Tracking Time (11 page)

A
pril was in a hurry. She had three things on her to-do list before meeting Mike. She wanted to search Maslow's office, locate his appointment book and list of patients, and listen to the messages on his answering machine. After that she needed to run over to Jason's apartment on Riverside Drive and spend half an hour reviewing everything he knew about the missing man. She also had to question Pee Wee James again now that he'd had time to sober up.

Between worrying about keeping Mike waiting and not being able to clear the case in the next ten minutes, April was feeling a lot of stress. By the time Woody double-parked on the block between Eighty-ninth and Ninetieth streets, a deep ache had traveled down her spine from the base of her head to the space between her shoulder blades and was now gathering momentum, jabbing sharply at her lower back as well. She was feeling so much muscle distress she didn't have the energy to complain about Woody's traffic violation. If he got a summons, he'd have to deal with it. Tough. Before he had a chance to kill the engine, she was already out of the car, trying to stretch her screaming muscles into a semblance of quiet.

Something was wrong with those kids. She couldn't get them out of her mind. Brandy's mugging for Woody's camera, David's being freaked out by it. Both of them stoned, knowing Zumech, and worse, being in the right place at the right time during a police investigation. There were too many matches for comfort, but they didn't seem to have any connection to Maslow. They didn't even know who he was or what was going on. She shrugged them onto the back burner of her thoughts. They were troubled losers. Kids like that made her sad about the state of the world.

Maslow's office was in an ordinary Central Park West building, one of those massive, well-kept, sixteen-story brick structures with rich canopies and doormen in matching uniforms that were inhabited mostly by wealthy, educated Caucasians unlike herself. It was just like the building where he lived and much nicer than anyplace she'd ever resided. The doorman was a good-looking Hispanic in a neat navy uniform. April nodded at him, and he didn't stop her and Woody when he saw where they were headed. She wondered if she looked as if she needed a shrink and smiled at the thought.

The first door on the right just inside the lobby had Maslow's name on it and two others listed above it. A note on the door told Maslow's patients to contact Dr. Jason Frank. Woody went first, checking the door before ringing the bell. They were both surprised when the handle turned and the door opened on a waiting room in the minimalist style-a square room with cracking beige paint, a few shabby chairs, a sofa of indeterminate color, and three coffee tables littered with well-thumbed
Life
magazines. Most surprising of all was the ultra-thin girl sitting on the sofa, looking forlorn and playing with her long black hair.

The girl glanced up eagerly when the door opened, saw that it was not the person she was anticipating, then looked down and inspected her watch. April copied the action. Woody did the same. All three watches read five-thirty.

"Are you waiting for Dr. Atkins?" April asked.

The girl nodded.

"Didn't you see the note on the door?"

"Yes."

"Did you call Dr. Frank?"

"No, should I?"

"Dr. Atkins isn't coming in today."

"He'll come in for me," she said.

"What makes you think so?"

"He's very late, but I'm sure he's coming. He promised." The girl frowned.

"Is he often late?"

"Late? He's never late. I'm a little worried, but I know he won't let me down. Are you two his next appointment?"

"Any particular reason for worry?" Woody jumped in without any invitation from his boss.

The girl tilted her head to one side. "Oh, you know New York. Elevators get stuck. Cranes fall over. My grandfather was hit by a bus once." She lifted a shoulder. "His whole side was black-and-blue for weeks. He died of a blood clot, though."

Woody looked as if he might pass out with delight over this account. His humor was a little off as always. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Allegra Caldera," she said easily.

April couldn't believe her ears.

"Hi, Allegra, I'm Detective Baum. This is Sergeant Woo," Woody introduced them, clearly smitten again.

"Police?" the girl said excitedly.

"Yes. We're from the police." April showed off her gold shield, guessing this was the girl they were looking for.

"Police?" Allegra said again, puzzled this time, as if the word had a funny taste. April noticed that her fingernails were badly bitten, and her sharp collarbone showed clearly through the thin fabric of her white blouse. She was a schoolgirl, pretty, starving, and not very old. Her eyes showed alarm, but she didn't seem to be afraid of them.

"Yes, we're looking for Dr. Atkins."

"He didn't do anything wrong, did he?"
This
appeared to be the girl's worry. She jumped off the sofa.

"No, of course not. But he's missing." April noted the flushed face and girl's puzzlement.
She,
at least, did not appear to be stoned.

"He is?"

"Didn't you see all the activity? This section of Central Park has been closed all afternoon. It made a mess of the whole West Side." This from Woody, suddenly a conversationalist.

Allegra shook her head. "No, I got off the subway at Ninety-sixth Street and walked over."

