Panic Attack (29 page)

He didn’t even know how the police had gotten here. He didn’t remember calling them; he could barely remember anything since discovering Dana’s body. It was like trying to remember a dream he’d almost forgotten.

Adam focused on Detective Clements’s face. Clements was standing, and Adam was sitting on the living room couch next to a guy in a navy hospital uniform.

“I need to talk to you, just for a few minutes,” Clements said. “Is that okay?” Then he said to the guy next to Adam, “Is it okay if I talk to him now?”

“His pressure’s still high, but he should be all right,” the hospital guy said, getting up, then heading out toward the foyer.
Like on the night of the robbery, the house was filled with cops, detectives, and crime scene technicians. Now Adam remembered calling 911, screaming into the phone, frustrated that the woman on the other end didn’t seem to understand him.
“I appreciate you taking a few moments to talk to me,” Clements said. “I know how difficult this is for you right now, but we have to move fast on this thing, and what you tell me right now could be crucial to our investigation. So I’m just gonna ask you a few very brief questions, okay?”
Adam nodded. He felt like he was barely there.
Clements asked a question, and Adam actually couldn’t pro cess what he was saying. He watched his lips moving and heard the words, but the only words he actually understood were “time” and “discover.”
“What was that?” Adam asked.
“I said, what time did you discover your wife’s body?”
“Oh.” Adam was still confused. “I don’t know.”
“You have to focus on this, Dr. Bloom... I know how hard this is.”
“You know how hard this is,” Adam said flatly.
“Excuse me?”
“You said you know how hard this is.” Adam laughed, but not in an amused way. “Sorry, but I doubt you know how hard this is, Detective.”
“You’re right,” Clements said. “I have no idea how hard this is, but you have to bear down now, focus as well as you can just for a few minutes and tell me what I need to know. Do you think you can do that for me, Dr. Bloom?”
Adam hated the way Clements was talking down to him.
“I told you about him yesterday,” Adam said. “I told you he left the notes, I told you he might’ve robbed our house. Did you even bother to look into any of this?”
“Yes, we did, Doctor.”
“You could’ve prevented this from happening,” Adam said. “You could’ve arrested him, you could’ve done something.”
“I understand your frustration, but we can’t simply go arrest somebody because we
think
he might’ve done something.”
“I told you about the notes, and look what he did to me, for chrissake. How do you think I got these bruises on my face?”
“I was going to ask you about your face.”
“Tony did this to me yesterday at the health club. I was angry when I saw the note, so I went over there to . . . to talk to him, and this is what he did to me.”
“You didn’t mention he hit you when you called me last night.”
“I didn’t?” Adam thought he had, but maybe he hadn’t. It was hard to think clearly about anything right now.
“Maybe if you’d mentioned that, we could’ve held him on assault or at least would’ve had a reason to question him longer than we did. But I did talk to him yesterday, went to his apartment actually. I asked him where he was last Thursday, the day you received the first note, and he claimed he was on Long Island that whole day, helping his brother-in- law paint his house. We checked this out, and I didn’t think there was any reason to believe he was lying. Also, he claimed he didn’t leave any note at your house yesterday.”
“Come on, that’s bullshit.” Adam was practically yelling. “He left the note, he left both notes, and then he came over here and killed my wife.”
“Okay, try to stay calm, Mr. Bloom. We’re one step ahead of you, okay? We’re picking Tony Ferretti up right now, and we’re gonna check him out thoroughly, okay? If he’s our guy we’re not gonna let him get away, okay?”
“He is the guy,” Adam said. “I know he is.”
“What I need to know from you,” Clements said, “is do you have any evidence that Tony was in the house today? I mean, did your wife tell you she was expecting him? Do you know if he called her at some point or came by to talk to her?”
Adam suddenly felt dazed and disoriented.
“You okay, Doctor?”
“Yeah, fine,” Adam said. “What was the question?”
Clements repeated it; then Adam said, “I don’t know, I have no idea.”
“We’ll be looking at the phone records, et cetera,” Clements said. “I just thought you might’ve heard something, or overheard someth—”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Adam said, “but I know he did it. How could it be any more obvious?”
Clements didn’t seem convinced. He asked, “Where’s the note you think Tony left yesterday?”
“It’s upstairs . . . top drawer of my dresser.”
Clements called another detective over and told him to go up and get the note. “Handle it like it’s evidence,” he said.
“I’m feeling very anxioius,” Adam said. “I need more Valium.” “You’re going to be okay,” Clements said.
“I need a higher dosage,” Adam said. “I’m telling you, he didn’t give me enough before.”
