We'll Meet Again

55

On the evening news hour, Fran wrapped up her report on the latest developments in the Annamarie Scalli murder investigation with an appeal: “According to Bobby Burke, the counterman on duty in the Sea Lamp Diner the night of the murder, a couple came in the diner and took a table near the door moments before Annamarie Scalli hurried out. Molly Lasch’s lawyer, Philip Matthews, is appealing to that couple to come forward and give a statement as to what they may have observed in the parking lot before they came into the diner or may have overheard in the diner itself. Attorney Matthews’s number is 212-555-2800, or you can call me at this station at 212-555-6850.”

The camera focused on Fran went dark. “Thanks for that report, Fran,” Bert Davis, the news anchor, said crisply. “Coming up: sports with Tim Mason, followed by the weather with Scott Roberts. But first, some messages.”

Fran unfastened the mike from her jacket and removed the earpiece. She stopped at Tim Mason’s desk on the way out of the studio. “Can I buy you a hamburger when you’re finished?” she asked.

Tim raised his eyebrows. “I was all set for a steak, but if it’s a hamburger you want, then I still accept with pleasure.”

“Nope. A steak is fine. I’ll be in my office.”

While she waited for Tim, Fran reviewed the events of the day. First there was the meeting with Dr. Roy Kirkwood, then her call to Philip Matthews, then Edna Barry’s flustered reaction during the discussion of the spare key. Mrs. Barry had claimed that she was almost certain the spare key had been in the drawer for months, and when Molly denied it, Barry said, “Molly must be mistaken; but then, she was so confused at that time.”

Driving back to the city, Fran had called Philip again and had told him that she had become more and more certain that Edna Barry had something to hide and that it had to do with that spare key. She certainly hadn’t been forthcoming when Fran questioned her about it, however, so Fran suggested that Philip might have to lean on her to tell the truth.

Philip had promised to study every word of Edna Barry’s statements to the police and testimony at the trial, then he had asked about Molly’s reaction to Mrs. Barry’s statement.

Fran told him that it clearly startled her, maybe even unsettled her. After Mrs. Barry went home, Molly had said something like, “I guess I must have been out of it even before the shock of finding out about Annamarie. I would have sworn that key was in the garden a few days before I overheard her call to Gary.”

And I bet you’re right, Molly, Fran said to herself angrily as Tim knocked, then poked his head around the door. She waved him in. “Let’s go,” he said. “I’ve made a reservation at Cibo’s on Second Avenue.”

“Good choice. I love it there.”

As they walked down Fifth Avenue to Forty-first Street, Fran lifted her arms in a salute to the buildings and the bustle around them. “My town,” she said with a sigh. “I love it. It’s so good to be back.”

“Me too,” Tim agreed, “and I’m also glad you’re back.”

In the restaurant they chose one of the private booths.

Once the waiter had poured their wine and left to place their dinner orders, she said, “Tim, I believe you said your grandmother died in Lasch Hospital. When was that?”

“Let’s see. It’s just over six years ago, I think…Why do you ask?”

“Because when I first met you last week, we discussed Gary Lasch. Didn’t you say that he took excellent care of your grandmother before she died?”

“Yes, I did. Why?”

“Because I’m starting to hear from some quarters that there was another side to Gary Lasch as a doctor. I spoke to the physician who treated Billy Gallo’s mother-a Dr. Kirkwood. He told me he fought for her to see a specialist but couldn’t get approval from the HMO for further treatment; then she had the major heart attack and died before anything could be done. Of course, Gary Lasch is long dead and had nothing directly to do with this, but Dr. Kirkwood said that this tightfisted approach to health care goes back some time. He’s only in his early sixties, and he says he’s packing it in, doesn’t plan to practice medicine anymore. He’s been tied to the Lasch Hospital most of his career, and he was most definite in saying that Gary Lasch had been nothing like his father. He said the problems he encountered with Mrs. Gallo were nothing new, that putting the patient’s welfare first hadn’t been a priority with the people running Lasch Hospital and Remington for a long time.” Fran leaned closer and lowered her voice. “He even told me that Dr. Morrow, the young doctor who died in a robbery two weeks before Gary Lasch was killed, once referred to Lasch and his partner, Dr. Black, as a pair of murderers.”

“That’s pretty strong language,” Tim said, breaking off a piece of roll. “Still, I’ve got to say my own experience was much more positive. As I said, I liked Gary Lasch and thought my grandmother got darn good care. I did think of one coincidence I may not have mentioned. Did I tell you that Annamarie Scalli was one of the nurses who took care of her?”

Fran’s eyes widened. “No, you didn’t tell me that.”

“It didn’t seem significant. All the nurses were excellent. I remember Annamarie as dedicated and very caring. When we got the call that my grandmother had died, we went straight to the hospital, of course. Annamarie was sitting by her bed, sobbing. How many nurses react like that, especially when it’s a patient they’ve known only a short time?”

“Not too many,” Fran agreed. “They couldn’t last if they got emotionally entangled with all their patients.”

“Annamarie was a very pretty girl, but she also struck me as kind of naïve,” Tim recalled. “She was only in her early twenties, for heaven sake. When I found out later that Gary Lasch was carrying on with her, I was disgusted with him as a man, but as a doctor I can’t remember a single thing about him to criticize.

“We joked that my grandmother had a crush on Lasch,” Tim reminisced. “He was a really handsome and charming guy, but he also made you feel that he cared about his patients deeply. The guy just inspired confidence. I remember my grandmother saying sometimes he’d look in on her as late as eleven o’clock at night. How many doctors do that?”

“Molly Lasch quoted Annamarie Scalli as saying that as a doctor and as a husband, Gary Lasch wasn’t worth the price she paid for killing him,” Fran observed. “She said Annamarie was pretty positive about it.”

“But Fran, isn’t that the kind of talk you’d expect to hear from a woman in Annamarie’s position?”

“Maybe as a woman she’d say that, yes. But it sounds to me as if she was also talking from the point of view of a nurse.” Fran paused and shook her head. “I don’t know, maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but adding that to Dr. Jack Morrow’s referring to Gary Lasch and Peter Black as murderers, I can’t help but think there’s something to all this. I sense that I’m onto something, and I suspect that an awful lot of this story has never come out.”

“You’re an investigative reporter, Fran. My bet’s on you to get to the truth. I hardly knew Annamarie Scalli, but I was grateful for the care she took of my grandmother. I’d like to see her murderer caught, and it’s a tragedy if Molly Lasch has been unfairly accused.”

The waiter was placing the salads in front of them.

“Unfairly accused for the second time,” Fran said pointedly.

“That may well be the case, but what’s your next step?”

“I managed to get a meeting tomorrow with Dr. Peter Black. Should be interesting. I’m still trying to set up an appointment with my Cranden Academy fellow student, Jenna Whitehall, and her husband, the mighty Calvin Whitehall.”

“Heavy-duty people.”

Fran nodded. “I know, but they’re all-important to the story, and I’m determined to get to them.” She sighed. “How about let’s give the subject a rest. So what do you think? Will my Yankees win the World Series again this year?”

Tim smiled. “Of course they will.”