"Where were you coming from?" Woody's voice was funny. The idiot had the dazed look of someone who'd fallen down a flight of stairs. He was talking, but he wasn't all there. Pretty girls had a devastating effect on him.

Allegra saw it, too. "The Bronx. I live in Riverdale. Why are you asking me these questions?"

"We're tracing Dr. Atkins's actions yesterday to see if we can figure out where he might be."

"Well, he
must
be here." Allegra ran over to one of the three doors off the waiting room and knocked. "Dr. Atkins," she cried. "Dr. Atkins! Open the door!"

April gave Woody a look as he pulled out his camera. They had a situation. The girl thought Maslow was inside the office, and they hadn't searched here first. Were they both out of their minds? How could they have missed this? If Maslow was inside the office, he was probably dead. Maybe he was a suicide. Maybe he'd had a heart attack. It happened. Sweat rolled down her sides. Or he could have been murdered here. Jesus, if she'd called out the whole city on this, and the man was dead in his office, her entire career, indeed her whole life, was over. She was an idiot, an unbelievable idiot.

The girl was weeping. "Oh God, I'm really sorry."

Another click in April's mind. This was the voice on Maslow's answering machine.

"Listen, Allegra, calm down. Tell me what you know about this," she said.

"I will, I will, but please, check in there first. I'm so scared."

"Sure." Good plan. April snapped her fingers at Woody.
Get a grip.

"Boss?" he said blankly.

"Take Allegra out in the hall."

"Are you going to break into his office?" she cried, blocking the door.

"No. I'm just going to open the door."

"That's breaking in. Isn't that against the law?" Allegra demanded.

"We're the law," April told her. "This is what we do. Go out in the hall."

"Oh my God, don't touch anything. He's a doctor. Everything in there is confidential."

The hair rose on April's neck. What was she seeing? What was coming out of this kid? What was going on here? "Sit down," she ordered Allegra. "And don't move."

"Boss?" Woody queried, eager to do the break-in.

"I'll do it." April would have used her precious MasterCard, on which there was a balance due of eight hundred and thirty-two dollars because of two pairs of really pretty shoes, a suit for herself, and the recent colorful shirts and ties she'd bought her lover. But using the card would not have negated the debt.

Instead, from her purse she pulled the thin, flexible strip locksmiths use when people lock themselves out. It was one of the necessities she kept with her at all times.

Both Woody and the girl watched as she slid the strip between the door and the lock and popped the door open. They all held their breath as April went into the still, empty room. Then her phone rang and she answered it.

L
ieutenant Mike Sanchez was having a bad day. He had a hangover and the guilts on two fronts about the love of his life, April Woo. First thing was April had messed up big time on this Maslow Atkins case and wasn't backing off to save her ass as she should. Out of kindness and concern for her future, he felt he had to be straight with her.

On another front, he wasn't looking so good himself. He'd made his own little blunder and had to confess, because keeping secrets from the girl he intended to marry was not his style. It all started last night when he went up to the Bronx to have dinner with his mother, Maria. She still lived on Broadway and 236th Street in the Bronx in the apartment where he'd grown up. After dinner, he'd gone down to the Van Cortlandt Bar and Grill to meet up with his old partner, Devon, for a few beers. Tuesday had been a hot and steamy night, the air conditioner was working overtime, and he hadn't been there for thirty seconds when Carla Diverso came over.

"Where have you been hiding yourself?" she asked. "I was about to give up on you."

"No kidding. What's up?" He didn't want to get involved with her, but he didn't want to be mean either. The kid's life was nothing but trouble.

"You never talk to me on the phone anymore. I've been hanging around for weeks, hoping you'd stop by," she complained, then gave him a big smile to soften him up.

"Okay, so talk."

While he waited for Devon to show up he'd let Carla tell him her troubles, which turned out to be legion. She wanted him to be her "friend." Of course he knew what that meant. It got later and later, and Devon never showed up at all. Mike had a few too many beers and explained that he couldn't be anybody's friend, he was going to marry April.

"That's great. I'll help you choose a ring," Carla told him excitedly. "I'll go with you tomorrow."

He had no idea why, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Carla ended up spending the night at his place, but all they'd done was talk about April the whole time. Now he felt like a great jackass for letting Carla worm into his life, even for ten minutes, let alone a whole night. He'd intended to tell April the whole story this morning. Then the jogger thing came up.

April was in trouble with everyone. She was late. And he was getting impatient. He rang her on the cell phone to see what was keeping her. She picked up right away.

"Querida,
where the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Uh, Maslow's office. Any news?"

