Eclipse (15 page)

Tonight, once again, his concentration was focused on vision.

He had another small collection, kept in a special compartment of his refrigerator, of porcine eyes, on which he sometimes rehearsed procedures, placing an eye under the microscope, sometimes using a Styrofoam head and cup, constantly refining his techniques and dexterity.

No practical work tonight.

Tonight, he was just looking over some of his instruments: orb indentors, membrane picks, foreign body forceps, curved scissors, serrated forceps.

He looked, did not touch, but spoke their names out loud, recited each one's purpose, saw in his mind the procedures and operations for which they had been created.

Very few people, he knew, would comprehend the pleasure his collections gave him, were he to try to explain.

Not that it mattered.

Ordinary people's opinions had never mattered much to him.

His patients mattered, what he could do for them.

As he had sworn by Apollo and Asclepius and Hygieia and Panacea in the Hippocratic Oath, which had numerous versions, though he favored the classic translation.

‘
If I fulfill this oath and do not violate it, may it be granted to me to enjoy life and art, being honored with fame among all men for all time to come; if I transgress it and swear falsely, may the opposite of all this be my lot.'

He would not transgress.

A doctor, first, last, always.

Grace was typing patient notes in her office just before noon on Monday, when Magda knocked and came in.

‘Mr Delgado just called to ask if you would see Felicia.'

Grace sat back. ‘Is she speaking?'

‘I didn't question him,' Magda said. ‘Are you willing?'

‘I'll need to speak to him first,' Grace said. ‘There are considerations.'

Magda handed her a blue Post-it note with a phone number. ‘When you're ready.'

Grace thought for several moments, then made the call.

He picked up on the first ring, and she introduced herself.

‘Before we go any further,' she said, ‘there might be certain issues precluding my visiting your daughter at the Foster-Pérez Clinic. For one thing, I don't have practice privileges there.'

‘I already assumed as much,' Delgado said. ‘Which is part of the reason why Felicia is coming home tomorrow. I'm taking on a private nurse, and my housekeeper is fine with the arrangements.'

‘And is her doctor in agreement?' Grace asked.

‘Doctor Pérez will continue seeing her at my home.'

‘That's good.' Grace paused. ‘Three more things. You might want to take time to check out my credentials.'

‘Already done, Doctor.'

She asked the most significant question: ‘Has Felicia begun speaking?'

‘Just a few words,' Delgado said, ‘and nothing about her mother. But she has begun.'

‘That's very good news.' Grace went on. ‘There's one more major issue here, though it represents no conflict at all from my professional standpoint.'

‘Your husband,' Delgado got there first. ‘Detective Becket.'

‘Quite,' Grace said.

‘I'm sure you respect each other's confidentiality issues.'

‘We do.'

‘Then I have no problem,' Delgado said.

Sam took fifteen minutes out to drop by at Lincoln Park Music School to find out if Billie had been attending classes.

Except no one would tell him.

Which was, of course, as it should be.

If Billie's parents wanted to check on their daughter, they were going to have to contact the school directly.

Still no sign of her at evening rehearsal, nor had anyone heard from her.

Faced with major decisions to be made, Linda, by now intensely stressed, had turned to Sam to share the load, linking arms with him and moving away from the rest of the group toward a big old banyan tree.

‘I really don't want to give it to Carla,' she said quietly. ‘However fine she is, it's just not a soprano role.' She sighed, frustrated. ‘Though it would obviously be a thousand times easier to find another Micaëla at this stage than another great Carmen.'

‘Frankly' – Toni Petit came from behind, holding a cup – ‘I'm more concerned about what might have happened to Billie.'

‘We all are,' Sam said, and the delicate fragrance from Toni's drink reached his nose. ‘What's that?'

‘That's my chamomile tea, with honey and vanilla,' Linda said. ‘Get you some, Sam?'

‘Not right now, thanks.' He paused. ‘Does Billie drink herb tea?'

‘Not to my knowledge,' Linda said.

‘It'd be healthy for her,' Toni said. ‘Wherever she is.'

