Free Death Watch by Jack Cavanaugh

seen her in a couple of years, and Cindy kept hounding us to come to New York.”
    “Why didn’t you go?”
    “Couldn’t get the time off. You see, the trip was supposed to be more than just New York. Bea had always wanted to see the Caribbean. She said, ‘You can have Paris and London and Rome. Before I die I want to see the Caribbean.’” Vandeveer’s eyes teared.
    “Anyway, Cindy had some business down there. Something about scheduling an artist for a show. Not usually her job. She was doing it as a favor to the museum. Bea and me, we’d always talked about going. We’d get the brochures from travel agents and sit at the kitchen table and plan it all out, but then we’d start to worry about who was going to water the yard, and we’d have to stop the mail.“ His mouth clamped shut; his lower lip trembled.
    Sydney reached over and covered Vandeveer’s hand with hers.
    “Got the call that morning,” he said. “The news said the plane went straight down. Almost vertical.”
    Neither spoke for a time.
    The clock on the wall ticked off a minute.
    Vandeveer lay back in his chair and stared into space, his shirt open. Wires stretched from a machine to the white circle patches on his chest.
    “Do you have any other family?”
    “A brother. Both parents are dead. Never knew my dad. I was the product of one last good-bye before he shipped out. He was killed at Guadalcanal. My mother raised us. She died of lung cancer a few years back. Everybody smoked in those days.”
    Sydney was almost afraid to ask, “And your brother?”
    “Canada,” Vandeveer said. “He’s a minister of a church up there. He was always the good one. Ever since he was little he had a religious streak in him. You know how kids pretend they’re a cowboy or Superman? Lawrence would line up chairs, use a table for a pulpit, and pretend he was Billy Graham.”
    He shook his head. “I never bought into it, myself. Especially after Mildred died. She was a strong Christian woman. Look how much good it did her.”
    Sydney wanted to disagree with him, but now didn’t seem the time. “Have you talked with your brother recently?”
    “Ah!” Vandeveer straightened himself up in the chair. “Glad you mentioned that. I’ve been meaning to tell you something. Lawrence called yesterday. Strange, really. Said he’d received a phone call about me. The caller didn’t identify himself. The caller told Lawrence I was marked for death or something like that. He called to see if I was all right.”
    Sydney leaned forward. “Was it someone who knew about your Death Watch?”
    “That’s the funny thing. I hadn’t told anyone yet. I was about to call Howard Kressler—a guy I know, another model train hobbyist—when the phone rang and it was Lawrence. Why? Is that important?”
    Sydney was writing on her notepad. “It’s the first time we’ve heard of someone other than the vict other than the person to whom the death watch notice is addressed, being notified. You’re certain he received a notice about you and not him?”
    “Who would want to kill Lawrence? He’s perfect.”
    Sydney wrote down Lawrence’s phone number.
    The sound of hurried footsteps came from the kitchen. Hunz Vonner could be heard saying, “Hold on, I’ll ask him.” As he steppedthrough the doorway, he covered the mouthpiece of his cell phone. He didn’t ask if he was interrupting. “Vandeveer, have you had any injections recently? Say, within the last four or five months?”
    Lyle Vandeveer looked up, searching his memory. “No…not that I can recall…I’ve been pretty healthy, haven’t seen the doc.. wait, injection? I had a flu shot last Christmas. Is that what you’re looking for?”
    Hunz Vonner’s eyes widened. He spoke into the cell phone. “That’s affirmative. A flu shot. Yeah. It does, doesn’t it?” He turned and left the same way he came. Heels clicking, his voice grew softer, then dissipated completely with the closing of the front door.
    “What