"No. What about you?"

"I'm just finishing up."

"Well, finish fast. I need to talk to you," he said.

"I'm on my way," she said.

He felt a little better. If he got her a really nice ring, maybe she wouldn't be so upset about losing the case.

A
rmed with Allegra's address, phone number, and a promise to talk again tomorrow, April and Woody made a big mistake. They believed it would be a piece of cake to call her in again for further questioning tomorrow, and they let her go. Then, they collected Maslow's appointment book, patient lists, and speckled patient notebooks, and drove to Jason Frank's Riverside Drive building. She'd promised Mike she was on her way and left Woody downstairs in the car.

"I'll just be five minutes," she told him.

Upstairs in Jason's apartment, Emma opened the door with baby April in her arms. Before April had a chance to say hello or admire the baby, the phone rang.

"Excuse me." Without warning, Emma handed over the baby and went to answer it. April had s6en babies in her time. At family gatherings they were always the center of attention. For a decade Skinny Dragon had been using other people's adorable babies to beat April over the head with the lack of her own. April had come to look on them as triple trouble because of the woes they brought her.

Jason and Emma's baby had blue eyes. Not much reddish hair, chubby cheeks, and a rosebud mouth. She was actually pretty cute. She studied April with a serious expression for a few moments, then broke into a huge grin, revealing the beginnings of a tooth in several places. "Aaaa," she said.

"Hi, yourself." April couldn't help being impressed.

The baby drooled down her chin. A long string of saliva descended from her mouth and landed on April's sleeve. April thought this was better than a dog nosing her crotch, but only just.

"Hi," she said again and bobbed the cute bundle up and down a few times. The baby giggled. April felt this was going pretty well. In the intense pleasure of the moment, she forgot that Mike and Woody were waiting for her.

She gathered the courage to move into the living room, where some of Jason's many clocks started chiming the hour of seven at ten to. The clock was ticking on her case and on her life, but she had spent an hour with Allegra in Maslow's waiting room and eliminated her as a suspect. She was now so late she figured she could take another minute or two to imagine what it would be like to be a mother.

She sat in one of the big comfy chairs at the end of the sofa and settled the baby on her lap. April Frank didn't seem to mind this, either. She leaned forward and started to gnaw on April's jacket collar. "Uh, uh, uh." The baby sounded like Skinny Dragon, concentrating on some important, slanderous gossip that could ruin a person's life.

April tried a little conversation. "Tastes great, huh?"

Emma stood in the entry arch watching them. "You two look very cute together. You should try motherhood, April."

Just what April had been considering herself. She jumped as if burned by the idea.
"Uh-uh."
She handed the baby back as fast as ever she could. "Great for you, maybe."

"Don't you think she's cute?"

"She's more than cute, she's gorgeous, and probably smart, too." Still, April couldn't help thinking of motherhood as the fatal disease that would turn her into the crone her mother was. Naturally, she didn't believe that the burden of her debts or the fact that Skinny Dragon hated the man she loved had anything whatever to do with her fears.

"She loves all the toys and rattles you gave her. They're just right for her now. Jason told you, didn't he?" Emma looked very good in a pale yellow sweat suit. Beautiful blond hair, lovely body that didn't look an ounce fatter. Her face was sweet and calm. Motherhood was agreeing with her.

"Yes, he told me. You look great, Emma," April said admiringly.

"Thanks, I'm happy."

More clocks started chiming. For a while it got pretty loud in the room. Seven o'clock came and went. The two women talked for a few minutes about work and babies. April had a sad feeling that she did not have family pleasures like this. She never had a moment to relax, play with a baby, and have girl talk with a woman her own age who wasn't on the job. She was always in a hurry. Someone was always yelling at her. Even now she was supposed to be off duty and couldn't even think of taking a day off. Something had come up. A person was missing, and she wouldn't rest until she found him.

"I'll be right back." Emma dropped the baby on April's lap a second time and disappeared into the kitchen. This time the drooling infant went for her watch. April forced herself to remain where she was and let the sweet baby gum that until Jason arrived five minutes later looking horrible.

When he said, "How's my little sweetheart," neither woman had the slightest doubt which of the three of them he meant. He kissed his wife and his daughter, then hugged April distractedly. But his face was pale, and the pleasantries didn't last long.

"We have a very serious situation here, potentially very dangerous." He glanced at his wife, then at April. He sat on the sofa and rubbed his face with his hands.

"You know, at our Institute we offer analysis for very low fees-three or four years of intensive treatment with highly trained candidates, like Maslow Atkins, who are already practicing M.D.'s or Ph.D.'s. The patients are often students or academics who hear about the program through one of the universities."