‘I wouldn't worry too much about our Miss Smith.' Tyler Allen joined them. ‘I have her down as a Grade-A mini-diva.'

The rest of the group were making their way over the lawn.

‘You couldn't be more wrong,' Sam said to Allen.

‘All this chopping and changing Carmens isn't exactly a picnic for me,' Jack Holden complained.

‘You said you enjoyed my interpretation on Thursday,' Carla said.

‘“Interpretation”,' Tyler mocked. ‘You were a good stand-in, darling.'

Sam shot him a look.

‘You have a problem with me?' Tyler asked.

‘Just with the barbed remarks,' Sam said.

‘How about we get down to some work?' Linda took control.

‘And anyone who's not needed first –' Toni raised her voice – ‘I'd like to check measurements.'

Sam called Larry Smith from the Saab after rehearsal to tell him that the school needed to hear from him before releasing any information.

‘I'll call first thing,' Larry said. ‘But what if she hasn't been there? I mean, I guess she can't be called a missing person, not if she's probably just gone off someplace.'

‘Any luck naming the bar where she works?'

‘Nope,' Larry said.

‘Maybe Jill knows,' Sam said.

‘Jill's not feeling too great right now,' Larry said. ‘Which is why I don't want to stress her. It's also why I can't just drop everything and come down to Miami – we don't even know that Billie's
in
Miami.'

Sam told his old school friend that he'd see what he could do.

Billie troubling him even more now.

On Tuesday morning, shown into Felicia Delgado's bedroom in her father's condo by the gentle-mannered nurse, Grace found the room cool and dimly lit, the drapes closed.

The teenager was sitting up in bed, her hands on the covers, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. The dark glasses she wore despite the semidarkness were as oversized as Sam had described.

‘Hello, Felicia,' she said. ‘I'm Grace Lucca. I'm a psychologist, and I'm here to help you, if you want me to.'

Felicia Delgado didn't respond, her expression impossible to read.

There was a chair against the wall over to Grace's right.

‘Would you mind if I bring that chair a little closer, Felicia?'

She shrugged, and Grace picked up the chair and placed it about four feet from the bed, not wanting her to feel hemmed in.

She sat down. ‘Do you understand why I'm here?'

‘You're a shrink.' The teenager's voice was soft and a little husky. ‘A shrink came to see me in the clinic, but I didn't feel like talking, so she went away again.'

No purpose in raising her brief appointment with Magda, Grace decided, especially given that it had taken place before her mother's death.

In another lifetime.

‘Do you think you feel ready to talk to me now?' she asked.

‘I'm not sure,' Felicia said.

‘That's OK,' Grace said. ‘We can just see how it goes.'

The only sound in the room now was the air conditioning's low hum.

Grace took a chance. ‘I'm going to ask you to help me out with something, Felicia. But if you're not willing, that's OK, we'll manage.' She paused. ‘I know you don't want to take off your lovely glasses—'

She saw the girl visibly flinch.

‘—but because of them,' she went on, ‘I can't tell how you're feeling.'

‘I'm not taking them off.'

‘I'm not asking you to,' Grace said. ‘I know you have a problem with that.'

‘I don't want to talk about it.' Felicia's voice rose a little.

‘You don't have to. Not till you're ready.'

‘I'll never be ready.'

‘That's OK,' Grace said. ‘I just want to explain that, from time to time, because so much of your face is hidden by your glasses, I might ask you questions about how you're feeling that seem dumb.'

‘Oh,' Felicia said. ‘OK.'

‘Thank you,' Grace said. ‘I only raised it because I'd like us to be honest with each other. So you know that I know about your problem.'

She allowed a decent pause.

‘It's also pretty dark in here. Would you mind if I opened the drapes?'

Felicia didn't answer.

‘I know I'd feel better,' Grace said. ‘I often find first meetings quite hard, so it might help me if the room were a little brighter.'

‘So open them,' the teenager said.

‘Thank you.' Grace stood up, crossed over to the window, found a cord, opened the drapes and turned around.

