you on Friday?* he asked. 'Yes.' There was an odd note in her voice. Was she going to change her mind? 'It's a date,' he said quickly. But of course it was not a date. It was a business appointment. "Yes. Goodbye, Dr. Stevens.' 'Goodbye, Mrs. Blake. Thanks for calling. Thanks very much.' He hung up. And thought about Anne. And wondered if her tiusband had any idea what an incredibly lucky man he was. What was her husband like? In the little Anne had said about him, Judd had formed the image of an attractive and thoughtful man. He was a sportsman, bright, was a successful businessman, donated money to the arts. He sounded like the kind of person Judd would have liked for a friend- Under different circumstances. What could Anne's problem have been that she was afraid to discuss with her husband? Or her analyst? With a person of Anne's character, it was probably an overwhelming feeling of guilt because of an affair she had had either before she was married or after her marriage. He could not imagine her having casual affairs. Perhaps she would tell him on Friday. When he saw her for the last time.
    The rest of the afternoon went by swiftly. Judd saw the few patients he had not been able to cancel. When the last one had departed, he took out the tape of Harrison Burke's last session and played it, making occasional notes as he listened. When he had finished, he switched the tape recorder off. There was no choice. He had to call Burke's employer hi the morning and inform him of Burke's condition. He glanced out of the window and was surprised to see that night had fallen. It was almost eight o'clock. Now that he had finished concentrating on his work, he suddenly felt stiff and tired. His ribs were sore and his arm had begun to throb. He would go home and soak in a nice hot bath. He put