Free The Cradle Will Fall by Mary Higgins Clark Page A

And what
    incredible ignominy. He who dealt in birth and fertility had
    married a barren woman.

     
    When had he started to hate Claire? It took a long time—seven
    years. It was when he realized that her disappointment was faked;
    that she'd known all along that she could not conceive.

     
    Impatiently he turned from the window. It would be another
    cold, wind-filled night. When all this was over, he'd take a vacation.
    He was losing his grip on his nerves. He had nearly given
    himself away this morning when Gertrude told him that Edna had
    phoned in sick. He'd grasped the desk, watched his knuckles
    whiten. Then he'd realized: Gertrude was covering for her friend.

     
    The missing shoe. This morning he'd gone to the hospital soon
    after dawn and once again searched the parking lot and the office.
    Had Vangie been wearing it when she came into his office Monday
    night? He couldn't be sure. The other shoe, the right one, was still
    in his bag in the trunk of the car.

     
    Even if the police started an investigation into Vangie's death,
    there was no evidence against him. Her file in the office could
    bear intensive scrutiny. All the true records of the special cases
    were here in the wall safe, and he defied anyone to locate that safe.
    It wasn't even in the original plans of the house.

     
    Anyway, no one had any reason to suspect him—no one except
    Katie DeMaio.

     
    Fukhito had come in to see him just as he was locking up tonight.
    He'd said, "Mrs. DeMaio was asking a lot of questions. Is
    it possible that they don't believe Mrs. Lewis committed suicide?"

     
    "I really don't know." He'd enjoyed Fukhito's nervousness.

     
    "The interview you gave to that magazine comes out tomorrow?"

     
    "Yes. But I gave them the impression I use a number of psychiatric
    consultants. Your name will not appear in the article."

     
    "Still, it's going to put the spotlight on us."

     
    "On yourself. Isn't that what you're saving, Doctor?"

     
     
    He'd almost laughed aloud at the troubled, guilty look on
    Fukhito's face. Now, finishing his Scotch, he realized that he had
    been overlooking another avenue of escape. If the police concluded
    that Vangie had been murdered, if they did investigate
    Wesdake, he could reluctantly suggest that they interrogate
    Dr. Fukhito. Especially in view of his past. After all, Fukhito was
    the last person known to have seen Vangie Lewis alive.

CHAPTER EIGHT

     
    AFTER leaving Dr. Fukhito, Katie went to the east wing of the
    hospital for the transfusion. She had a long wait, and didn't leave
    the hospital until nearly six o'clock. She was hungry, and the idea
    of going home did not appeal to her. She thought she had learned
    to cope with loneliness. The feeling of emptiness that had been
    coming over her lately was something new.

     
    She passed the restaurant where she and Richard had eaten
    the night before, and on impulse swung into the parking area.
    Maybe in the warm, intimate atmosphere she'd be able to think.

     
    The proprietor recognized her, beamed with pleasure and led
    her to a table near the one she had shared with Richard.

     
    Nodding at the suggestion of a glass of Burgundy, Katie leaned
    back. Now if she could just sort out the impressions she'd received
    talking with Dr. Highley and Dr. Fukhito.

     
    Taking out her notebook, she began to scan what she had jotted
    down during the interviews. Dr. Highley. He'd explained that
    Vangie Lewis was in serious trouble with her pregnancy. What
    he told Katie was completely reasonable. What then? What more
    did she want of Dr. Highley? He'd expressed regret over Vangie's
    death, but certainly not sorrow. Of course, a doctor had to stay
    objective, as she'd heard both Bill and Richard say.

     
    Richard. Her eyes slid over to the table where they'd sat together.
    Was it possible that it could happen twice in a lifetime,
    that from the very beginning you know someone is right?

     
    When she and Richard were leaving Molly's after lunch