The EMT guy overheard Adam and was about to come over, but Clements held up his hand, making the stop signal, and said to Adam, “You’re going to be fine, okay? Just relax, try to stay focused, okay? When was the last time you saw your wife?”
“This morning,” Adam said, “when I went to work. She was still asleep.”
“And did you talk to her during the—”
“No,” Adam said, “but I was planning to.” He suddenly felt incredibly guilty for treating Dana so harshly yesterday. He was aware of why he’d treated her the way he had, but this didn’t make it seem any better. He had to take a few moments to compose himself before he said, “I was planning to try to talk to her and I . . . I made a mistake yesterday, confronting Tony, and I said some incredibly hurtful things to her and . . . Can I please have some more Valium? I’m telling you, the dosage was too low.”
“What time did you come home this evening?” Clements asked, ignoring Adam.
“I’m not sure,” Adam said.
“You called nine- one- one at seven thirty- five,” Clements said. “So did you discover the body as soon as you came home?”
Adam remembered the shock of entering the kitchen, seeing the body on the floor, not knowing what it was at first.
“Yes,” Adam said weakly.
“Yes what?” Clements asked.
“I discovered the body right away. Can’t you get me some more—”
“Did you drive to work today?”
“No . . . I never drive. I took the subway.”
“Did you notice anything suspicious on your way home from the subway? Anything that just didn’t seem right?”
He thought about it, or tried to, anyway, then said, “No, nothing.”
“So let me get this straight,” Clements said. “You came home, discovered the body, then called nine- one- one.”
“Right,” Adam said, aware of his heart racing. He needed more Valium— now.
“So when did you go over and touch the body?”
Adam was confused. “Touch it?”
“You told the nine- one- one operator you checked to see if your wife was dead. That’s how you got that blood on your sleeves, isn’t it?”
Adam looked at his shirt’s sleeves, surprised to see the smears of blood—
Dana’s
blood. He felt dizzy and thought he might even pass out.
“I really need more Valium,” he said. “I’m having an anxiety attack.”
Clements waved over the EMT guy, who gave Adam another couple of milligrams of Valium.
Adam had barely finished swallowing the pill and still felt very dizzy when Clements said, “So, about the blood . . .”
Clements’s total lack of empathy astonished Adam. He waited a few seconds, then said, “I think it was right after I saw her. I was in shock, naturally, and I went over to her, just to, I don’t know, see if there was something I could do.”
Adam realized he hadn’t cried at all since discovering the body and he should be crying, releasing tension.
“I know it’s upsetting,” Clements said. “But the sooner we can get through this, the sooner I can leave you alone to deal with your grief, okay?”
Deal with your grief,
like grief was something you could simply deal with— cross it off your checklist and ta- da, you could move on. Did they teach heartlessness at the police academy? Adam didn’t bother responding. His head hurt, and he was still dizzy; when would that damn Valium kick in?
“There was a message on the blackboard in the kitchen,” Clements said. “It says, ‘I want you to move out.’ Who wrote that?”
“I did,” Adam said.
“So you and your wife were planning to split up?”
Again Adam felt extremely guilty for the way he’d treated Dana over the past couple of days, for handling the whole situation so poorly. If he hadn’t confronted Tony, maybe Tony wouldn’t have come over here tonight and maybe Dana would still be alive.
“I was very upset this morning, about her and Tony,” Adam said, “but I was planning to . . .” He cleared his throat, took a couple of breaths, then continued, “I was planning to try to work things out with her. I didn’t want to leave her. I wanted to stay in the marriage.”
“Did you come straight home from work tonight, Dr. Bloom?”
Was Adam imagining it or was there a change in Clements’s tone? Did he sound harsher, even vaguely accusing?
“Yes, I did,” Adam said. “Why?”
“What time did you leave your office?”
“After my last patient.”
“When was that?”
“About six. No, it was later, six fifteen.”
“So you left at six fifteen and called nine- one- one at seven thirty- five, shortly after you discovered the body. Is that correct?”
“Yes, but I stopped off to go shopping at the grocery store on my way home.”
“I thought you came directly home?”
Now there was nothing vague about it.
“Excuse me?” Adam asked.
“I’m just trying to get all the facts, Dr. Bloom.”
“Why does it matter if I stopped to go shopping or I didn’t stop to go shopping?”
“Please just answer my questions.”
“This is absurd,” Adam said. “It’s bad enough that you guys never solved the robbery and you removed the cops who were doing surveillance or protection or whatever, but now you come in here, knowing what’s happened to me today, and you have the balls to accuse me of . . .” He couldn’t say it, so he said, “Are you out of your mind? Are you fucking insane?”