The baby started to whimper. Emma got up and immediately took her into the kitchen. Jason glanced at them adoringly then watched them leave the room before he went on. "We have a process for screening, and Maslow's patient, the one he wanted to see me about last night before he disappeared, passed muster by a lot of people, including me."

April nodded.

"But I did some checking today. I found out the girl is not enrolled at the university she said she attended. She does not live where she said she lived, and her name is false, too. We don't know who she is, or where she lives, or why she faked her identity to get into the program." He got up and started pacing the living room.

Something clicked. "Is the girl you're talking about five-four, about a hundred pounds, black hair, brown eyes, anorexic, very pretty?"

"How did you know?" Jason was surprised.

"Woody and I interviewed her only a few minutes ago. She was waiting for Maslow in his office. She was also the last person seen with him last night."

An expression of intense relief settled on Jason's features. "Good. Where is she now? I need to talk to her right away."

April shook her head, feeling a little queasy. She didn't want to say she didn't know where the girl was. "She didn't seem dangerous to us. She seemed like a kid who had a crush on her doctor," was what she said.

"April, in the fifty-year history of the Institute, nothing like this has ever occurred. If something's happened to my supervisee because of an error in selecting a patient, it's my fault. It happened on my watch."

April shook her head again. "I don't think this girl has anything to do with Maslow's disappearance. I interviewed her myself. She didn't even know he was gone."

"You have to understand the elaborate hoax she pulled off. She lied to all of us." Jason was pacing again in his agitation.

April felt bad for him. She could see how a dangerous mental patient, violent and on the loose, could be a hot-button item for him. Like a convict who breaks parole with a repeat crime, the psychiatric patient who becomes violent while under treatment casts suspicion on the whole field. April thought she was pretty good with her takes on people, and that wasn't the girl she'd just seen. Or was the little white ghost playing tricks on her, too?

"Well, this is just my intuition. I may be wrong. In any case, we have to investigate other avenues as well. What about Maslow's other patients, his friends, parents?" she asked.

"Well, his parents are a sad pair. They don't seem to know their son very well. They were no help." Jason gave April an enigmatic smile. "Let's get back to Alle-gra. What did she tell you?"

"She told me Maslow annoyed her during their session yesterday, so she walked out. She saw him going into the park later and wanted to apologize. But he wouldn't let her. He walked away from her and that was the last she saw him. She hung around for a while, but when he didn't come back she went home to Riverdale on the subway."

"And you believed her?" Jason shook his head. "This girl is a good liar. Clearly she's very intelligent, a self-mutilator. Maslow was upset about her. I need to talk to her myself. You'll have to find her."

April's face went deadpan with the order. She intended to find her. "I'd like her file, Jason. Are you sure she hurts herself?"

"Oh yeah, she's a cutter; she uses razor blades. She was examined by a doctor; her injuries are genuine."

"Does she cut other people?"

He sank into an armchair, ready to lecture. "It's very rare for someone who hurts herself to attack others. For her, cutting brings relief from tension and misery. People who do it feel better when they see their blood trickling out. Then they feel ashamed of themselves later."

April had to get out of there. "Why are you so concerned?"

"I told you, the girl was lying about her identity, as well as a lot of other things. She's highly motivated and highly organized. It's not beyond the realm of possibility that she cut herself just to get into the program. Who knows what she wanted to achieve and how Maslow fits into the picture. Certainly she gained Maslow's sympathy around the issue of her self-destructiveness, as well as her lack of a safe and protective father. She claimed she was raped from the age of five or six by her own father. It's clear Maslow was attracted to her, cared for her a great deal, and was very troubled by her. He would have been better defended against someone whose angry feelings and aggressive acts were outwardly directed," Jason mused. "And of course he was worried about suicide."

"Patients lie," April murmured. She was scared silly that she'd missed something.

"Patients lie all the time, but psychiatrists are not supposed to get duped."

April pointed to her watch. "Look, Jason, I have to go"

"Well, find her, will you? And thank you, really. Do I count on you too much?" For a second he looked concerned about it, but only for a second.

April smiled. "No. Of course not. And I love the baby. Emma looks terrific. What a great mother she is. I'm happy for both of you."

Jason got up and gave her a hug. "Anytime you want some help getting there yourself give me a call."

"Moi,
consult a headshrinker?" April laughed nervously. "I wouldn't have a thing to say."

"Everybody has a story, April. And again, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this."

Downstairs, Woody was standing by the car muttering to himself for being kept waiting so long. He was really upset when she told him they'd let a suspect go.