This room had not, of course, been Felicia's home, but it was not an impersonal guest room, seemed like a place in which she might have spent time in the past. There were no posters, the only ‘teen' thing a framed, signed photograph of three of the Harry Potter movie kids. A swift scan of the bookshelves revealed ‘Extraordinary Hispanic Americans', a Bible and a Laura Ingalls Wilder novel, and Grace wondered if Felicia removed her dark glasses to read, if perhaps she waited until she knew no one would walk in on her, or if she locked doors.

Or maybe she never took them off at all in case she passed a mirror and caught sight of her own reflection.

‘I'm sorry,' Felicia said. ‘I know I'm not easy.'

‘You have nothing to be sorry for,' Grace told her. ‘You've been through an unimaginable ordeal, and you've suffered the worst kind of loss, and I wish I knew some easy way to help you quickly, but I don't. So I'm just going to see if maybe, over time, we can help each other find a way.'

Felicia Delgado's mouth lifted a little at the corners. Not exactly a smile, but something like it.

‘What?' Grace asked gently.

‘Nothing.'

‘I thought perhaps I saw a trace of a smile.'

‘And you could see that even with my glasses on,' Felicia said.

Being a smart mouth seemed to Grace a welcome sign of normality.

‘Yes, I could,' she said. ‘But why did you smile?'

‘Because you talk like a real person,' Felicia said.

‘I'm relieved to hear that,' Grace said.

There was a knock on the door, and Carlos Delgado looked in. ‘How are we doing?'

Grace knew instantly and with regret that the brief connection was lost.

‘I think we've been doing fine,' she said, staying focused on his daughter. ‘Though I think you've probably had enough for one day, haven't you, Felicia?'

‘I guess,' she said.

Grace stood up. ‘Would you mind if I come back again soon?'

‘If you want,' Felicia said.

‘I'd like to,' Grace said. ‘Very much.'

‘Just so long as you don't think we're going to be friends,' Felicia said.

‘Hey,' Carlos Delgado said. ‘Don't be rude.'

‘Your daughter's just saying what she feels,' Grace said. ‘I want her to know she can be honest with me.'

‘So how much did she say?' Delgado asked.

His living room was emphatically masculine, the flat-screen TV huge, the bar handsomely stocked, the furniture racing-green leather.

‘We made a start,' Grace said.

‘Did you ask about her mother?'

‘No.'

‘But if she was a witness . . .'

‘We don't know that yet,' Grace said.

‘If she's talking,' Delgado said, ‘the police will want to question her.'

‘They will,' Grace agreed. ‘But I don't think she's ready to speak to them.'

‘Will you tell your husband that?' Delgado asked.

‘If Detective Becket asks for my professional opinion,' Grace said, ‘that's what I'll tell him.'

Billie had not been to class for almost a week, Larry Smith reported to Sam that evening, and the school had no information to offer regarding any part-time work she might be doing.

‘And so far, apparently,' Sam told Grace later, over bowls of vegetarian chili and couscous at their kitchen table, ‘none of her fellow students seem to know anything.'

‘You're really worried about her.'

‘I'm concerned,' Sam said. ‘But I guess it's her parents' decision as to if and when they regard her as actually missing.'

‘I hope she's OK.' Grace paused. ‘And it's all right, by the way, for you to ask me about Felicia Delgado.'

‘I was waiting for you. Professional courtesy.'

‘There's not much I can tell you, obviously,' she said. ‘But you can ask.'

‘Did she talk to you?'

‘A little.' Grace paused. ‘Is she ready to talk to you? Not quite yet, I'd say, but at least we made a start.'

‘Meantime, every hour that passes . . .' Sam shook his head.

‘Is wasted from the investigation standpoint,' Grace said. ‘No help to you, though, if she shuts down again.' She paused. ‘As it happens, we'd barely begun when her father came to check on her. I'll see her again as soon as possible.'

Sam put down his fork. ‘Any chance he might have been deliberately cutting your time short?'

‘He instigated my seeing her, didn't he?' Grace said.

‘Point taken.' He thought for a moment. ‘Where did you see her?'