It felt great to scream, to vent, to curse. This wasn’t necessarily the most productive way to express anger, but sometimes it was necessary.
“You’re going to have to calm down, Dr. Bloom.”
“Calm down? How can I calm down when you won’t even give me enough goddamn Valium?”
“If you’d just relax—”
“You know, instead of wasting my time talking to me you should be talking to Tony, the guy who killed my wife. I’m the victim here—”
“And I’m running this investigation,” Clements said, raising his voice authoritatively. He paused, letting this sink in, obviously getting off on the power trip, then said, “I’ll decide what questions I ask and to whom I ask them, okay? Now, I’ll ask again, how long were you at the grocery store, Dr. Bloom?”
Adam answered the rest of Clements’s annoying questions. He told him that he’d been at the grocery store for about fifteen minutes and that he didn’t speak to anyone while he was shopping and that after he finished shopping he went directly home.
“So I just want to make sure I’m getting all of this. You left work at six fifteen and taking into account the length of the subway ride and the time you were shopping, would you say it took you about an hour to get from work to your house?”
“That sounds about right.”
“So then there’s about a twenty- minute gap between the time you got home and the time you called nine- one- one.”
Adam remembered that after he’d discovered the body he’d sat on the floor in the hallway outside the kitchen, staring straight ahead, stunned. He had no idea how long he’d been there.
“It might’ve taken me longer than an hour to get home,” Adam said.
“But you said you didn’t call nine- one- one right away,” Clements said.
“I was in shock,” Adam said. “I couldn’t react right away.”
“You were in shock for twenty minutes?” Clements sounded incredulous.
It took a few extra seconds for Adam to register Clements’s question. Maybe the Valium was finally working.
“It might not’ve been twenty minutes,” Adam said. “It might’ve been only five... or ten.”
“Well, thanks for your patience,” Clements said. “I’ll be in touch a little later, and I really am sorry for your loss.”
Clements left, and Adam sat alone on the couch, watching the activity in the house. Clements was talking to another cop, and there was a technician nearby who seemed to be looking around for fingerprints or other evidence. For a while, Adam felt like an observer, completely removed, like he was watching a movie. He thought,
This has nothing to do with me. This isn’t even happening
.
Then, after a few minutes, he realized that although the scene was surreal, he was very much a part of it. Dana was dead, and, even worse, he was a suspect. Maybe not the prime suspect, but still a suspect. Adam couldn’t blame Clements for focusing on him, as there was certainly plenty of circumstantial evidence. His marriage had been on the verge of imploding, he’d been behaving erratically lately to say the least, and, oh, let’s not forget the blood on his shirt— that really made him look great. As far as the police were concerned, Adam already had exhibited homicidal tendencies by shooting and killing Carlos Sanchez the other night, so why not explore the idea that he’d murdered his wife? Besides, when a woman is killed, the husband always has to be ruled out as a suspect, so it was completely understandable that Clements was questioning him.
But it amazed Adam that he’d reached this low point in his life. How had it happened? Just a couple of weeks ago things had been going so well for him. Okay, he and Dana had had some unresolved marital issues, but so did practically every other couple in the world, especially people who’d been married for longer than twenty years. And, yes, Marisssa had been going through her own age- appropriate problems, but for the most part they’d been a happy, together family up until the night that Marissa woke them up and told them that someone had broken into their house. That, in retrospect, had been the big turning point, the moment when everything had begun to go to hell.
Marissa,
Adam thought. He had to tell her.
He took out his cell but couldn’t make the call. How do you tell your daughter that her mother’s been killed?
Violently
killed. Her life would never be the same; she’d have to go through years of therapy just to begin to deal with it, and he felt awful for compounding the hurt, giving her such a hard time with all of that tough love crap. It was clear to him now how inappropriately he’d been behaving toward her lately. He’d been displacing his emotions, punishing her rather than punishing himself. Why had it bothered him so much that she’d had a bong in the house when she barely smoked? Had that really been such a monumental issue? Adam actually regretted that he’d thrown the bong out the other day. He could’ve used a few hits himself right now. He wasn’t sure he could handle making the phone call and was going to ask a cop to make it for him, but then he forced himself to do it on his own. She deserved to hear the news from her father rather than a complete stranger. He couldn’t reach her and didn’t want to leave a message, so he ended the call and figured he’d try again in a little while. She was probably out with Xan. He was glad she had a boyfriend now, a good solid guy. She’d need him to help her get through this.